SAY "NO" TO THE SHRINE CIRCUS!

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE:

Windsor Animal Action Group to protest SHRINE CIRCUS at “The Barn” - Wednesday July 8th / 2009

Windsor, Ontario - 2009
Windsor Animal Action Group (W.A.A.G.) will stage a public demonstration AGAINST the Shrine Circus and its use of animals TODAY at 3pm and 6pm in front of Windsor Arena (aka – “The Barn”) - 572 McDougall Street.

Animals used in circuses may be confined for hours, even days, in their travelling cages, with their only respite being either limited time in an exercise cage, being rehearsed, or performing. It is impossible for a travelling menagerie to provide circus animals with the facilities they need.
In short – animals should not be used in a Circus show. WAAG believes animals should not be used for entertainment – and the “tricks” that elephants are FORCED to perform – are not natural. They are motivated by fear. Supporting an animal circus – is supporting animal abuse.
Join WAAG – TODAY at 3pm and at 6pm in front of Windsor Arena - 572 McDougall Street - to protest the use of animals in the Shrine Circus. Animal abuse is NOT welcome in Windsor!

-end-

"Huh," he thought. "Kinda pretty."

I was running at the Ford Test Track yesterday, and I was scanning the condition of the park area.
It's true, the grass is waist high - and entire benches are swallowed up by all the over-growth...
But...
As I was jogging around, huffing and puffing and dripping with sweat, I couldn't help but notice how beautiful it was.
Electric blue flowers. Bright yellows. Oranges. Purples.
Lush greens.
It looked like a big meadow of rainbows. I was taken away - for a minute - from Windsor, and the stink of the garbage, and I didn't see the over-growth as a sad reminder of the torn state of the city.
Instead...it reminded me of how bloody out of touch I am with ... nature.
For real.
I remember playing in fields as a kid. Picking big bouquets of wild weed flowers. Hiding in the long grass...it reminded me of that.
Care-free in the summer as a kid.
Kids don't see uncut fields as a symbol of a city in the middle of an economic avalanche.
They see it as a really cool place to play.
And - it makes me depressed to say - but - It's been a long time since I've seen a completely untouched meadow and really looked at it, for what it was.
A simple thing of beauty.
And that's what the Ford Test Track has become.
I want the strike to end, don't get me wrong.
And I don't want this strike to be all for naught for the CUPE workers. They've EARNED what they are after - and my hat is off to them.
But - if it's all about trying to find the good in things, right now, it's simply back to the basics.
I felt like I was walking around at Point Pelee, instead of a sterile, uniform, well-manicured park.
It didn't feel like Windsor...it didn't look like the city - or what the city has recently become.
Amazing how the colours compliment each other - perfectly - they're matched up and balanced out and spread around like a painting - but painted out with more skill than a human could ever possibly execute.
Everything in its right place.
I know, I know...it's an illusion.
But - it's nice to stop and smell the flowers once in a while.
I don't think any of us do it enough.
At least I don't.

Scardy Cat.

