Tag Archives: memories

Here comes the rain

Living in the Vancouver Lower Mainland, I miss the rainy season in Barbados. When the rainy season hits on this tropical island, it meant a morning rainstorm with water droplets the size of coins soaking you in seconds, followed by the cloud cover passing you and the rain stopping almost instantly. After that there was 20-30 minutes of uncomfortable humidity as the hot sun evaporated the rainwater. Maybe this would happen again later, but often it wasn’t until the next day.

Occasionally you’d get a cloudy, cool day that lasted the whole day with intermittent rainfall, but there might only be 5-10 days like that the whole season. Maybe I’m underplaying it, after all I was 9 when I left, but I remember a rainy season I could easily handle.

Today was a reminder that BC rain is nothing like that. I spent over an hour outside in misty rain, putting our above ground pool away. It was damp, and there was a constant drizzle or mist. It was gloomy. There was hardly a time during the day that I could tell you where the sun was due to the heavy cloud cover… And the season is just starting.

The worst two months of weather here are usually November and February. But the gloominess starts now. I’ll make the most of the grey days to come, even heading to and from work in the dark. I’ll continue to take my Vitamin D, and I’ll use my sunlight desk lamp at school. But I have to admit that I’d take the rainy season in Barbados any time over the rainy season in Vancouver.

Music memories

This evening a high school friend is meeting me and we are going to a Tangerine Dream concert. He introduced me to music like this, Mike Oldfield, Kitaro, and Jean Michel Jarre.

While I don’t often listen to this music now, it was ‘instrumental’ in my university years. I would often play a home made cassette of Tangerine Dream or Jean Michel Jarre to go to sleep. Kitaro was my study music. Oldfield’s Tubular Bells was a song I’d listen to on repeat when I wanted to memorize something or if I was writing creatively.

It’s interesting how music can define a time in your life, it can symbolize an era. This music was introduced to me in my final years in high school and sustained me for my university years. Tonight I get to revisit these years with my friend who opened my eyes, and ears, to a totally different kind of music.

The power of music

Almost everyone can quote the first line of this poetic verse from William Shakespeare’s opening of Twelfth Night:

“If music be the food of love, play on;

Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting,

The appetite may sicken, and so die.

That strain again! it had a dying fall:

O, it came o’er my ear like the sweet sound,

That breathes upon a bank of violets,

Stealing and giving odour! Enough; no more:

‘Tis not so sweet now as it was before.

O spirit of love! how quick and fresh art thou,

That, notwithstanding thy capacity

Receiveth as the sea, nought enters there,

Of what validity and pitch soe’er,

But falls into abatement and low price,

Even in a minute: so full of shapes is fancy

That it alone is high fantastical.”

—

A young boy is so in love that he hopes if he has too much of it, like food he would get sick of it… lose his appetite for it. But despite this hope the love continues, as he actually desires.

—

Next week I’m going to a Tangerine Dream concert with a high school friend who introduced me to this band and others like Jean-Michel Jarre, and Kitaro. At the time the depth of my musical appreciation was Led Zeppelin, AC⚡️DC, and The Who. I was taken into an alternate dimension of musical breadth by my buddy. He made me experience music in a way that was a full body feeling rather than an experience for my ears. I didn’t truly feel music yet, that came a few years later in an NLP communication class, but for my teenage years, this musical experience was transformative.

I used to listen these more alternative bands/musicians before bed. I’d fall asleep to instrumentals that altered my mood and calmed me. No mind altering drugs required, just a tape cassette player, and my bed.

I still use music to alter my state. I have a play list for working out, for writing, and for sleep. Each one different, each one designed around my desired state. I’m not musical, I don’t play an instrument, I don’t want to take the time to learn… but I do enjoy using great music to set the mood for me. I will always let music feed me.

“If music be the food of love, play on.”

The photograph

Five unruly cousins on a park bench. Our uncle taking the photo. No chance of us all sitting quietly and smiling at the same time.

“Ok, here’s the deal,” my uncle says. “Pose for one nice one then I’ll let you do anything you want for the next picture.”

Here we are about 45 years later and only one of those pictures survived. Only one mattered enough to be blown up and framed. The smiles long faded to distant memory… but ‘anything you want’ was exactly want we wanted, and what we still want.

It’s amazing what you get when you let kids be kids.

Being different

I’m lucky.

