Flowers For Albert

The first flowers I ever remembered were those GLADIOLAS my Gramps dropped off at our house weekly. I asked my Mom, "Why does he always bring the same flowers? Are they your favorite?" She didn't want to answer that question because, little did I know, my Gramps played the organ at funerals. Oh...I get it know! I guess we all have favorite flowers. I'm an Iris man myself. I don't know what that says about me. I find them to be 'complicated' looking flowers with a lot of detail...so, if I made that into a flower 'palm' reading I guess that makes me a complicated man who observes 'details'?? But, I'm not one of those people who reads my horror scope daily. A rose is a rose, is a rose? I don't think so. I've seen roses that cause the iris in my eyes to bloom. Seriously, there are some wicked roses out there! I heard that different colours are symbolic of different 'emotions'. Like, the red rose is obviously 'love'. It's the Valentine flower...it's the flower lovers usually give to one another and it's that stupid flower they hand out on that reality show, 'The Bachelor'.

Wedding bouquets can be made of multiple flowers or just one big blossom. My Mom did that..she had this huge flower that was made of petals. I thought it was a Lily Pad at first but she snapped at me that it was made specifically for the Wedding. Well, stick a thorn in my side!

My 'other mother', the Step-Mom chose different flowers for her wedding to my father... she picked DAISIES! Oh lord, did she pick them. I think she harvested them herself. I've never seen so many daisies in one small Church. During the service a few people were sneezing (pollen?) and the little flower girl was ripping them out of her hair,off of her dress and picking them out of her Huggies. My Stepmother was standing up front all decked out in a hat that went on forever and on that hat was a FLOAT OF DAISIES. It was like Doris Day had come into my family!

I work with special needs clients...developmentally challenged is politically correct now. I have this one client who picks 'Dandelion flowers' every year and puts them in a little plastic cup in his room. Of all the flowers in vases, at Weddings, Valentines or in gardens...this touches me the most. He's autistic and he just beams when he puts his 8 perfect Dandelions in that old scratched up cup. Very little it takes to bring joy to such a kind man.

I have a very tiny garden. I never was one to care much about growing flowers as I still would rather be a farmer with a field full of milking cows. But, it is what I have..as small mini-patio. I have turned it into the smallest HANGING GARDEN OF BABYLON ...and, I am proud of this. I go out every morning with my hands on my hips and just 'sigh' with joy! Budding Christmas cactus mid-August...go figure!

Flowers represent so much. I remember the flowers laid out for Princess Diana after her death...endless bouquets set carefully in front of her picture...hundreds of flowers to show we care. And petals.... dropped into bathtubs to romance your mate or just to feel beautiful if it's only for one night. Flowers wrapped around telephone poles or on crosses along the highway to honour loved ones who left too soon, and too tragically.

Songs about flowers.... 'The Rose', so beautiful we melt when it comes on the radio. I don't think we'd hear a song about Thistles but I personally find them to be 'complex and unique' but again, that's my flower 'taste'. And buds..what about buds. Don't you just love the stages before the 'full frontal attack' when the flower is capsulized in 'the bud'. Even dying flowers are beautiful. Wilting with grace, petals falling to the ground and shuffled in the wind. I love the blossoms from the Cherry trees that cascade all over the streets, painting them pink ...making us LOOK and once again, sigh, because it is quite a sight.

There are flowers sold at booths along country roads. Children in their straw hats and sneakers who have plucked Mom's garden clean to make money since the lemonade stand got shut down due to by-laws! And there are flowers at gravesides after a quite visit. An offering to show our love, to remember, to make that place of rest meaningful.

People wear flowers for fashion..the hats with flowers attached, the boutonniere on suits, the floral dress reflecting a woman's love for bright colours and pretty prints. Hippies probably represented flowers best in our culture...FLOWER POWER and all it stood for 'Peace'...imagine?

