What I Want in the Next Decade...

All right, I am still sick, but I went for a run this morning and thought deeply and sincerely about what I want from this new decade (as I am sure many of you out there have as well). I don't mean resolutions; I never bother with those sort of things. What I want is to leave you with a practical list of advice before the ball drops (these are the things I have on my mind):
1) A new job - all the work I do is on contract and it sucks. I have to make some serious changes in the new decade
2) A (new) girlfriend - this is iffy; will have to come after the job
3) Tell people how you really feel about them no matter what the consequences might be - this is mainly for the people I cannot stand, but it could be useful in other circumstances (see #2)
4) More toys - i.e. I need a new laptop (I am very agreeable to anything with the Apple logo)
5) Less worrying about the future - I cannot be the only one thinking about this
6) The immediate cessation of reality TV - I cannot be the only one thinking about this
7) More time for my pursuits - I have to explain this one: I had my guitar with me over the last few days and had not played it because I was sick. I only picked it up because my mom complained that she had not heard it since I'd been back. And it felt right; like it belonged in my hands. Not a bad feeling; perhaps I can apply this to my other points (see #2)
8) Get a grip on my family tree - I have so many relations that I have no sense of being related to; needs to be mapped out
9) Keep up this three-times-a-week jogging plan - I don't really have any serious vices to keep me from doing this (see #2)
10) Wish everyone I love the best in the new year and hope that it is a damn sight better than the one we just left - no need to add to this one

Just in Time for the New Year

I guess that freezing rain caught up with me.
I am typing this out through a head cold and a sore throat that is slowly healing. I would not mind so much if this were not my last week at home for the holidays (timing,as I have had to confess to myself) means everything. It also means that I missed my nephew's two games (he's heading to the NHL) and several trips to visit people I have not seen in a year or more. So sad...
Hopefully, by the end of the aughties, I will be hale and ready to make myself very unhealthy with something I should not be drinking (what a cycle)!

Home for the Helladays?

Yeah, I went back. I am typing this on the Dell in my family's living room while my relatives discuss drunken relatives, missing relatives (meaning that they did not bother to come over to eat and get drunk and get talked about), bad weather (i.e. no snow) and watch football. And I could not be happier.
I got a last-minute ticket and caught a train from home. And the engine broke down for two hours halfway to the city. Then there was the freezing rain and the bus drive that took more than an hour on the highway because he took the service roads whenever he could. So, nine hours for what is usually a six-hour trip.
Bright spots? The taxi driver. He, of course, had a degree in electrical engineering that he could not use, even though he went to a local college in my hometown. Fill in this blank: he is south Asian and driving cabs for people who could not walk and chew gum at the same time. But he was not bitter. In fact, he woke me up to how lucky I am go be back. The other bright spot was when I went home and he waited with me as I opened the door and surprised everyone. I did not tell them I would be back and it was a perfect coda to the day, especially with my mom and niece.
So, helladays? Not quite...
Happy everything to everyone!

A Christmas Message

I wish all of you the best over the next few weeks. It is not my favorite time of the year, but I do like to give gifts and stay out of the cold. I think that this will be an interesting time for me to head back. I plan on surprising my family with my presence and I hope they appreciate how hard it is getting back home and receiving their complaints about my life.
Just kidding...almost.

On the Job Hunt (Part Five)

Another interview last week for a job in January. Does not really help me now, but I will have something to cushion the blow of the new year instead of waiting for contracts for more teaching gigs.
Now, I just have to wait for the call... Should be soon. They told me they will need a lot of people for the job (working on the auto show in Montreal).
Patience...

Four Musical Anniversaries and Why They Matter

I was not going to bother with this particular blog, but I realised that there are a few albums that have hit the thirtieth anniversary mark this year (and the year is almost thru!): Talking Heads' Fear of Music, The Clash's London Calling, Joy Division's Unknown Pleasures and Public Image Limited's Metal Box/Second Edition. All of the above were released in 1979 and it makes me wonder...

1979: Economic Problems, Hostage Takings, Disco about to Drop Dead, Hip-Hop about to Rise Up, the first Walkman, the first Home Videogames,and a General Feeling of Malaise (a word I have seen in too many history books to ignore). A perfect storm for some of the most challenging music record companies would ever dare release (just before record sales crashed and burned on all fronts). Maybe we need to inject some of that feeling into the music we have around our ears today. Oh, wait. No need. Apart from the hostages, we have everything else (although disco is now techno, and we are involved in two wars that we cannot get out of).

So, where is the music? Bands that are pointed out as being influenced by the above groups have not really shown their mettle: Radiohead, the Flaming Lips, Massive Attack, Bjork, etc. This is not to say that they do not have their moments of auditory genius. It just feels as though they cannot shift the earth the way these early bands did. Remember: 1979 is post punk (Sid Vicious had died, just in time for most hardcore punk bands to become a parody of themselves); it could have gone in a nice and safe direction where disco lasted until the late eighties (to be replaced by acid house), and the only hard rock or experimental music to be heard was on certain FM radio stations.

I guess I want to much. I think that we deserve more. And I am typing this as I have a Legacy Edition of the 25th anniversary edition of London Calling. You may know the cover: Paul Simonon, at the end of a frustrating performance at the Palladium in New York, is about to do the business to a bass guitar.

Could anyone name a group today that would do the same? Anyone?

I've got a story to tell...

Another year of writing has passed and another season of short story contests is over. For me, the submissions ended with the December first deadline for The Fiddlehead's short story contest. My spring, summer and autumn brought me to other contests, including the CBC and the Writers' Union of Canada (an ominous title for any group). I even posted my updates on Facebook to let my friends know that I am still so stubborn that I think I can win one of these things. That is what I do when I get a pen or a mouse in my hands and my imagination has not been drained by work, routine and life.

So, how have I done? Too soon to tell. I won't hear anything on three of my stories until the new year. Only found out one was not worthy last month. You really can learn from rejection. I have learned that I cannot give this up and that editors really do want you to stay with one format and tone of voice.

Let's be honest: how many of you out there pay attention to these contests or their entrants? Most of the magazines I submit to are found in the section of the magazine rack that you never look at (and apart from the CBC's wish to broadcast the work, very few of the stories that win are read or heard by a wide audience). I once came in second place in a bookstore contest, meaning that it was not printed up in the one weekly journal in the city that paid attention to such things (the first place winner was published) and I received a $500 gift certificate. I think about this often when I write and how I cannot let this habit go if I have had even one glimmer of hope.

So, let me end this entry by encouraging you to read some of those more obscure magazines that need your attention. Some of our greatest writers began this way and I think that you may find a few surprises.