I’ve been an odd duck my whole life but I’ve rarely suffered consequences that many odd ducks do. I was 4’11” at the end of grade 9, the runt of the litter. But I had good friends that protected me from the bullying I could have faced.

My friends grew up looking at cars and dreaming about which ones they wanted. I looked at cars and the biggest difference I noticed was their colour. I couldn’t even identify their logos. I didn’t feign interest and so my friends would chat about acceleration and horsepower and didn’t care that I wasn’t contributing.

I saw the original Star Wars movies in theatres but was with a friend last night who was showing me all the sequels beyond the original 6 movies and I’ve barely seen any. I’ve also not seen most of the Marvel comic movies that everyone I know has seen. Not even most of the ones with my favourite character, Spiderman. And I only know of Thanos from 1 minute clips and memes.

I live in Vancouver and can’t name 3 current hockey players on the Canucks. Heck I can’t even name one. I’d struggle to name the cities of some of the expansion teams. I also don’t know the names of any current American or CFL footballers and can only name Messi in soccer because he’s in the news, but right now I can’t even think of his first name?

I grew up a scrawny kid that wasn’t good at playing sports, I didn’t know cars, didn’t stay up to date on movie lore, didn’t follow very many sports, and to this day know the lyrics to very few songs beyond Happy Birthday. I’ve also always been quite comfortable when I’m alone. When I put it this way, I sound pretty damn boring. 😂

Sure I wasn’t completely out of it. I did become a Maple Leafs fan and would go see hockey games with my buddies. I went to see movies with my friends, like Breakfast Club, Meatballs, and Back To The Future. And, I could tell the difference between a Pontiac and a Porsche. But when I look back I really didn’t fit in.

I joined water polo in my Grade 11 year and I was un-athletic and lacked any game sense, which made me (deservingly) the last person off the bench in games. But I was willing to work hard and was accepted despite my poor abilities. That acceptance allowed me to improve quickly and so despite my late entry into organized sports I got to play and coach competitively, and connected to some amazing people.

I also have pretty thick skin. I can get teased and it really doesn’t bug me. You want to pick on a weakness or a flaw, go ahead and I’ll laugh along with you. I am really only sensitive about being misunderstood. I dislike assumptions that people make, not actual things that make me different or odd.

I seldom if ever spend time trying to fit in. Yet over the years I’ve developed amazing friends that accept me for who I am. That’s why I started out by saying I’m lucky. I am. I could easily have been the odd duck, the outcast, the loner. But I’m just quirky old me, and I’m surrounded by wonderful, caring family and friends.

I’m just different. So are you. We all are. Enjoy your uniqueness and enjoy being different. I do.

Blast from the past

Yesterday I went to a friends house. I knew he was trying to gather some old friends I haven’t seen in a while, but did not expect to see so many, including 6 people I haven’t seen in over 25 years. To put this in a bit more perspective, of these six, the oldest is 49, so I hadn’t seen them in more than half their lifetimes.

They were all from my water polo coaching career, and I knew them all as high school students, when I worked at a highschool as lifeguard as well as swim and water polo coach, and also coached a club team that many of them played on. Reminiscing was so much fun! It was shocking to me how young some of these (almost 50 year old) ‘kids’ looked. It was a delight to hear about their families, and lives since I knew them.

I find it wonderfully heartwarming that I can meet someone I haven’t seen in so long and yet it’s almost like no time has passed since we last met. Sports does that, they build a comradery among players and coaches that can last a lifetime.

Those 6 were not the only people gathered. There were several others who were there whom I haven’t seen since before covid, and so while the gap wasn’t that long, it was still amazing to spend time with them.

I marvel that so much time has passed since my coaching days… since I trained and coached with these dedicated, young athletes. They were my extended family. They still feel that way. That so much time can pass and yet I feel so connected, is very special.

This gathering is something I’ll remember for a very long time… and hopefully it won’t be another 25 years before I see them all again.

Family from far away

Tonight we visited with my mom’s brother and family while they are in town. I saw them just before COVID, with 2 of their now 3 grandkids. Before that short visit, it had been over a decade since I’d seen them all. I also met some of my aunt’s siblings and one of their kids, now a full adult. I hadn’t seen him for over 30 years. I remember playing with him and his sister when they used to vacation in Barbados, my childhood home where my uncle and aunt, and their son and family still live.