Hanging baskets line streets to enhance their look, to add some 'nature' to our concrete jungles that are quickly sucking up the land and suffocating roots. We need the flowers, plants, trees to know we are not destroying everything on our path.

But, I still go back to my client, Albert, who puts those Dandelions in his scratched, plastic cup. He just stares at 'the beauty' of the yellow flower we put under our chins like the buttercups to see if we liked Butter or not. And, when anyone came into his room he would smile politely and say, "don't touch!"... To him, they are perfection and I believe they are. So, do we take time to stop and smell the flowers, to look at the bee collecting it's nectar, to watch the blossoms swirl in the wind. I hope so. There is beauty and then , there is beauty!

One Man's Garbage

I just put out two old golf club carriers and lawn chairs. GONE IN SIXTY SECONDS! Yes, the amazing and wondrous world of recycling via 'curb leftovers', 'recycling' or 'yard sales'. We pride ourselves in recycling. If the woman in front of us at the supermarket doesn't have a hemp bag for her groceries we curse her! She'll happily take plastic. Well, damn her anyway.

Then, while they are bagging her pitted olives there is a new immigrant working his way through a back-lane garbage bin. Dozens of apples have been tossed. Why? They have 'a bruise' and are not useful to us, the average shopper. But, for this man, he sees many jars of apple sauce or just 'an apple a day to keep the walk-in clinic away'.

I love yard sales. I love plucking through other peoples junk. It's the CIRCLE OF LIFE, it's the new wave, it's 'delightful'. I know people who spend their weeks planning around yard sales! They circle a route on a map, make sure the gas tank is filled and disregard the early bird signs. YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE!

I first started going to the large recycling depots a few years ago. I actually know the staff by name now! I feel proud to be a regular. Nothing like giving back because the metals are used to make wheelchairs, the paper is used to make newspapers and the glass is used to make 'more bottles'. It's a win-win tradition that has swept the Western World. We have special bins, bags, drop-offs, support services and fundraisers. It's cool to be a RECYCLER!

We also pay tribute to the Binner Boys...the men and women who rattle those Safeway carts up the back lane day and night to collect our discarded wine bottles and orange cartons. When I'm out the back disposing of mine, I get into the most animated conversations with these men and women. Where did they come from? What will they do with the pocket change they make? Are they safe? Are they healthy? Do they have a hard-luck story? I'm sure many do. Mentally ill or lost in the system, challenged in life or jobless for years ...they are someones son, daughter or even parent, or spouse. Least we forget: they contribute. They are part of the recycling fabric we embrace.

Recycling has become so prevalent and necessary that we get confused. Does this go in that container or does it go in that one...and is it even recyclable? It overwhelms us 'at times', and when we're really stressed out trying to decide we just heave the mass into the regular bin. Sometimes, it's JUST TOO MUCH!

And what about the days of going out to the garbage dump? Remember those huge trucks that stop, pick-up, crush and head out to the landfill CITY DUMP where there is a SEA OF SEAGULLS plucking through our leftovers. Yes, the birds we used to call the Seafarer. They are now gulping down broken containers, grapefruit rinds and half a loaf of moldy bread. I suppose, they are feathered recyclers?

If the entire world would just butt out, imagine how beautiful the sides of roads would be, the sidewalks would be red carpet affairs and we wouldn't be picking the ends of cigarettes out of the soles of our sandals.

Remember our parents saying, "eat your veggies, there are starving people in India!" And, they are correct but there are also starving people a mile from my home eating from Soup Wagons and going into canteens for 'a bit of protein'. We waste so much, we take material items for granted and want 'bigger, better, newer' as we walk away from perfectly good, GOODS!

So, we Recycle and this makes it all very 'fair' and 'acceptable'. We give back. We raise money and help charities close to our hearts.

I salute the binners, the garbage men, the constant recyclers and the kids who sell their old toys to make money for the kids in 3rd World Countries. The concept was always there: "ONE MAN'S GARBAGE IS..."

