Pride

Pride is, depending on the interactional and cultural context, either a high sense of one's personal status (i.e., leading to judgements of personality and character) or the specific mostly positive emotion that is a product of praise or independent self-reflection. Philosophers and social psychologists have noted that pride is a complex secondary emotion which requires the development of a sense of self and the mastery of relevant conceptual distinctions (e.g., that pride is distinct from happiness and joy) through language-based interaction with others[1]. Some social psychologists identify it as linked to a signal of high social status.[2] One definition of pride in the first sense comes from St. Augustine: "the love of one's own excellence".

Okay, so PRIDE is good thing, isn't it? Well, the Pride Parade and festivities have hit my city this week. Floats are decorated, parties are thrown, articles in the paper of successful stories of 'raising children in same-sex marriage/relationships' and people of stature discussed, HEROES, FRIENDS, FAMILY WHO MATTER...PRIDE! But, it comes, for most of us, at a very big price. Not so much for the Gay youth of today, but it does for those who dared to come out 'long ago'. It was frightening to be Gay. You are in fear of your own family. You feel judged as a 'lower human being' and question if your point of view is 'valid' or even 'heard'. I've been there through most of my life and it's not about pity parties. IT'S JUST REALITY... fear and judgement are always black clouds over many of our heads..and, yes, it starts VERY EARLY IN LIFE and pops up 'when you think you are loved, safe and respected'. You must be thick-skinned but, when you are a caring person who seeks approval as most of us do...it can be life-altering and, I have witnessed this, it can be 'the end of life'.

When I was young, a teenager, I knew 'I was different' from the other kids. It's a lonely place even when you 'put on your happy face and play those reindeer games at school'..it's really lonely. Then, you 'may' go to University and it becomes a bigger obstacle. You are expected to be 'in love' with a high-school sweetheart or likely meet your soul mate through common interests at Grad Schools...but, you usually feel 'alone'

. How much abuse we put on our own backs is at par with top athletes feeling they have failed at sports they have worked at for years. We work at being 'accepted' at being 'loved without judgement' at 'leading a NORMAL LIFE'.

But, what is normal? Gay men and women are abused in society 'a lot'. Many of these physically or mentally abusive times are not reported. Some of us feel it is almost 'part of the process' of making it to ???? a better place? Some hide forever in their denial and undercover world 'faking' joy and success. Success as 'someone else 'or' as others perceive success to be'

. I've been to the Gay Clubs, the Gay Parties, the Coming Out Groups, the 'Family Face-offs', the struggle to have a wife, two children and that golden retriever. The dog part can work out! Again, it's not about beating yourself up, it's about 'other people' unable to ever really accept you 100 per cent. They may handle it well 'at functions' just as long as you remain 'single' and don't hold hands or talk about your personal life - but, remember, we get to listen to yours, we always listen to yours and do it with genuine enthusiasm. Sounds bitter, but I'm not a bitter person. I've come through five decades during VERY COMPLEX TIMES with the Church pounding down on my lifestyle, with some family discomfort and misunderstandings, so-called friends 'disappear', news of thugs who think we are better off dead and that aids is a 'punishment' for who we are. And, there is the 'stereotype' nightmare of seeing our newspapers/movies portray 'me' as a jokester who is promiscuous and willing to flaunt my dark humor to get a laugh or some simple recognition. It's not who 'we' are. It's a few people..it's not MY PRIDE.

Then we have movies and television. Many gay characters are yappy idiots who trail successful women or plan your party. Then came Will and Grace. Yes, Will was okay..successful lawyer but let's face it, Grace was a fag hag..and that is again, not how I label the successful female friends in MY LIFE.

And what about Brokeback Mountain. Boring or not, it was one of the most honest portrayals of angst I've ever witnessed on a big screen. Yes, I related to Heath Ledger and his battle to 'not be himself'..in the end, both men really were destroyed by their secrets and lies.

Would I want to go to the deep South..NO, would I vote for Sarah Palin, NO, would I wear a dress...NEVER! Did I want children, YES, did I want a soul-mate- naturally, did I want to hold hands and kiss my significant other by the beach..DUH. But, people judge..they're always judging and squirming so, you abide by the NORM. You protect the general Public from their own insecurities and fears. Sad, but true.

