Kelly Rankin

My computer is a vacuum

2011-09-02T06:39:00.001-04:00

Kyle and "Geefle" at work.

To hear my spouse, Kyle, you would think my computer is a vacuum. He often equates the retrieval of information from online resources as “sucking it in.”

It seems he thinks that when I enter a search term in a browser - sometimes he asks me to look something up for him, while he stands over my shoulder - it activates a vacuum cleaner in cyberspace.

When the sought after information is found, this cyber-hoover sucks it up like a dust bunny from under the couch and instantly appears on the monitor.

Perhaps I should explain. I think the last time Kyle used a computer punch cards were all the rage.

He is currently working on a major book project; an undertaking that has been going on for over a decade and has involved a great deal of research, reading and note-taking.

How has he accomplished his research without a computer or using the internet?

Kyle goes to the library and checks out books, makes notes on reams of the graph paper he likes and records major concepts on index cards with his favourite writing instruments: a Pilot Hi-tecpoint V7 Grip pen in various colours (excluding candy-colours of course), pencils, Sharpies, highlighters, and the old stand-by we once could not live without, Liquid Paper.

On the floor around his desk, and slowly creeping their way into the living room of our smallish apartment, is his filing system; stacks of folders containing his work and notes, written in English, German, Latvian, as well as some Sanskrit, Greek and Latin.

To call Kyle a Luddite would be wrong. He’s just not that interested in computers; he isn’t mesmerized by gadgets.

Sure, when he’s ready to compile all of his work into a coherent and readable format, in other words a manuscript, he’ll get a computer – he’s mentioned it twice in the last 12 months. But until he actually needs one, it’s old-school devices for him.

As for me, it's rare when I'm not in front of a computer.

Perhaps Kyle is on to something; maybe my computer is a vacuum?

What?! No doodle?!

2011-07-21T09:48:00.002-04:00

Today would have been Marshall McLuhan's 100th birthday, so why didn't Google create a doodle? Seems like a no brainer doesn't it?

Sitting is Killing Me!

2011-05-24T08:37:00.000-04:00

Via: Medical Billing And Coding

AutoShare Buzz: EVs coming to Toronto car sharing company

2011-05-01T08:36:00.006-04:00

Yesterday I was out wandering in my neighbourhood, shirking mundane domestic duties and enjoying a rare sunny day; when I came across a small car parked in a back alley.

The car was sitting outside a two-car garage, and although you can't see it in the photo below, it was plugged in!

I saw a gentleman in the garage and stopped to talk to him about the car.


The headlight peaking over the front of the MiEV belongs to a 1929 Buick.

It turns out the gentleman was Bill McLaughlin. He, along with his son Kevin McLaughlin, are owners of the Toronto-based company AutoShare, and the car - their first fully electric vehicle (EV) - a Mitsubishi I-MiEV.

As distant relatives to Sam McLaughlin, co-founder of the McLaughlin Motor Car Company in 1907, the owners of AutoShare are no strangers to automobiles. Parked inside the garage were two antique automobiles, a 1929 Buick and a 1937 Cord.

I asked McLaughlin what it was like to drive the MiEV and he said it wasn't much different from driving a regular car except when idling. "When you come to a stop-light it's very quiet," said McLaughlin.

He also explained the car should be available to AutoShare members soon; the company is currently making partnership arrangements for parking and charging.

"I just realized the juxtaposition," said McLaughlin, looking at the EV and then the gems inside the garage.

Indeed, the automobile industry has come a long way.

AMEX is Phishing

2011-04-17T17:17:00.000-04:00

Just the other day I received a letter (the one you see below) from American Express (AMEX).

In it, AMEX points out that I have not used my credit card in the past 12 months. That is correct.

They go on to say, if I wish to keep my account open I should use my credit card within 35 days of the letter's mail date (April 8, 2011), and "benefit from the experience of being an American Express Cardmember."

In the past, when I've used my AMEX credit card, I've found the experience to be remarkably similar to that of other credit cards; anxiety over whether or not I should really be buying an item I can't pay cash for; indifference when I get my monthly statement. But I digress.

AMEX goes on to say that if I do not use my card with 35 days, they will "for [my] own security," close my account.

Sounds like one of 'those' email scams doesn't it?!

The kind that looks like it's from a reputable organization, such as a bank or credit card company, and whose message is designed to make recipients think their accounts are in danger if they don't act quickly and submit their password or other personal information.

How can my credit card account be in danger if I'm not using it?

I get it, I'm a lousy customer. AMEX hasn't made dime one from me in the past year and they're trying to scare me into using my card by going shopping. "I better go buy something or else they're going to cut me off!" is the reaction they're hoping for.

It's a shameful tactic, if they don't want to keep my account they should have said so.

In the meantime, I'll be looking for my scissors, adios AMEX.

The cost of doing yoga

2011-03-21T19:20:00.000-04:00

The mainstreaming of yoga would have you think - with the right accessories - it is the way to calmness and serenity. Yet, what it fails to admit is this state of being comes at a price.

Forget the cost of classes, mats and fashionable outfits. Yoga is hard and messy work. In fact, I would say it is even violent.

For the past decade I’ve been practicing yoga in Toronto. I don’t need to prove “I am into yoga.” I see the lululemon manifesto as the marketing device it is and I don’t have an OM symbol tattoo.

It was during a Sunday morning yoga class when I discovered the yoga experience doesn’t add up to the propaganda.

The instructor was leading the class through a sun salutation series. The first round was over and I found myself back at the front of my mat in mountain pose – Tadasana – when I heard a quiet voice whisper, “I hate yoga.”

It took a moment before I realized the voice was my own.
At first, I kept the experience to myself. However, a few weeks later I decided to mention it to Catherine another instructor at the studio.

Catherine explained, as she made chattering motions with her hand, the voice I heard was a wise voice that emerged from the gut, not the usual interior voice of discursive thinking. I shouldn’t try to analyze it, just let it go.

Yoga challenges the mind’s hypnotic version of reality and has the power to lead us through some serious self-reflection. Sometimes a practitioner becomes pissed off by yoga because it introduces her to aspects of herself she would prefer to deny. Yet, although negativity arises as part of a yoga practice it is seldom mentioned.