It was so wonderful to reconnect. To reminisce, and catch up, and just be in the presence of distant family. There were times when we were all so loud, with kids being louder in the background that it was hard to hear the conversation. But instead of being a distraction, it was a reminder of family gatherings at my grandparents, where we had regular get togethers for dinner, in a large 2-bedroom condominium. For those dinners we’d have at least 20 and sometimes 30+ people filling the place.

I remember the first time I took my wife to one of these gatherings, it was absolutely overwhelming for her. She grew up with just her siblings and parents, with her closest relatives, her grandfather, living an 8-hour drive away. To her it was chaos, while to me it was a typical Friday night.

Tonight was a reminder of those gatherings. It was a reminder of how blessed my grandparents were to always be surrounded by loving family. It was a reminder that while geography can keep us apart, family are a treasure to spend time with.

Heading home

It’s our last morning in Kelowna at Bear Creek Campground and it’s quite hazy with smoke. We actually had fantastic, clear days for our holidays, especially compared to 2 years ago when most days we could barely see across the lake.

A highlight of our trip was our daily 35 minute walk on the other side of the highway.

It starts with 149 steps and basically goes up and around a waterfall that you can hear, but not see, on the hike. Another highlight was the waterfall hike.

We love this holiday, and spending it with our friends 2 campsites over makes it all the more wonderful.

Now we are sitting and waiting for the trailer pick-up, (we rent it and have it delivered to our site), and then we start are 4 hour drive home. I find it humorous that Canadians are just about the only people who share distances as time travelled. Kelowna isn’t 373 kilometres away, it’s 4 hours. When you live in a huge country, it doesn’t matter what the kilometres are, it matters how long it takes to get where you are going.

Going home is always bitter sweet. There is a comfort in getting back to home base, but there is also a subtle melancholy about ending your vacation. I say subtle because it’s not as pervasive as the positive memories, but it is present. Unlike heading on holidays, there is no excited anticipation, no thoughts of what’s to come (other than unpacking and laundry), but there is still a positive feel to the journey. Like the cliche ending of a movie where the star rides off into the sunset, there are more stories to come, more adventures for another day, but first, the journey home.

Packing up

It’s amazing how much time we spend preparing to go on a vacation and then preparing to go home. This is especially true camping, but also when flying somewhere.

Whether it’s packing the car or a suitcase, it takes time. Whether driving or flying, it takes time. Holidays are wonderful, but how much of the holidays are spent in transition… from one location to another and from closet to suitcase? Entire days are spent getting to and from a location, settling in, and preparing to leave.

One of our favourite family vacations was to Costa Rica. But we made one mistake on that trip. Three places we stayed at were for only 2 nights. Day one you are traveling, day two is the only full day, and day three you need to get out of your hotel before noon. A better plan is at least 3 nights in a location.

Give yourself two full days to explore a city. If not, you spend more time traveling, unpacking, and repacking, and planning your next stop, than you do actually enjoying yourself.

Our current trailer camping trip was almost 2 weeks, so we didn’t have that problem, but still I’m amazed how much time we spend getting ready to travel both to and from home. The good news is that we won’t be in a rush tomorrow, we are already 90% packed. I’ve enjoyed my trip and look forward to being home… at least I’m looking forward to it after we’ve completely unpacked!

City on the Edge of Forever

I’ve been on a few hikes, but “City on the Edge of Forever” has to be one of my favourite hike trail names.

The views were spectacular and I connected with a friend whom I’ve mostly known online, in meetings, and at conferences. Yet every time we connect I feel like I’m with a lifelong friend. The one difference… each time we connect I learn something new about him.

We all have past experiences that are stories from another era in our lives. It’s easy to dismiss them as ancient, to share them as if they were ‘in a past life’. But these stories are the stories that made us. They are the stories that created the person we are today.

Sometimes people can get stuck on who they ‘used to be’ and I don’t think that’s healthy. But it’s also not healthy to reflect on those past experiences like they belong to someone else.

I’m no longer an athlete. Even when I was one, I was a hard working grunt, not a talented athlete… but I was still an athlete. I take care of myself now, but I’m no athlete, and honestly unlikely to be one ever again. But the skills I learned, the work ethic, the sportsmanship, the dedication to something I loved doing… those things I take with me to the edge of forever.

The scenery today was great, but learning more about my friend was even better.