So, having said all of this, am I proud? YOU BET. Do I love? Of course. Am I happy? I think I am. Do I respect those who are 'uncomfortable with me'? I really hope I do. 'Do I judge?' Hopefully not after my 50 years of judgement. I, like you, like most of us..just want to get by, to be happy, to be proud of my accomplishments, to share my life with another person and yes...I still want that Golden Retriever! WE KNOW , WE KNOW.... LAWYERS, DOCTORS, TEACHERS, GARBAGE MEN, CARPENTERS, POLICE OFFICERS, MILITARY MEN/WOMAN, YOUR CHILD, YOUR SISTER/BROTHER, YOUR PARENT, YOUR FRIEND are part of my World..so, embrace us.

Warning: COOL KID ON BIKE!

Ah, remember your first bike? Well, good for you..I don't remember mine. I remember my first 'tricycle' and it was a traumatic experience. IT WAS! I fell into one of those massive Richmond Ditches (prior to them being filled up and covered) I bet there are 1,000's of small children in those ditches. Anyway, I was face down in that ditch trying to sob but mud was in my mouth, nose and ears. I was the human plug. When my patriotic brothers, all of 5 years old, dragged me out I was sobbing and kicking the crap out of that tricycle. Obviously I got over it and did not need medicating.

So, I moved on to, word has it, trainer wheels. I had a bell too. I had to use it a lot. Apparently my mother had to come out and tell me to get my finger off that 'bleeping' bell or she'd leave me with nine fingers. I thought the bell was the coolest part of the bike. I did not have high goals back then.

But, the real 'joy' of my life was my first banana seat bike. My movie-camera OBSESSED father made me ride that big red mustang bike around in circles about 10 x's..."DO IT AGAIN, NOW DO IT AGAIN..GO FASTER, SMILE!" Finally I got so bloody dizzy I fell into Mom's sad flower garden and snapped the heads off of about 10 begonias... again, I was yelled at and threatened. I rode that mustang banana-seat bicycle EVERYWHERE. I thought I was a superior pre-teen. I had it all, the bike, the banana seat, the pre-teen pimples and the cow-lick! I was BIKE BOY. There was a huge field behind our place and I took to going over big bumps at full throttle. Then, I hit a huge pothole and went down. I had blood coming out of my face and once again, dirt in my mouth. WHO WAS I KIDDING?

Then the 10 speed became the 'rage'. Of course, I had to have one (maybe two?). I got this silver bike with a major brand name. I didn't put cards in the spokes to make the bike 'click' during rotations..I was OLDER and WISER now! I took to longer trips away from home and even put some decals on the bike.... like skeletons and monster faces. Cool at the time you know! So, off I went to the top of the hill where our Vancouver Mayor lived. Yes, I lived on a very important street! Then I let it rip. I rode down that huge hill at full speed. But, as I got half-way down I thought... what if a cat runs across the road? What if a child runs across the street!? WHAT IF A CAR TURNS THE CORNER!!!??? I suddenly had massive anxiety attacks and decided to crash the bike into the curb and fly onto the lawn. I was so proud of myself at that moment. I probably saved a life.

Then I got my first car and did the whole 'gotta have a bike rack' thing. Going to the island? Got to take the bike! IT'S COOL TO TAKE YOUR BIKE. So, a group of us 'cool kids with bikes' went to Cultus Lake. We swam, we hiked, we drank beer, we sucked on a Lucky 7 and we went on hair-raising bike rides. The roads were all unpaved back then and I went off the embankment into a stump. Boy was THAT COOL OR WHAT? My frame was bent and so was my pride. Bikes suck.

But, then the Mountain Bike became all the rage. I bought my own, yes I did! Got a good price too. Zellers had a big sale. So, I gave the bike a name (corny but KIND OF COOL) I called him 'Bladerunner', after the amazing movie. I kept rolling my palm over the tire because I was so impressed with the powerful tires. I knew this bike could handle anything. So, a group of us took our bikes up to the 'very Olympian' bike trails. We had to maneuver around jutting rocks, huge tree limbs, bear droppings and at times,'one another'. I learned one important lesson, "DON'T LOOK BACK AND TELL YOU BUDDIES HOW COOL IT IS!" because I flew into the bushes and got my final load of 'dirt in the mouth'. I don't ride bikes much anymore. I tell myself it's because of the horrific car traffic in the city or the discomfort of wearing those ugly helmets. Truth be told, I'm sick of having dirt in my mouth!