There is the illusion that there might be an extraordinary guru or expert out there who lives in a constant state of bliss and that this should be our goal too. But this isn’t a real person with everyday demands to contend with.

This is also why I hate yoga.

Most people who seek out a practice like yoga are trying to find a way to better cope with life. To make it seem that balance and harmony are possible without the hard and messy part is deceiving.

“ABANDON ALL HOPE YE WHO ENTER HERE,” reads the ominous warning above the gates of hell in Dante’s Inferno. I think yoga studios should consider posting a similar warning over their doors.

What is employment?

2011-02-04T12:11:00.000-05:00

Recent events in my life have caused me to ponder the question, "what is employment?"

On a basic level, it's a contract for labour between the 'employee' and the 'employer.' In exchange for labour, the employee receives payment, which usually goes toward personal sustainability - food, shelter, etc.

In other words, in exchange for my labour, I receive payment, which I then use to pay rent, buy food, pay bills, purchase goods and entertainment. I'm told I should also be saving some of this payment, but that's a whole other conversation.

In my case, payment not only includes my wages, it also includes healthcare benefits, pension contributions and a variety of other perks.

However, should it be something else? Should this exchange provide more?

Should my employment, i.e., my job, offer any sort of satisfaction beyond sustainability? Is it merely an exchange of labour for money?

What does job satisfaction entail? I imagine this question can only be measured on a personal basis. So, what is job satisfaction for me?

Now, I'd like to think I'm not naive enough to think there is a perfect job out there somewhere. However, I think a great job entails a creative, dynamic environment, where ideas are shared, discussed - sometimes argued - and decided upon.

Work should be a forward motion - dealing with itself in the context of the world. The world is constantly evolving, so why shouldn't work? Unfortunately, people and organizations often get comfortable and settle into a pattern of complacency.

When you hear a phrase like, "This is the way we've always done it," you can be assured that the organization you're in is pretty much stagnant. However, this statement can also be used for good.

If taken as a warning signal, the statement can be used to draw our attention to our complacency - forcing us to ask, "What needs to be different?" Instead, it is used to block out new, and possibly regenerative, ideas that threaten the status quo.

The world of the job thus becomes entangled within itself because it is viewed from within a vacuum. It is lost and cut-off from its relevance to the world within which it lives.

It's not easy or always comfortable, but acting when the sign appears will keep an organization - and the people it employs - fresh and relevant.

This is the sort of place where I want to work.

Championing the good

2011-01-23T09:03:00.002-05:00

As someone whose university years were spent pouring over Plato’s dialogues, I cannot overcome the urge to ask this question.

When is something good? Who decides? There are many things that people think of as being good, and many who would think the same thing is bad. For example, I think ice cream is good, some might claim - because of its sugar and high fat content - it is bad.

Are so-called binary pairs; good and bad, pleasant and unpleasant, right and wrong, just and unjust, so easily differentiated?

I think capital punishment is bad, but others would disagree. Socrates would further the debate by asking something like, If someone is justly put to death, then who is harmed more, the executioner or the executed?

But, back to the original question, what is good?

When I think about ‘good,’ words like quiet, spontaneous and fleeting come to mind. Good often happens in small ways and is easily forgotten. It’s not uncommon for a person to recall every detail of some slight committed against them 20 years ago, but have difficulty in remembering something good that happened to them more recently.

We seldom acknowledge how good we have it, especially when we think we don’t. Imagine criticizing your government publicly - and who doesn’t - and then being arrested for doing so.

Unfortunately, for writers like Canadian-Iranian blogger Hossein Derakhshan - currently serving a 19-and-a-half year prison sentence in Iran – freedom of expression is a luxury. However, for organizations like PEN Canada, exiled and imprisoned writers are not forgotten and their causes are pursued until justice is served. This is good.

So is the idealism of U of T students; Brigid Burke, a fourth-year undergrad studying anthropology and sociology, and third-year undergrad Nymisha Chilukuri, studying developmental biology and religious studies. I had the pleasure of interviewing them for a story about World AIDS Day events taking place on U of T’s St George campus.

Burke and Chilukuri, and the rest of the U of T’s Millennium Project committee, have organized a People’s Ribbon Campaign, and are asking the university community to wear something red and meet them at King’s College Circle on Dec. 1st at 3 p.m. to help create the largest human-made red ribbon.

The purpose of this event is to bring awareness to the Canadian government’s lack of progress in reaching United Nations Millennium development goal number 6; to combat HIV/AIDS, malaria and other major diseases.

They also want to inspire people to act and be less complacent when it comes to solving these problems.

For Burke and Chilukuri, giving money or buying something ‘Red’ at the Gap, are acts designed to make us feel like we’re contributing to the solution, without engaging us critically. Who among us knows how this money is spent? Me neither.

By shopping or giving money we get to feel good because we are doing something. And, of course we are, because let’s face it money is important to this fight. However, it also absolves us of any responsibility. Do you know the details of goal number 6 and why only Scandinavian countries are meeting their obligations?

What these students see are citizens, and their governments, all too willing to let corporations handle the problem. Do we know how corporations plan to halt HIV/AIDS or malaria by 2015? What are their policies, and how much will the bottom line determine their actions?

In 1994, Bill Gates established what would become the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation to help improve people’s health in developing nations and to provide opportunities for education to citizens of the United States.

The foundation employs over 800 people, manages a $36.4 billion trust endowment and has given $23.91 billion in research grants for things like improving soil conditions in Africa, or developing malaria vaccines. How can this be anything but good?

It can’t, unless of course the world becomes Gates’ world. But that’ll never happen. Right?

I think this is Burke and Chilukuri’s point. What will the world look like when major corporations are allowed to take-up the world’s problems without input or questioning from its citizens?

Is it wrong to question the motives of companies who establish foundations or actively support charities all in the name of doing something good?

A history professor of mine once said, “Thinking critically does not necessarily entail a rejection.”

So, the next time you’re about to do something labeled ‘good,’ think about it.

One | one | eleven

2011-01-01T20:56:00.001-05:00

I don't have much to say except, Happy New Year!

Truthfully, I didn't want to miss posting something on the first day of the first month of the (two thousand and) eleventh year - all those 'ones'!