My Side of the Sandbox

Playgrounds, the social gathering for children and tired parents. They exist at school, in your local park or maybe a swing-set is set-up in the backyard. Magically a place children go to for their energy release, free thrills and sadly at times, a bad case of the Bully Blues!

Yes, we've all scabbed our knees and had pebbles in our kiddo running shoes. How many times have we looked in wonder at older kids mastering the swing or scaling the monkey bars? "I could do that, I can be like that big kid." Then we climb with authority until we call for Mom or Dad to 'lower us down' before we get the infamous 'first broken arm at the playground.'

It's also the land of Bullys. Yes, the BULLY joins the nerds, athletes, pretty girls in frocks, nervous kids who hide behind their babysitters legs and the brats who push ahead in line. They are all there...the same people you'll be working with 20 years down the road. But the 'Bully' is out to target you. He and now 'She' will taunt you to get off your favorite piece of apparatus and maybe shoulder you on the way to the teeter-totter. Beware the 'Bully'.

The swings were often my first choice and, as an adult...I still do 'the swing thing'. Yes, I admit to this. I love to go to the seaside where the park is, kick off my flip-flops and rock those legs back and forth to soar to new heights. Why? Why, because it brings back the memories of saying, "I can go higher than you can...betcha I can! Bet my whole lunch and my gummy bears too!"

Things are different now. It's always 'Pervert Alert', 'Stranger Danger', 'Pedophile Last Seen...'... it's just not the same. The actual playgrounds are 'state of the art' designs; not these wooden totters, canvas swings or dirty sandboxes. They actually create a work of art! But, with all the colour and newly developed childproof activities, there is always a 'fear' to leave your child alone. NEVER LEAVE YOUR CHILD ALONE IN A PLAYGROUND. Not in my day...nope! We could spend the whole day off school at the playground while our parents went to the supermarket. Sad.

I don't see those round metal creations anymore..the ones that go around while you hold on with other kids. They spin in circles ..fast, faster...even faster..until you feel your stomach going up and nausea setting in. Kids who yelled, "LET ME OFF! LET ME OFF!", simply fueled the fire of the kids pushing that monster machine. And how about those fat kids that came down the slide right after you and just rammed your small body into the dirt? Those kids will be your competition in '20 years!'.

The tire swing was always my favorite but, there would only be one and often there wouldn't be one at all. To get on it was a triumph! But to get on a tire swing and go over a lake only to let go and splash down was the best! You had to go far beyond the playground for that wonder year moment!

Today, when I walk past a playground and see kids going from one colourful ride to the next, I have to smile. I miss that innocence, I even miss the Bully, the Nerd, the Nervous Kid and the Girl with no fear. They're still around me but they're older now and maybe they come back to remember the tire swing too?

"Can't we stay just a liiiiiiiiiiiiiittle bit longer?...pleassssssssssse!!"

Forever, an Island Boy

We all think about our best memories and mine are of the island I grew up on. I lived in a log cabin and took the hay wagon to school with my two sisters. The closest neighbor was about a mile away and they were two brothers much older than myself. I knew I had to start school on the island and I was afraid. I preferred digging up clams and pulling in dogfish. But, it was time.

The wagon rolled up and we hopped on. We only saw about one truck on the way to school. I remember going into the class and seeing a lot of black children. I was afraid. I had never seen a black person before. The teacher was huge. She looked like my mother only 5 x's taller! She told us if we had to 'urinate' just to go to the back room and 'do our thing'. So, after one hour, I had to URINATE..but I was afraid of the monster teacher of the island. So, I wet myself. She scolded me in front of all the kids. It was then that I wanted to be back at the cabin with my sisters and looking for eels and tadpoles. She told 'Joshua' to tend to me.