Little Dog Syndrome

YES, I had to go there. Being a 'big n' tall' kind of guy I've met my share of small men. Yes, I said small. They often, like small dogs, make up for their size by escalating in the loud, in your face, don't mess with me 'attitude' department. We all know about the small dogs who choke 'almost' to death while being walked. You walk by them and most of them yap yap yap but you SMILE and give the owner that I FORGIVE YOU (not really) LOOK!

Perhaps I'm being too harsh? I don't think so. I'm blunt about doggy business and I've owned a small dog (dachshund) so I know the profile. Yes, there are lovely little canines who tremble behind their owners left ankle and those who just cave to fact they are never going to be a Great Dane. But, when all is said and done, some owners are compulsive about their 'babies'.

In the city we have dogs in purses, on shoulders, in the back of bicycles and even in baby carriages. I've seen these small dogs wearing designer clothes that are more expensive than mine and don't forget the rain boots and cap! I looked after two small Malti-poos (is that what they are really called?) about a month ago and had to dress them in rain gear for a quick pit-stop at a tree. It took me more time to arrange their evening wear than it took for them to crap publicly with the additional time of me bagging it and disposing of 'it'. It's pure insanity..but, I cave to the owner's obsession. Would we dress up a Great Dane? I don't think so.

There is a 'small dog park' just 2 blocks from my home. I kid you not! ONLY SMALL DOGS ALLOWED. I took my camera to that tiny spot where 9 owners and 9 pedigree pups ran around in circles neurotically undecided about who to play with. I started to take pictures and talk to the owners. They were all 'proud parents' and exchanged stories like parents do over their 2 year old. But, I have to say, these people were all very loving, kind, thoughtful and supportive of one another. If it's any relationship to owning a small dog I say, TOSS ALL GANG MEMBERS A CHIHUAHUA!!

My wiener dog lived to be nine years old. He had ONE EYE and ONE VENDETTA...'to humiliate all large dogs'. When we got our beautiful black Labrador, the wiener took over. He gorged down the puppy lab's meals, snapped at him and smirked when the lab was put in his kennel and the wiener got the comforter in the house. What became of all of this? Psychological tragedy. Our Labrador became a ,'SMALL DOG HATER'.Yes, he did. He made it his object of puppyhood angst to go after any yappy dog or smaller dog that tried to take his toy or food. He was a would be 'small dog assassin'.

Living in the city it's very hard and I think a bit unkind to hold a large dog hostage. They need their arena to run free of walls and congestion. Small dogs are the option (or a cat if you don't mind 20 years of constant care). So, in our building we have about 10 small dogs and 3 large ones. I have never heard the large dogs bark but I hear the 'runts' yapping the minute they enter the lobby. The owner's tell them to 'be quiet', the little dogs tell the owners 'to suck it up!'

Back to that small dog park I go to. I took lots of pictures and later developed them and gave them away for free. The owners were in HEAVEN: "I'm going to frame it!!", "LOOK MIDGE, IT'S YOU..LOOK ..SWEET MIDGE!", "LET ME SEE YOURS!" I couldn't help but smile. Making people happy is my mission even if one small dog peed on my flip flops. I asked the Small Dog People 'how' they knew if a dog was small enough to enter their 'SMALL WORLD AFTER ALL'. One lady, decked out in bling and a huge hat, said she brings a measuring tap! Okay. So, what's the height arrangement? She boldly continues, "Well, 18 inches from the toe to the tip of the ear." And dog owners let her measure their dogs? OKAY! So it looks like the small dogs have the upper paw for now. They have the full wardrobe, the stage parenting, the best toys in the whole world and their own 'private playhouse' to hump, piddle and yap their way into the world of CANINE BLISS... It really makes me want to get a St. Bernard! * I WONDER IF CHAUNCEY IS ALLOWED IN THE SMALL DOG PARK?? LOOK AT THAT FACE?, and DOES HE NEED PAW I.D.? *

AND, I CANNOT TELL I LIE. I LOVED MY WEE WIENER DOG WITH ONE EYE. HE WAS NEUROTIC, FLAWED, YAPPY, AND SPOILT ROTTEN...BUT, I WOULDN'T HAVE TRADED HIM IN FOR A TRIP TO DISNEYLAND... HE WAS MY WEE BROTHER FROM GRADE ONE UP and will be FOREVER MISSED. HE'S YAPPING IN DOG HEAVEN WITH THE BEST OF THEM!