I'm not one for resolutions - it's just a set-up for failure. However, if I could change one thing this year it would be to keep a more open mind. Never mind getting caught up in the daily grind, or investing too much emotionally in things that are simple problems, easily solved.

I recently returned from my vacation in Costa Rica. I think the vastness of the beach depicted above is a good metaphor for an open and clear mind. I'll have to remind myself of this when the discursiveness takes over.

Hope it's a good year for everyone!

Kelly

'Twas the night of Halloween

2010-11-17T12:30:00.006-05:00

Continuing with the Christmas theme, here is a little poem I wrote for a writing class I'm taking with Patricia Pearson.

'Twas the Night of Halloween

‘Twas the night of Halloween, and all through the house,
Costumes were strewn and trick-or-treaters tuckered-out.
When all of sudden, 12:01 flashed the clock,
It gave us a fright; it was quite a shock.

The eerie howls of ghosts and goblins smothered by a scarier call,
The jingle of sleigh bells and that ho-ho-ho known by all.

Cobwebs and jack-o-lanterns disappeared into space,
Twinkling lights and tinsel appearing in their place.

As visions of Karl Marx danced in my head,
I asked myself, “Isn’t Christmas dead?”

What to get Stephen Harper for Christmas?

2010-11-09T15:29:00.005-05:00

Worried about what to get the Prime Minister for Christmas this year? Me neither, but bear with me.

On Oct. 29th I attended a reading at the Toronto International Festival of Authors at Harbourfront Centre.

Four fabulous writers read from recent work that evening; Lynda Barry (Picture This), Nadine Bismuth (Are You Married to a Psychopath?), Dany Laferrière (I am a Japanese Writer) and Yann Martel (Beatrice and Virgil).

Martel also read letters #64 and #93 from his ongoing project, What is Stephen Harper Reading?

In April 2007 Martel launched, What is Stephen Harper Reading? as a response to the federal government’s flaccid acknowledgement of the 50 artists sitting in the visitors’ gallery of the House of Commons on March 28, 2007 on the occasion of the 50th anniversary of the Canada Council of the Arts.

Bev Oda, Minister for Canadian Heritage made a brief speech, but the Prime Minister neither addressed the group nor looked up at the gallery as Oda spoke. Martel began to wonder what kind of man Stephen Harper was, and concluded there probably wasn’t enough stillness in his life – the kind of stillness brought about by reading books.

Martel vowed to send Stephen Harper a book every two weeks until the end of his term. Each book is inscribed and accompanied by a letter, and is chosen for its ability to expand stillness.

Letters #64, Carole Mortimer’s The Virgin Secretary’s Impossible Boss, and #93, Selected Poems, by Yevgeny Yevtushenko, translated by Robin Milner-Gulland and Peter Levi, make for great reading in themselves.

Each letter describes why Martel recommends the accompanying book and neatly draws parallels to the Prime Minister’s leadership. The letters usually end with a suggestion or question for the PM to reflect on - should he decide to read Martel’s correspondence.

For instance, Mortimer’s novel is published by Harlequin Romance – a Canadian publishing company that has sold billions of books worldwide. “The function of genre fiction is to relax and confirm, not to stress and challenge. Genre fiction seeks to deliver one thing: emotional satisfaction,” wrote Martel. “Is that such a bad thing? I don’t think so,” he added.

Clearly, as Martel points out in the letter, Harlequin knows what their readers want and they deliver it. The implication, perhaps Harper could do something similar for Canadians?

As Martel began to read the first letter I realized that although I’d heard of the project, I had forgotten all about it. It also occurred to me that I was probably not alone. Immediately I knew what to do, I’d send Stephen Harper a letter and book for Christmas, and I’d invite others to do the same.

But, which book?

Perhaps one of the four titles read that evening? Maybe, I could arrange to have one of the authors read it to the PM personally? You know, there is nothing like having someone read to you.

I think I’ll send him a copy of my favourite book, Dante’s Inferno. But not for the reasons you’re thinking. Remember, the Inferno is an allegory about redemption, emerging into the light after exploring one’s soul.

Can’t afford to send a book? Then send a card and include a reading list, to:

The Right Honourable Stephen Harper
Prime Minister of Canada
80 Wellington Street
Ottawa ON K1A 0A2

Last year, Martel published the first 55 letters in the book, What Is Stephen Harper Reading?: Yann Martel's Recommended Reading for a Prime Minister and Book Lovers of All Stripes, and maintains a blog about the project, http://www.whatisstephenharperreading.ca.

Silly Season is upon us!

2010-10-31T07:51:00.006-04:00

The Silly Season begins at the stroke of midnight tonight.

Gone will be the pumpkins, ghosts and goblins, only to be replaced by sleigh bells, Scrooge and cellphone commercials.

Of course, this isn't my first rant on the subject of Christmas. Like the holidays themselves, I am prone to repeating myself every year at this time.

In 2007, I published a student paper in the Georgetown University Critical Theory Journal entitled "Sameness, Repetition and the Function of Christmas," (pg 30).

In the paper I refer to Christmas as a "psychotechnology," (György Markus' term) and suggest it is a form of managed behaviour. Every year we set out to have a happy holiday yet our expectations are thwarted and we find ourselves disappointed and emotionally hungover once the event has ended.

By looking critically at our habits and performance at this time of year we could learn something about the expectations we pack into our rituals and come to understand that this emotional hangover, or boredom, is a catalyst.

"Our needs and desires are ultimately liberating because they contribute to the mechanism of standardization, which in turn, can lead to an understanding of our needs and desires," (pg 36).

We can only acknowledge our predicament once we've gone through it. For some of us, we need several attempts. But it starts by realizing boredom is not something to be feared. It is the way out.

So, take care this holiday season.

Hey, you, get off of my mat!

2010-10-24T14:00:00.000-04:00

Nothing like a Rosedale yoga class to get your blood boiling.

Yeah, I know - this isn't what you'd expect from yoga, but hear me out.

There is a core group of women who attend the class I like to take on Sundays. They seem to know each other or have come to know each other through the class.

Most people spend the time before a class begins lying on their mat, practicing their breathing and calming their minds. Not these ladies.