Joshua was a black boy and he was very caring. He told me to come to the cloakroom and pull down my pants. I was not going to do this! I wanted to cry but I held it in. Joshua said, "It'll be okay, I'll just clean you up kid and you can go back and have your day like the rest of us." So, I did. When he touched my shoulder I knew I would become BLACK within a few hours.

After my first day I got back to our cabin and told the story of the black boy who touched me and was kind to me. I told my mother , "when I grow up, I want to be a black boy."... She looked at me like I had spaghetti sauce on my face! She smiled and said, "Willy, you can't be a black boy. That's just the way it is!"...so, I thought about it and I thought about a lot more. Then I told her I made my second decision...I wanted to be an Eagle! She started to laugh. That disturbed me. I didn't know why because I was trying to make good choices! She told me people can't grow up to be birds or mammals. I didn't know what a mammal was so that was okay! I didn't know what I wanted to be after that.

So, I just spent my free time on the shell beach with my sister, Suzie. We turned rocks over and collected small fish in tanks. Sometimes I even found a big crab! I took one crab and cooked it on the stone barbecue. I heard the sizzling sounds and then I felt really bad. I killed it. I killed the beautiful crab.

One morning before school, my mother was yelling like the dickens! There were cows in our yard and one of them was sticking his big slobbering head through my window and MOOOed like there was no tomorrow. I was so excited I jumped on my mattress and watched my Mom smack those cows with her broom until they were all out of sight. She was blazin' with anger! After school I'd just sit in a quiet place. Sometimes a deer would come buy and just nibble on green grass. I would watch and the deer didn't seem to mind. They just carried on like I was one of their own. It was so beautiful and I felt so peaceful. I used to swim in the ocean. I'd run into the cold salty sea and just yelp with joy as my sister watched me and shivered by the shore. I loved the ocean. I watched the whales go by and waited for their waves to come to shore so I could dive under them and pretend I was an important person who discovered mysteries of the Sea. When we left the island, I was sad. I loved the stars at night. I loved the chirping crickets and the gardener snakes. I missed the deer and the whales. We moved into a big city called 'Vancouver' and I didn't like it one bit. When my mother took me to grade one class, I saw my new teacher, Mrs. Lyons. She was a monster. I just got out of my seat and ran into the field.

Each night I just thought about the big Arbutus trees, the eagles flying by, the wild flowers and the boy that made me feel like it was MY HOME. I never forgot that boy and how he made me part of the island.

I still go back to the island I grew up on and put my feet in the salt water. I walk into the woods and the deer are still there. I wonder if they are related to the ones I watched way back then. I also think of Joshua and where he is and what became of him.

It's a Sign of the Times

NOTE: GRAFFITI HAS BEEN USED TO ENHANCE THE SIGN LANGUAGE OF THE DRIVER'S RIGHT HAND!

Living in a city we have more signs then citizens. Seriously, there are signs posted on nature walks, outside people's homes, at the beach, outside your favorite cafe and even on buoys out at sea. It's not the signs that bother me, it's 'how hard we try to get the message across' that bewilders me. ARE PEOPLE REALLY THAT STUPID, that blind, that ignorant? Sadly, the answer is yes.

! STOP means 'stop', but we know people drive about 3 yards past the sign and sadly, this is where the roadkill begins. Don't feed the animals! Well, forget that sign. Do you know how many tourists unwrap their picnic lunches just to feed the bears, raccoons and coyotes. RABIES is not a word that registers with them, and the Parksboard even spells it out clearly in 3 languages with PICTURES Ride bikes on one side, pedestrians on the other. Do you know how many human/bike collisions there are each year because someone didn't look up at the obvious and stay in their 'lane'. Over 1,463,284 reported injuries! Okay, I lied but I bet that's close! Sometimes I just sit at a park bench (unless a sign says 'NO LOITERING') and wait for a woman with a cane to be steamrolled by a roller-blader...eh, it's in the news daily! And 'no fly zones' for birds? Yes, birds do understand that sign. They're intelligent, pay their taxes and will surely try not to be ticketed by a Heron in Blue with a badge. Count on it! Grrrrrrrrrrr.... so this is where my tax money goes? The biggest threat from that sign is that the birds will likely sh*t all over it before the end of the day.