Trains, Planes and Cameras

Here is the challenge: catch an expresso picture with your 'average' digital camera. I usually get the buck end of a bad crate. Trains are moving targets for a freelance 'fake-it' Photographer. You really just want the train to stop, pose for your picture and then fast-forward. Well, that's never going to happen. So, I picked up a passion to drive to 'dead-ends' where tracks are never used, old train cars sit rusting and weeds are the secondary attraction.

Same goes for airplanes. Unless they are docked Float Planes or sitting lifeless at the Airport, there is not much my camera is capable of...well, much I AM CAPABLE OF. 'REMEMBER, I DID NOT READ THE GUIDE!' as noted in BLOG ONE of many blogs. I did get the entire plane in 'once' as it flew 1,000's of feet over my head. I even had my camera on FULL THROTTLE ZOOM..but, the outcome was as tragic as 3 engines failing. One 'Click' and the horrid picture is gone!

As a child, I always wanted to 'jump' a train and be a stow-away on FLIGHT 007. You watch those old black and whites of raggedy boys with wooden poles and a knotted cloth with 'their life belongings' walking down the the empty tracks ... lost and usually alone (but I would have a super dog with me like Lassie). It reminds me of that movie STAND BY ME: 4 childhood pals looking for a dead body by following the train tracks. There's just something very mystical about TRAIN TRACKS. Planes..ugh..I'm not as excited when it comes to planes. Okay, I would like to jump out of one. That's on my BUCKET LIST of things to do. You're so helpless up in a plane. I mean really, what can you do if a fire breaks out! Your life is in ONE MAN'S HANDS ... NO CONTROL, NO OPTIONS, NO MEETING AT THE PUB TO DISCUSS IT, NO SECOND CHANCES ... At least on a train you can jump and roll. Or, you could straddle the top of the train and shimmy down to the other end where the fire is not destroying your holiday plans. I was told that our huge 747 was diving towards the middle of the Pacific en route to Hawaii. I think I was about six. My father told me everyone was using barf bags, dead silent, praying or screaming. All I remember was how cool it was to be on a big plane for the first time! He said I was 'the only one on the plane who didn't know our lives were about to end'. And for this, I am grateful. It all turned out okay and obviously the pilot did something right. I don't think Train Conductors get the respect that Pilots do. Well, they don't. I can only think of Petticoat Junction with men in striped over-alls with twang accents. At least they had personality and didn't seem to get all 'antsy' about a great train robbery. I guess they expect one or two during their lifetime. Pilots just have that sleaze factor:

"I just did every stewardess on this flight and I've still got my WINGS!".

I'm on team 'Conductor'. Great and wondrous movies have come from using the TRAIN or the AIRPLANE as the key character..I mean look at them... 'Snakes on a Plane' (how exciting was that..poisonous snakes loose while you're above the clouds AND you have NO ANTI-VENOM to save you!) and 'MURDER ON THE ORIENT EXPRESS'- eclectic group of killers in a 'who done it?' racing at amazing speeds. Then you have the 'POLAR EXPRESS', just gobs of fun going to the NORTH POLE on a magical train and of course 'LOST- the T.V. series' where the plane becomes pivotal to disappearing islands and pilots getting sucked up by black fog. I know, it just makes you want to buy the next GOLDEN TICKET!

Put a penny on the track and wait for it to be flattened. Remember that? Now they have machines you can just put your penny into it and churn out a flat penny...HOW UNCREATIVE IS THAT? The whole point is to have the train 'personally' flatten your penny while you watch. It was something most little boys dreamed of!

My only big bitch about airplanes and trains is the HORRORS of migrating animals being in the wrong place at the wrong time. You know what I'm talking about! Those caribou just 'doing their migratory' thing and BOOM..EXPRESS TRAIN 88 just churns out a bucket load of steaks. And those hard working SNOW GEESE, patterned in the perfected 'V' SUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK..right into the propellers. It's a DAVID SUZUKI NIGHTMARE!

I'd like to say I had amazing train sets and built model airplanes as a child but, as noted in 'yet another blog', I was into FARMING. I built farms and baled hay, sheds for the pigs and coops for the hens. I was not into inhaling crazy glue or playing with electrical machinary. I was a true 'down to earth' child who dreamed of manure and birthing a calf.