They show little consideration for other students in the studio and stand around gabbing to each other without a thought about the people trying to relax before the class starts.

When they get props - blocks, bolsters or straps - from one of the double closets that line the south side of the studio, they leave the doors wide open. Who cares about the person sitting near the closets?

But their bad behaviour doesn't end there. They also walk across other people's mats - mine included - on their way to-and-from the closet!

Clearly, they don't know the significance of the mat, and probably see it as mere padding for the knees.

The yoga mat is my practice space, a clearly delineated haven where I come face-to-face with my thoughts and delusions. In this way, it is a sacred space, and unlike the mat in the front foyer of one's home, it is not intended for people to trod across mindlessly.

So, hey, you - get off of my mat!

Wahoo - Jan Wong!

2010-10-16T10:40:00.000-04:00

I just read the latest post on Lizz Bryce's blog, A letter to Jan Wong. It seems Lizz's reply to a Jan Wong article, Get off the Road ... (September issue, Toronto Life), was printed in the Nov. issue.

I haven't read the Wong article yet, but judging from Lizz's reply and the comments posted on the TL website, it looks like Wong has drawn the ire of Lizz and a host of pissed-off Torontonians!

Stay tuned ... I'm going to read the article, see what's causing all the fuss!

Ten Ten Ten: Just another day!

2010-10-11T11:08:00.005-04:00

Yesterday was October 10, 2010, or 10 | 10 | 10 as the news reporters and the superstitious like to say.

It is novel, but does it really make a difference that the day, month and year are all the same number? I think there are 2 more left (11-11-11 and 12-12-12) and that's if for a long time.

Some people planned the birth of their child to fall on this day (by caesarean if necessary!), City Hall even performed marriage ceremonies - unusual because they don't normally work on a Sunday.

The claim is that 10 | 10 | 10 suggests perfection, a wholeness because it contains the other numbers 1 through 9, but for me, it makes me think of binary code. On, off, on, off ...

I spent most of it walking the Waterfront Trail from Neville Park to Rosetta McClain Gardens.

I brought my camera along with me, as I usually do when I when I go for a walk. I didn't see perfection - at least I don't think I did (would I know it if I saw it?), but I did see some pretty ordinary things.

The Brothers Manning

2010-09-19T10:46:00.001-04:00

Tonight, Peyton the elder and his Indianapolis Colts are pitted against Eli the younger and his New York Giants in what is being called Manning Bowl II.

The Brothers Manning always attract a lot of hype. They come from football royalty, both are professional quarterbacks, each sports a Super Bowl ring, Peyton has four MVPs to Eli's one. And, both have appeared in my dreams!

Yes, that's right. Last December while vacationing in Costa Rica I had a dream that Peyton and Eli needed a place to stay and until I came along and offered them lodging in my villa!

I had come back to my villa (the villa in my dreams, I wasn't actually staying in a villa!) and found the Brothers Manning sleeping on lounge chairs around the pool. Apparently, there were no rooms available anywhere in the area and the boys decided to camp out by the pool.

I think I was harbouring impure thoughts about Eli. But I digress ... we're both married and nothing good could ever come of it, sorry Eli.

So, like any football fan, whether hardcore or not, I'm going to weigh in on tonight's sibling rivalry match-up. Although the odds makers and sports prophets are choosing the Colts - some citing a need to overcome their loss to Houston last week - I'm choosing Eli and the Giants. It won't be easy, but I think they can pull it off.

Why? You might be asking?

Look at this US government photo taken of Eli. The presidential seal appears over Eli's head like a halo. I think it's a sign. Perhaps it has something to do with a divine ability to throw a football. Maybe it says something about Eli's fans - football players are always thanking god, Jesus and their fans.

Either way, Eli is cute and I think it's a good sign. Go Giants!!

Mittengate

2010-09-18T13:53:00.003-04:00

It seems my friend Laura is still reading my blog! She asked me to share the following post ...

I'm still here!

I also spend a lot of time in my head, only to be "jolted" back to reality
by stark images such as the photo Kelly shared, human oddities (in
particular, subway behaviour) and the occasional request for directions.

Here is one such story.

One day while at work I went to the bathroom. I opened the stall only to see
a pair of mittens (see attached picture). I'm sure you could imagine my
shock. And the questions...why were there two mittens, one floating in the
toilet, one on the floor? How did they get there? Was it done on purpose?
Was it some kind of statement? Did one fall out a coat pocket into the
toilet during an attempt to use the washroom without removing the coat? Was
the fact that one ended up in the toilet the reason why both were abandoned?
Surely the one of the floor could be easily picked up.

I went back to my desk and sent an email to the entire office. I attached
the picture and requested that the owner of these mittens retrieve them,
after all, the mittens had been kind throughout the winter, doing their job,
protecting the hands of the owner from the cold Canadian climate. No
response but the mittens did disappear by day's end.

I received some responses appreciating my efforts. I never found out
anything more. This incident, henceforth known as "mitten gate", and their
owner was never discussed or identified.

-- Laura

The Everyday Redux

2010-09-18T08:45:00.002-04:00

A while ago I received an email from my friend Laura. During our communication she mentioned she was following my blog. (Yeah !! A follower!)

At the time I realized two things that still hold today. The first, that I haven't been keeping up with my blog and second, that I have been living in my head again!

Again, I find myself going back-and-forth, to-and-fro without a thought to what I was actually doing.

My everyday existence has become overwhelmed by the crowd of internal gibberish. Not a meaningful thought in the entire morass that has been the activity of my mind. I've been moving through the everyday without a seeing a thing, even though there is much to see.

This experience has reminded me of a photograph I took - the one you see here. I recall when I took this, where and why. It was in the summer of 2004, along a stretch of College St, between University Ave and McCaul St.

I was marching along in my usual manner, thinking about work, anticipating what was going to happen, planning for these imagined events and then inventing contingencies, in case things didn't go as I planned. It wasn't that anything pressing was going on that day, this was (and still is) just my mind in action.

I continued to walk along College St, my body in one place, my mind already at my destination - when suddenly out of nowhere this mass of rusty staples and bits of paper attached to a hydro pole jumped out at me.