We also have more obvious signs posted in parks: 'DO NOT LITTER (fine ensues)'. Now, my guess is that anyone who just doesn't care about the environment is not going to ADHERE to that sign unless there is a policeman standing two feet away. Butts are everywhere, cans are tossed in lakes and wrappers are not men beating out a song.... That's why we have VOLUNTEERS (or people on parole) with stick to stab the litter and bag it. No-one looks at that sign. You're either a clean person with a caring attitude or YOU DON'T GIVE A CRAP!

DO NOT USE A CELL PHONE is about the most non-threatening sign to anyone in the public. People would hand over their first born before handing over their cell phones and you know it. So, since that by-law began I've only seen 'just about anyone' with a cell phone driving and yapping. I glare at them at stop signs (the other disregarded sign) and that's pointless..because they're ENJOYING THE CALL or MAKING A DEAL WITH THEIR LAWYER!

I was driving through farmland and there was a sign that said 'BEWARE OF SLOW MOVING FARM VEHICLES'... I saw the cows in the field and the hay bales in the field..I think IT'S PRETTY OBVIOUS THERE MAY BE A TRACTOR ON THIS LONG STRIP OF COUNTRY ROAD. And, note to self, "have not seen another car for the past hour!".

One that really gets me going is the picture of the dog taking it's daily dump with a red line through it. OKAY, tell your dog this. TELL YOUR DOG HE/SHE CAN'T POOP WHEN HE REALLY HAS TO GO. Seriously, I have seen people dragging their poor mutts down a sidewalk while they're cramped over, and ready to let it all out. Isn't this a form of animal cruelty? WOULD YOU like to be told, "sorry, you cannot go to the bathroom even though your bladder is bursting but, enjoy your walk!"

Children crossing in school zones = another no-brainer. If a person is a speeder, or has at least been to kindergarten, they KNOW YOU SLOW DOWN in a school zone...but, it's like the LITTER SIGNS...it's not going to happen unless the men in blue are right outside the school. Sad, but true.

I love the 'TURN OFF SIGNS' on the highways....the "NEXT FOUR EXITS BEFORE THE SO and SO BRIDGE"...20 yards later..."THE NEXT THREE EXITS BEFORE THAT BRIDGE WE TOLD YOU ABOUT BEFORE."...another 20 yards, "THE NEXT TWO EXITS BEFORE THAT TURN OFF, YOU KNOW THE ONE ABOUT THE BRIDGE YOU WANT TO GET ON."...another 20 yards..."THIS IS THE BRIDGE!!! THIS IS THE BRIDGE!!! TURN!!!" Well, it's almost that bizarre. I would like to make my own signs and post them around the city:

1."DON'T TALK TO THE GUY IN THE COFFEE SHOP WEARING THE RED SHIRT EVERY DAY...HE'S A GANGSTER" 2. "DON'T ASK ME FOR MONEY, I JUST LOST MY JOB." 3. "FEEL FREE TO SMILE AND SAY GOOD-MORNING, IT'S FREE! NO FINES!" 4. "KEEP YOUR SKUNKS ON A LEASH" 5. "DON'T YELL AT YOUR WIFE AT 3:00 A.M.. IT KEEPS ME AWAKE!" 6. "PLEASE DO NOT RIDE YOUR BIKE ON THE SIDEWALK BECAUSE I ACTUALLY WALK ON IT."

and

7. PLEASE DON'T SHOOT ME EVEN THOUGH YOUR BROKEN DOWN SIGN SAYS 'NO TRESPASSING' CUZ I'M ONLY TRYING TO TAKE A PICTURE!!.

...and that's my cue to SIGN OUT!