So, I'm not as excited with my camera when trains and planes are around. I'd rather be at an old farm with my camera, just chewing on a piece of hay with cuds on slow mo and watching reality unfold slowly. Yup, I'd rather be a Farmer than a Pilot or a Conductor. Either way, I still have my camera.

INVASION OF THE 'CRITTERS'

THEY KNOW WHERE WE LIVE...THEY KNOW OUR HABITS...THEY KNOW ARE WEAKNESSES..THEY ARE 'THE CRITTERS'! I know, I know, most people are ashamed of the Seagull. The bird has gone from 'MIGHTY KITE SEAFARER' to garbage flockade. Yes, it's a sad turn of events but we MUST take responsibility for all the changes in nature. The mighty black bear is now your garbage pick-up at 2 a.m., the lone coyote has your dog's leash hanging from his wicked jaws of life and raccoons molest you as you walk home a tad tipsy in a neighborhood with wall to wall condos. I was walking out my door last month to smell my heavenly flowers *on-sale now at Home Depot!* when I got THE ALERT CALL from my condo-peep next door. SKUNK AT 10 o'clock, SKUNK at 10 o'clock. We all baton down the hatches, our cats peer from the windows and we await the next move of the MIGHTY, STRIPED, WADDLING STINK-BOMB. He's checking out the flower pots (a true BAMBI MOMENT) and trying to Braille your welcome mat with his digger-claws. After 1/2 an hour of holding our breath...he has vanished to the UNDERWORLD and may rise again at any time. KEEP TELEPHONES ON SPEED DIAL!

Then, with camera in hand, I go to where the gulls flock. Yes, they hang with the ducks. They are not a stupid bird. Gulls know that we break bread with the animals and quickly they snatch up WONDER BREAD before the dumber bird: THE DUCK, can get to it. Seagulls live to steal food. I sat at Granville Island's outdoor picnic area and saw a gull sweep down on a family and lift a mighty PEPPERONI PIZZA from their table. Screams followed (and it wasn't the kids). Bits of mozzarella fell from the sky and hunks of pepperoni slapped the sidewalks. It was over, the gull had won this battle. Never underestimate the strength of a gull. *do not take newborns to the park!*

Speaking of parks, the coyotes are likely the most clever of all. They are cagey outside the cage and know when you take your dog, Bitsy, for her nightly walk in an area where lawns sprawl and rich people get their pedigreed pets polished at 'Diva Dog'. But, this was to be Bitsy's last night widdling on the front lawn. In horror, the indulgent owner watched as the minute-mile coyote picked lil' Bitsy off the lawn and ran for the Queen E. hills. It is HORROR ON ELM STREET, but we have been warned time and time again ... do not let your Fifis and Fluffys out on their own. THERE WILL BE BLOOD.

And just because you know the skunks, gulls, coyotes and raccoons are 'out there' ready to invade your quality of life, the MIGHTY SNAIL moves in on your garden sucking the juice out of every bit of life you ever planted. Their slimy heads rise to the moon, they let out a slobbering howl as they munch on your newly planted leaf lettuce. If plants could scream the night would be full of fear and carnage. Never knew what hit you? They are uncanny, they know you're focused on the skunk, giving them 1/2 hour to 'off the head of lettuce'.

Should we rise from the ashes to destroy what WE, THE PEOPLE have created. We have tarmacked their land, stripped them of their natural prey, built on their homes and torn down their tree forts. Sure, we point the finger at the GULL and say, "YOU STOLE MY PEPPERONI PIZZA", the Black Bear, "YOU TRASHED MY CANS!", the coyote,"YOU MADE ME CRY!" and the mighty snail, "I WAS GOING ORGANIC UNTIL YOU CAME ALONG!!" I am here to say, with camera in hand...'WE ONLY HAVE OURSELVES TO BLAME'... we invited this INVASION OF THE CRITTERS...and yet they still pay the price. Shame on us! THEY WILL ADAPT and they WILL STRIKE AGAIN. *well, that felt very STEPHEN KING! :) *

*BEWARE THE LION KING OF ALL THE CRITTERS.....'THE SQUIRREL NEXT DOOR'. HE IS THE RULER OF ALL CRITTERS. HE KNOWS WHERE YOU KEEP YOUR NUTS and JEWELS!*