Of all the times I walked that route, this was the first time I noticed the pattern, texture and colour that comprised this small space on the hydro pole.

In that moment I realized how often I overlook the awesome details of everyday life because I am consumed by my own mental activity.

If there is one thing this blog reveals, by virtue of the infrequent posts, is that I'm still being managed by discursive thinking and not available to appreciate the everyday.

Paralyzed by boredom

2010-08-07T16:30:00.000-04:00

Siegfried Kracauer wrote a terrific short essay entitled, Boredom. In it he writes, “People today who still have time for boredom and yet are not bored are certainly just as boring as those who never get around to being bored.”

If I understand Kracauer's meaning, then I was the least boring person on the face of the planet yesterday. The whole of last week - and I only worked 4 days! - passed by without incident, or much else. It was an exercise in how to look like you're doing something when you have nothing to do.

I know trying to fill time goes against Kracauer's intent, yet I can't imagine my boss would be too thrilled to find me at my desk, sitting idle, reflecting on the emptiness of the hours as they passed by.

So, I found some stuff to do. The sort of unimportant tasks you spend more time procrastinating than it would take to get them done.

Then, when a moment like last week happens, you say to yourself, "might as well." Just the thought of giving an account of these tasks, even the briefest one, causes my eyes to glaze over, so I'll leave what they were to your imagination.

Finally, the week came to a close. I arrived home on Friday around 5pm. Sat on the couch and realized I used my last ounce of energy to get there. I was now paralyzed.

My mind and body felt like an oozy, heavy mass. Quicksand. Neither dynamic or solid, just a glob of life sucking mess!

Boredom spent trying to be busy really sucks the life out of you. It's exhausting. I was more tired from doing nothing than I would have been had I been really busy.

I think what's fascinating about boredom- in the same way you can't help looking when driving by an accident scene - is it's banality. Nothing screams "mundane" like boredom - a scream that emanates from inside your body.

At first you think there isn't anything harmful about being bored. It's not like train surfing or smoking, no doubt two activities taken up to combat boredom.

Yet, believing boredom is harmless is what makes it harmful. So, next time you're bored, reflect on the experience. Believe it or not, you're lucky. Imagine being bored and not knowing it.

Where have all the birds gone?

2010-06-24T08:14:00.002-04:00

This should be the question on everyone's minds next spring.

Last week I had the pleasure of interviewing Professor Dan Brooks, ecology and evolutionary biology at the University of Toronto.

The purpose of the interview was to discuss his book, My Brothers' Eyes: How My Blind Brothers Taught Me to See. An homage to his brothers, Lucien and Duncan who both lost their sight at the age of four.

My Brother's Eyes is Brooks' conversation with his brothers Lucien and Duncan, both who died when they were in their twenties. Brooks shares this conversation with his readers by recalling childhood experiences, his photography and through descriptions of the places he visits to conduct his research.

Most of all, the book is about seeing with an awareness that goes beyond sight and how growing up with his brothers taught him that.

Chapter four is about post-Katrina New Orleans and includes photographs taken in the Ninth Ward in 2007. The haunting neglect depicted in the images is startling. More so, when you consider what is happening in the Gulf today.

So, naturally, our conversation turned to the BP oil spill.

Brooks had a lot to say about the mess in the Gulf of Mexico. He talked about the American mind-set, the politics, the bureaucracy that seems to be less than helpful and the topics nobody is talking about. For instance, the annual bird migration - which happens in a few months.

The American Bird Conservancy has posted a map that shows the location of the oil spill in relation to globally important bird areas, see here.

Brooks explained that birds migrating south, the birds we see out our windows today, stop in the Gulf of Mexico to feed on their way to South America. When they arrive this year they will find little to no food and most will starve to death.

"Far fewer of them will get to the winter breeding grounds in Latin America," said Brooks. Which means far fewer will return to North America in the spring.

Keep in mind, the trip back also requires a stop in the Gulf, where again, the returning birds will starve to death. "By next May, people in Toronto are going to be saying, boy there are not a lot of birds around," he added.

I'm not so sure I believe Brooks. I don't know that most people will realize there are less birds than usual.

To notice something like that, people have to be aware of the world that surrounds them and I think that kind of awareness is a rare quality.

The things I see when I don’t have camera

2010-06-04T13:26:00.002-04:00

This is something I should have posted a couple of months ago ... better late than never, as they say!

It was another one of the best photos I’ve never taken.

I was standing at the corner of Bedford and Bloor waiting for the light to change. I looked across at Varsity Centre; the sun was just peaking over the stadium seating. I thought to myself, “I really should carry my camera with me.” The light changed and I crossed the street, heading toward Devonshire Place.

As I made my way south on Devonshire I noticed there were several workmen on the track at Varsity Centre. I looked at the dome and it appeared to be deflating. “Oh, no!” I exclaimed, “I really wanted to write a story about this.”

Continuing down Devonshire, I thought, “Well, I’m here now. Even if I can’t get a photograph of this, I can at least stay and watch it happen.”

I managed to catch the attention of one of the Varsity Centre crewmen and confirmed that they were deflating the dome. He mentioned it would take about twenty minutes to happen and it will take a crew of about fifty to one hundred people a total of two days to pack up the dome and stow it away for the season.

I asked him how they deflate the dome, he said, we open the doors, turn off the fans and let the air out. “It’s like a big balloon.”

So, as the dome expelled air, I watched the cables that keep it in place and give it shape start to slacken. The centre section began to collapse first, turning the dome into a marshmallow valley. As I stood at the fence on the west side of the stadium I caught a faint smell of the air being released. The polyester dome still has that ‘new’ smell, the same way a new car has its own smell.

The work crew began assembling around the doorways with what appeared to be two-by-four boards. They prodded the sides, pushing the falling fabric back, preventing it from collapsing and covering the doorways.

Sure enough, after about twenty minutes the fabric was pooled around the bottom of the doorways, the last of the remaining air had retreated to the corners and the dome lay on the field.

The next day I went by the Varsity Centre to see how things progressed and took these photo. They show part of the dome laying flat on the field (top photo) and the rest of it already rolled up and the cables sitting coiled on the track (bottom photo), waiting to be put away.

