Tag Archives: humour

I am…

I am not a slam poet,
too many stutters and ‘ummms’ would I make,
I could never recite this all in. Just. One. Take.

I am not a storyteller that captivates,
enthrals, excites, and engages,
I don’t have audiences that applaud me,
on pedestals and stages.

I am not an actor,
I don’t dream of the limelight,
I’d rather be the stagehand
working out of sight.

I am not, I am not,
I am not all of these things,
I can’t dance, I can’t play an instrument,
can’t hold a note when I sing…

It would be easy to go on.
To cut myself up critically.
It’s what ‘most’ people do,
and we all know ‘most’ is at least 51% statistically.

But for everything that I am not,
there is yet something that I am.
For every I can’t,
there are things that I can.

I can write a blog post,
and share it each day.
I can develop my ideas,
and put them on display.

I am creative,
I am thoughtful, and reflective,
I may not alway be right,
but I’m not afraid to share my perspective.

I am a writer, not a poet
though I may try,
I can still be witty, sarcastic,
and sometimes even wry.

I can share my thoughts,
I can express what I think,
For I am artist of words,
typing digital ink.

I am the thinker and creator
of this rhyming verse,
Somewhat embarrassed,
though I know it could be worse.

I am a blogger,
I express ideas our loud,
I am a digital writer,
often humbled, yet proud.

For I am a writer, daily,
and I publicly share,
My words start of private,
until I put them ‘out there’.

Out in the ether
goes my digital text,
and you’ll have to wait until tomorrow
to see what’s next…

Poor Visibility

Our destination was 40 feet away, we just couldn’t get there.

I was in Montreal for a water polo tournament, and three of us decided to stay an extra couple nights, so that we could ski at Mont Tremblant. When the ski day arrived, we woke up early and began the drive to the mountain. Unfortunately the snow started around the same time and visibility was horrible.

The Honda Accord I was driving was good in the snow, but my windshield wipers were on their last legs, and I had to constantly use the washer fluid to help with visibility… then we ran out of this fluid and things got bad. Visibility was awful, but the snow wasn’t wet enough, and my wipers smeared the dirty windshield and the wipers started to tear. Visibility was so bad that I had to pull off the highway.

This was not an era of cell phones and GPS, and the map we had was a brochure, with basic highway instructions, which didn’t include the small exit we just took. We had no idea where we were or where we needed to get to in order to remedy our visibility problem.

Then we got lucky. The first road we took ended at a ‘T’ intersection and as we were pondering which way to go, we saw a Honda dealership just to the right of the intersection. What luck! We drove in and picked up new windshield wipers, but they didn’t have windshield wiper fluid. We asked directions to the nearest gas station and used a few plastic cups of water from their water fountain to help us clean the windshield. It also stopped snowing so other than very slippery roads, our situation was much improved. At least we could see!

It only took us about 5 minutes to get to the intersection of the gas station, and that’s when the trouble started. The gas station was at the top of a very small hill, but the grade of the hill was pretty steep and I couldn’t get the Honda up it. My all-season tires were no equal to this snowy incline.

My friends got out and pushed. No progress. I gave one of my friends a chance at the wheel and I pushed. No success. My other friend took a turn. The gas station remained 40 feet away. We weren’t going to get the car there.

We weren’t going to get the car there… That was my defeated sense, before the very simple realization that you, the reader, have probably already come to. But for me it was both a stroke of insight and also a moment to laugh at myself and my dejected friends.

I walked 40 feet up the hill, purchased the windshield wiper fluid, and brought it to the car. Minutes later we were on our way to the mountain with new windshield wipers and a full talk of washer fluid.

Sarcasm, even spelt right too!

2011-06-20_07

I think Cassie was only 3 years old when she started asking me, “Dad, are you being tar-tas-tic again?”
This is from her Father’s Day card.
It’s interesting but I really don’t think that my sarcasm plays out online. I tend not to use it as it is too easily interpreted as rude or at times even scathing. So instead I barrage my kids with it. I’m sure as they get older their eyes will role-over as I embarrass them in front of their friends, (the eye-rolls have already started), but my editing filter shuts off at home. So, my girls will just have to put up with me… even with my sarcasm. 🙂

Give a man a fish…

Give a man a fish and feed him for a day, teach a man to fish and he’ll overfish for profit and diminish supply at an alarming rate, teach a man to learn and to critically access a network of all human knowledge and he just might contribute to a solution to over-fishing or to feeding the 7 billion people on this planet.

I came up with this fun little adaptation of an old metaphor in a comment on Will Richardson’s blog post: ‘A new culture of learning‘… thought I’d share it here too:-)