Buxton was only half right

2010-04-17T17:20:00.006-04:00

For some reason, today I was thinking of Bill Buxton's DGPis40 talk, "40 Years: Almost Enough Time to Make a Difference."

In his talk Buxton delivered some scathing criticisms about the state of university research. The thrust of his critique was that university research is too close to corporate influence and thus in danger of loosing its creative edge.

He also touched on another topic, the one I was mulling over today. That is, he pointed out that technology rarely, if ever, undergoes a similar critical process that the various disciplines of art face. (You can watch his talk here.)

I think Buxton makes an interesting point. He suggests we deserve what we get if we don't attempt to make serious informed criticism of the things we make. Buxton mentions the "One Laptop Per Child" project, referring to it as the "most socially irresponsible" project that he's ever seen in his life. Buxton continues, he notes that the cost per child for this laptop is almost equal to the cost of providing water for a village and then asks, "Why isn't this part of the discourse?"

Good question.

However, Buxton is missing the crucial question. Throughout his talk Buxton's criticism is mostly directed at the quality of design and the neglect to ask what happens when a new device is introduced into the culture. He says, that no matter what, a new device, even a paper clip, will change the way things are done. Thus, his comparison to the art world is but half done.

Buxton essentially covers the 'aesthetics' of technology and it's social implications, but he never asks the quintessential question that art always faces. "What is art?"

The solution to Buxton's problem of why technology get's off scott-free lies in the question, "What is technology?" Investigating this question, not as easy a task as one might assume, would lead to the understanding of why intelligent discourse around technology is lacking.

There is a philosophical theory that suggests the objects we call "technology" are merely a manifestation of our thinking, i.e., that technology is a kind of thinking, or a mind-set and the the objects we make simply reflect our state-of-mind.

Therefore, to offer real critical analysis of technology as Buxton suggests, we would need to examine what we call 'thinking' and what we call 'mind.' Which probably explains why technology does not undergo the same critical analysis as art.

Tales from the Grocery Store Part 2

2010-04-17T11:24:00.004-04:00

If it's Friday, it must be grocery night!

Sure enough, last night Kyle and I found ourselves at the grocery store, following our usual routine through the produce area, then over to the deli and meat counters and then up and down the aisles. It's not that we buy stuff from every section of the store, it just seems easier to do it this way. Something approaching grocery store etiquette perhaps?

We arrive in the chip and pop aisle and come upon Kyle's favourite chips, Kettle brand. Specifically, their hickory, honey barbeque flavour.

Another man is already standing in front of the chips and Kyle stops. I say to Kyle, as I continue to walk down the aisle, "You've already had chips this week - you got them when we were here on Monday."

I stop walking when I realize that Kyle isn't moving. I turn around and say, "C'mon Kyle, let's go. You don't need the chips." The other man turns to me and says, "Ah, c'mon. Let the guy have some chips." Kyle takes a step back from the shelves and starts to smile. I start to crack up! Kyle turns to the guy and then looks at me and suggests that I listen to this stranger.

The man goes to leave, he walks by me - I'm still laughing - he then turns and apologizes for being inappropriate. I turned to him and said, "No, it was funny!" Kyle and I continue to stroll the aisles. Every time the scene popped into our heads we'd start laughing.

In the end, Kyle got his chips. However, feeling that the occasion required something special, he decided to try a new variety - the buffalo bleu, krinkle cut!

Friday is Golden Beet day!

2010-03-28T11:11:00.005-04:00

This past Friday Kyle and I went grocery shopping after work, as we usually do.

We get to the check-out and the cashier - a disinterested young man - proceeds to scan and pack our groceries.

The cashier picks up the bunch of beets I had placed on the conveyor and locates the tag. On one side of the tag is a barcode, he tries to scan that but nothing happens. He turns the tag over and discovers the PLU # and enters the number into the computer and receives an error message.

He then looks at me, still holding the bunch of beets and asks, "Do you know how much these are?" I replied, "No, but they are golden beets," thinking he would look them up on the price rolodex sitting on top of his cash drawer.

The young man pauses, looks at the beets and says, "ehhh," then he drops the beets into the bag and proceeds with the rest of my order!

You say "tomato," I say "tomahto"

2010-03-13T14:11:00.005-05:00

So, the other day I had a hankerin' for a good ol' toasted BLT.

I looked at the tomatoes sitting on the platter on my kitchen counter and could taste the bacon! Looking at the tomato there on the plate, knowing its fate, I decided to immortalize it in a painting first! The sandwich was better for it!

This blogger is MIA

2010-02-26T15:25:00.016-05:00

It's ironic really ... I have a blog entitled "The everyday" and I can barely get a posting up once a month. It's not that I haven't observed something funny, ridiculous or ordinarily human. It's probably because I have.

For instance, walking down Bedford to Bloor St the other morning, on my way to work. A condo building is being wedged onto the north-east corner. A sign man is on Bedford holding a "stop" sign. A forklift is moving palettes of plywood from a truck parked on the west side of Bedford, across to the building site.

The cars turning north on Bedford from Bloor are stopped. They are also honking their horns. Can't they see the guy with the "stop" sign and the forklift in the middle of the street?

Another example, on Feb. 6 I watched Sarah Palin's keynote speech at the National Tea Party convention. (What's with the sexy hair?) Coincidentally, or not, I happened to be reading Hannah Arendt's "Eichmann in Jerusalem." I thought Palin's speech, like all of her speeches, was shrill and vacant of any sense or meaning. I wonder how can it be that this woman is so popular? Maybe it's the hair?

A day or so later, as I was reading Arendt, I came across something rather revealing in her observations about Eichmann. Arendt was describing the details of a police examination transcript (see pg 48-9, 1964 ed.). In the transcript, Eichmann tries to explain something to the presiding judge and uses "stock phrases or slogans" and the judge has difficulty understanding Eichmann's meaning. Finally, Eichmann apologizes, saying, "Officialese [Amtssprache] is my only language."

Arendt continues, "But the point here is that officialese became his language because he was genuinely incapable of uttering a single sentence that was not a cliché." She later added that "... his inability to speak was closely connected with an inability to think ..."

I realized when I read these words that they provided a fairly accurate description of what I experience whenever I listen to Palin speak.

Before continuing let me say that I am not calling Sarah Palin a Nazi, nor am I trying to draw comparisons to the political scene in the United States today with that of WWII Germany.

My point is about clichés and the inability to think. Clearly, Sarah Palin suffers from both, but what I'm curious about is, why we are so many eager to believe in these clichés? In fact, we all at some point fall prey to clichés - her's just seem to me to be so obvious that I ask in disbelief, "can't they see she's bullshitting?"

Is it a matter of convenience? The banter issuing forth sounds like what we ourselves believe, therefore we just agree? Is this easier or more more convenient than thinking for ourselves?

Blue Monday

2010-01-18T18:43:00.008-05:00

On the morning news it was reported that today is the most depressing day of the year. In fact, it has it's own name ... Blue Monday. (I wonder if they'll make this a stat holiday?)

The question then becomes, "Really, is that true?"

The anchorwoman cited the following reasons: failed new year's resolutions; credit card statements; and (at least in this country) the weather.

On one hand, I would agree with the above. On the other hand, I wonder if the mere suggestion that today is the most depressing day is enough to make us depressed? In other words, would we be as "blue" today, if we didn't know today was Blue Monday?

So, I decide to do a quick internet search for "Blue Monday" and what do I find? A Wikipedia entry for "Blue Monday."

Apparently, according to the Wikipedia entry anyway, the name was chosen as a publicity stunt for SkyTravel. In fact, they even invented an equation for it!!!

We are so easily persuaded. Time for another martini.

End of '09

2009-12-31T09:54:00.010-05:00

As usual I've been delinquent with my posts! However, this time I have a darned good excuse ... I was in Costa Rica for the past month.

Yes, they have computers and the internet in Costa Rica ... but this trip was a time to unplug. No tv, no phone, no computer ... it's amazing what you can see when you're not distracted by so much noise!

I posted some pictures here.

Well, another year is about to end and another to begin. Let's hope 2010 is a good one!

Lies, big fat lies!

2009-11-10T15:12:00.003-05:00

It really is a charmed life when the biggest problem of the day is that the claims made by my antiperspirant are found to be categorically false!

"Flawless?" Hardly! Just look at the sides of my bra! The insides of my shirts - especially the black polo! Do they really think that waxy, powdery film on my clothing is "flawless?"

This is not my idea of "going on clear." The use of the word 'clear' makes be think see-through, not visible ... but alas.

Then again, just because a window is clear doesn't mean you can't both see it and see through it!

The Height of the Commute

2009-11-04T15:12:00.002-05:00

I experienced one of those moments that makes you glad (and this doesn't happen very often, usually I'm just indifferent) you take public transit.

I was on the westbound Bloor train, travelling to the St George stop. Standing beside me was a rather tall young man. Just after pulling out of the Bay St stop I overheard him say, "I'm six-six."

I looked to my left, where the young man was standing, and I noticed another very tall young man standing next to him! I guess he boarded the subway at Bay. The second very tall young man replied, "I'm six-five." Soon the two were chatting about their height, and no doubt all the doorways they had to duck through - they were so cute!

Ridin' with the herd

2009-10-01T10:38:00.006-04:00

It all started at the Yonge-Bloor subway.

I was making my way to work this morning, standing on the Bloor platform waiting for the westbound train with the rest of the herd.

Train pulls in and stops ... people file off. Except for the "door-fungus" who made it difficult for anyone trying to get on the train. Nothing new.

We arrive at St George station where most of the train's passengers disembark, except for the "door-fungus." That is until an irate (and rightly so) passenger braces himself and scrapes the "blockage out" of the way with his left arm. Ha, ha ... should have seen the kid's face!

The herd, including myself, makes its way toward the stairs. We begin to climb in unison, moving slightly to the right to make way for the brave commuters trying to descend the stairs to the platform.

We get part of the way up the stairs and I look up only to find myself "snout-to-ass" with the woman in front of me. Unfortunately for me she was wearing a pair of low-rider pants.

Not only did I get an eyeful of her lower back, I was also privy to about 3 inches of the crack of her ass. No underwear, thong or any undergarment of any kind - just the crack of her ass!

To say that I was grossed-out would be an understatement. C'mon lady, buy a real pair of pants!

I guess stupid comes in all shapes n' sizes?!

Nice day, eh?

2009-08-16T11:18:00.003-04:00

On Wednesday morning, on my way to work, a young man - likely a UofT student - said to me as we both ascended the stairs at Queen's Park station, "nice day, eh?!"

His voice had the sense of someone who's been waiting a long time to say that - after all the rain we've had this summer, I know how he feels.

The moment he spoke those words I realized I had been completely absorbed in my self. His words shattered that cocoon and brought the outside world to my attention. It occurred to me how easy it is to become caught up in my own mind.

I was grateful for the 'awakening,' I replied, "it certainly is!"

Everyday? Not quite!

2009-07-11T12:02:00.003-04:00

I throw my hands in the air! I'm not very consistent when it comes to updating my blog, but it's not like I didn't warn you ...

I did post some photos from my trip to NYC if you would like to take a look

That's it for now ... I really should be working on a group assignment. I've been procrastinating for the past 2 hours, that should be enough, eh?

The photo: Joie de Vivre, by Mark di Suvero. Located in Zuccotti Park, Lower Manhattan.

Head down ...

2009-06-08T12:38:00.002-04:00

Every morning, well what seems like every morning, I walk by this man who is always walking up Yonge St with his head down.

The man, wearing shades of brown and beige with sensible shoes, never seems to walk with his head up. Marching along, maybe he is deep in thought?

One morning, after an evening rainfall, he just marched through a puddle like it wasn't there. He, with head down, just walked through it!

I didn't see him this morning...

Getting dressed at Summerhill station!

2009-05-29T18:58:00.005-04:00

It was this morning, as I was making my way to the subway. I noticed a man, he seemed in a hurry. His shirt, a purple gingham number, was untucked and he was carrying his matching purple tie and jacket.

I thought, "... must be running a little late this morning." He beat me to the subway station.

By the time I got down to the platform, he was already there. I noticed he had the jacket on now, and from my vantage point, i.e., walking more than a few steps behind him, it appeared as though he was tucking his shirt into his pants.

I thought, "... I'll know he was tucking his shirt into his pants when he does the zipper action." Huh? You might say?

Well, he had undone his pants - I could tell by how easy it was for him to tuck his shirt. But what's more impressive was, he was walking and tucking at the same time. All the while his pants were unbuttoned.

Then it happened, that familiar motion ... right arm bent and moving in an upward motion. Gotta be zippin' his pants!

Next move ... tying the tie. And the subway pulls in!

Precious to the Core!

2009-05-24T09:16:00.004-04:00

I've been meaning to post this since I made breakfast on May 3rd!

I was reading a book on American painter, Richard Diebenkorn and I got the idea to photograph the core of the pear with one of the paintings in the book.

I thought it looked melancholy against one of the paintings, Ocean Park No. 125, 1980.

A toilet seat, a box of donuts & red boxing gloves

2009-05-17T09:43:00.005-04:00

What do a toilet seat, a box of donuts and red box gloves all have in common? Everything!

One morning, at least a week ago, I was on my way to work. I walked out the front door of my apartment building and there, on the sidewalk across the street, sat a new toilet seat - still in its packaging - and a box of donuts. I chuckled to myself, and thought this is going to be a fun day!

I ride the subway to work, get out at Queen's Park as I always do, and make my way to the escalator. There just ahead of me is a young woman with a pair of red boxing gloves strung over her pack back. I debated whether or not I should ask her about the gloves. Then I thought, what have I got to lose?!

It turns out the young woman studies kickboxing and Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu at Don Ritter's dojo around Eglinton & Laird. I told her I always thought it would be great to learn to box, except the getting hit in the face part! She said she felt that way at first, but she learned how to block punches.

I surmised she was in her early twenties and asked if there were any women older than she in the class. She told me there was an older woman of about forty (!), who was a mother and that she was in great shape!

I asked why martial arts? She told me she liked the workout and how great a stress relief it is. She also commented on how much more confidence she has since she has been studying Jiu-Jitsu.

I told her I have a friend who studied Jiu-Jitsu and that people - mostly guys - often dared her to "take them." She said that happens to her as well, and like my friend, she tries to discourage them.

However, as did my friend from time-to-time, she would have to put them to the mat just to get them to shut-up!

Boys! Huh!

I'm so bad ...

2009-05-17T09:30:00.002-04:00

... at this, that is!

Then again, nobody is reading my blog, so it doesn't really matter when, or if I post something, now does it?!

It's kind of ironic, making my thoughts and observations publicly available for anyone who happens along. Yet, these posts seem private by virtue of the fact that they do not have an audience.

I know, I know ... if I want to be noticed then I need to promote my blog, bang the drum, be clever, etc, etc. But that's not my point.

This is like going unnoticed while walking down a crowded street. Except, here I'm far removed from the people, sounds, sights and smells of the street.

A leaf on a Pear!

2009-05-03T10:14:00.003-04:00

While making my breakfast this morning, I noticed the pear I was about to cut up to put in my yogurt had a leaf on the stem. I thought there was something precious about it.

Reach out & touch someone!

2009-05-02T07:21:00.002-04:00

Remember the slogan for Bell in the 1980's? "Reach out and touch someone?" Well, now thanks to the wonders of technology, you can do that no matter where they are!

The other day, I'm in the "Ladies," washing my hands at the sink. A woman is in one of the stalls, her cellphone rings ... "hello?" Then, not more than a second later, the sound of a flushing toilet - she answered the phone and no sooner did the word 'hello' leave her mouth, she flushes the toilet!

Next, the stall door opens, the woman walks out, she tucks the cellphone between her ear & shoulder ... "who?" she says, as she proceeds to wash her hands ...

Obviously, there will be no picture with this post!

Toronto Art History on the Market

2009-04-11T09:51:00.017-04:00

A piece of Toronto's art history, The Portrait Studio Home, located at 181 Balmoral Ave, is on the market. I've long admired this house. However, I was unaware of its significance until the for sale sign was posted on the front lawn.

It turns out that 181 Balmoral was the longtime residence of Cleeve and Jean Horne. "Who," you might be asking, "are the Horne's?" Cleeve was a famous portrait artist and sculptor, and his wife, Jean, a sculptor. Among the portraits Cleeve Horne painted were, Prime Minister John Diefenbaker, as well as past presidents and other diginitaries of the University of Toronto.

The Horne's purchased the house in 1940 and in 1947 had it redesigned in the style of Frank Lloyd Wright.

Cleeve Horne's portrait work spans a period of over 4 decades. His work reflects a cubist influence that became more evident in his later portraits. Horne painted colour and light in shapes and patterns, using muted tones with a hit of colour that gives his portraits their richness. The Diefenbaker portrait is a spectacular example of Horne's work.

To see more of Horne's work, go to the Cleeve Horne website or, to the Ontario Society of Artists archives. If you go to Simcoe Hall at the UofT you will also see several portraits on display.

Click here for the real estate listing.

I'm guessing the ad-man didn't bet on this ...

2009-04-04T10:21:00.001-04:00

In one of those sub-conscious twists, the Vancouver Olympic Committee (and their media agency) has managed to reference the gun violence reported just a few weeks ago in both Vancouver and Toronto.

It happened one morning on my way to work, I was riding the Yonge subway heading south when the train pulls into Dundas Station. The train starts to slow down and the advertising posters that line the wall of the platform catch my attention.

Odd, they all look like shattered glass with a dark hole. The hole appears in different locations on the posters ... the images makes me think that bullets have just blasted through a series of plate glass windows. It looks like a subway drive-by has just taken place. Finally, we happen upon the one poster that explains all of the rest.

I couldn't quite read the 'reveal' poster, but the word change appeared near the top and I recognized the logos for the Vancouver 2010 Olympics. I quickly deduce that the series is an ad campaign for the Vancouver 2010 Olympics, and the 'bullet through plate glass' posters are actually change, i.e., a giant pile of silver coins with a circular area cleared (hence the bullet hole effect!) with the exception of one lone coin. I assume it is one of those Olympic quarters?

Next stop, Queen St ...