So I realized yesterday that I'm pretty much afraid of everything.
Birds. Stray dogs. Too much sun.
The dark.
Ghosts.
All rational stuff, right?
Hear me out.
Wayne isn't all that big into horror movies.
I on the other hand, live for them.
So, I was tickled pink yesterday afternoon when we stumbled upon the opening credits to Poltergeist.
"You know," I noted, "This is my favourite movie from when I was a kid."
I was pleasantly surprised when I noticed Wayne getting into the film. Perhaps a whole new stone was turned - and he'll FINALLY realize the beauty of a good old ghost story.
Anyway - it got to the part where the big scary tree breaks through the window and snatches the boy out of his bed. I was on the edge of my seat even though I knew exactly how it would play out because I've watched the movie zillions of times.
The parents run outside to rescue him, and the little bratty girl (Carol Ann, R.I.P.) gets sucked up into her closet.
Beautiful.
It went to commercial, and Wayne looked at me, eyes slanted with suspicion, and asked:
"How old were you again when you watched this?"
"Five," I replied. "Why?"
He immediately threw his arms in the air, as if he'd just made a GIGANTIC realization.
"Well good GOD - THIS movie is like every single one of your fears combined! There's no WAY you should have watched this back then!"
I thought for a moment, chewing a finger nail.
"You think so?"
"Of course! My god - Dan - think for a minute about how much this movie scarred you! To this day you can't sleep with the lights out!"
You know, he had a point.
I haven't slept alone with the lights out for nearly 17 years.
And I don't mean I need a night light.
I have a full-on phobia of the dark.
I keep the full light switch ON when I go to sleep, if I have to sleep alone.
I don't do "dark" very well.
Oh - and "alone in the dark"? I don't do that scenario at all.
Then I thought about how I hate it if there is a photograph in the room and it's dark, because I feel like the eyes in the picture are watching me.
Any kind of figurine - or even a toy - if it has eyes - has to be turned to face the wall before I go to sleep.
I've always had a deep phobia of eyes watching me when I'm not aware.
Just like the kid and the clown in Poltergeist. He had to make sure the clown's face was covered before he could rest easy.
I also hate clowns.
I'm also afraid of shadows. And mirrors. And silence.
I worry that my reflection will wink at me or make a face back at me.
I know, I know, of COURSE this will never happen.
But it happened to the ghost researcher guy in Poltergeist. Remember - he witnessed his own reflection tearing his face apart? God that freaked me out.
And silence. I'm terrified of silence.
I need music on - constantly or I get uneasy. I constantly listen to music - almost 24 hours a day.
In the morning, on the way to work, all day at work, on the way home from work, when I go for a walk or a run, when I'm on the computer - I have headphones on - and when I go to sleep (with our without the light on) I put a CD on to ease me off into slumber. The radio and stereo in my house is always on.
If it's quiet, I can't relax.
I know, I know - "Maybe you should go seek professional help for this, if phobias run your life.."
Right?
Well, easier said than done.
See, I'm afraid of therapists.
I worry they'll prescribe me medicine or change my thought patterns or just completely flip my way of thinking and I'll be a different person.
I'd worry, I'd be a paranoid wreck, dishing out my inner-most thoughts to a stranger while they scratch words on paper and apply theories to my pshcye that they learned in University.
I flunked out of university in 1997.
I didn't understand the theories. And anything I don't understand, I'm usually afraid of.
That's why I'm so terrified of flying.
I don't get it. I don't understand how that big, gigantic, thousand tonne machine (with wings that don't even flap) can fly. Seriously - is that even possible?
Or is it magic?
No - therapy certainly wouldn't be for me.
I'm far too full of myself to listen to anyone.
Here's the spin I put on my life:
I try to find the silver lining in ANYTHING and everything - and get this: Oddly enough - it's always there.
Always.
How insane is that?
You have to look hard sometimes, but it's there.
How I see it - listening to music for 24 hours a day... isn't a bad thing at all. It's not a crutch.
It's a wonderful thing. It helps me think. It helps me focus.
Sleeping with the light on when I'm all alone?
Well - this is only a reminder that I am hardly ever alone.
Which is a wonderful feeling. I've been happily NOT married for almost a decade.
I'm reminded of this happiness every single day - and I do not take it for granted for a single SECOND.
The whole "ghosts" thing...?
Well - that's my imagination. And that's a big part of who I am.
My imagination has always been wild and untamed and I suppose the fact that I watch the most horrific movies on the planet obsessively - well...that doesn't help matters.
But let's be real here, for a minute.
If having a gigantic, larger than life imagination is my one and only cross to bear - I think I'm doing okay in life.
In fact, I think I'm doing better than okay. For every single scary thought that goes through my mind, I'm happy to report there a billion more that are happy and fantastical.
I spend most of my time in la la land - every single day - which probably makes me equal parts irresponsible - and lucky.
It's a great place to be. It's not to say I'm oblivious to my surroundings, but the corners of our mind are infinite - and if you're going to explore them - you're going to find some dark spots.
Some creepy, shady territory.
And that's okay. You can't have light without making a few shadows, right?
I guess I'm just an extra cautious kind of guy...I like to keep my eye on them.
You know..."just in case".

History.

When I was 8 years old, that Christmas - under the tree - were three vinyl records.
Culture Club - Color by Numbers, Madonna - Like a Virgin and Michael Jackson - Thriller.
I thought Michael Jackson was the coolest guy in the world, mainly because he had zombies and monsters in his video.
But, like many kids my age - I kind of wanted to be him too. I wanted to do the moonwalk, wear a glitter glove, buy a red leather jacket with zippers - and maybe even have that one perfectly placed dangly little curl resting just over my brow.
Yup. I was an M-J wannabe.
And the songs - I have to admit - hit me hard as well.
Thriller, Human Nature and PYT (Pretty Young Thing) - I thought at the time, were the coolest songs in the world. They were amazing. Unlike anything I had EVER heard.
Come on - you KNOW PYT is a sweet song...
The BAD album came out - and while I was no longer a wannabe, I couldn't deny how great the songs were. Man in the Mirror in particular, had a huge effect on me.
That song put him on a whole new level of song-writing in my opinion. I was touched - MOVED by the message that song gave.
I remember seeing concert footage of people, worked up in a frenzy, fainting, tears streaming down their faces, being carried out of his shows in a stretcher because they were so caught up in the...mania of his persona.
I'd never seen anything like it. I don't think anyone had ever seen anything like it.
Sure there was Beatlemania...but - Beatlemania was NEVER like this.
This was something unique. This was a pop music first.
This was something special.
I understood Michael Jackson...I did.
But I didn't get the mania.
I didn't get why people were crying and screaming.
His songs were good.
But hysteria-inducing?
Hmmm...
And I got older. High school rolled around.
The Dangerous record came out - and I had all but outgrown Michael Jackson.
The songs seemed a little too R&B-ish, but in a cheese way - and the "bad ass electric guitar" riffs...well...they seemed forced and unnatural.
And that was that. Michael Jackson was something I loved...as a child.
And only as a child.
And after that...? Well...the child molestation charges...the plastic surgery...the face masks...and the music...well, the music just wasn't there anymore.

Yesterday - I was shocked and sad - it's strange when not only the biggest star in the world passes away - but a childhood idol as well.
I was watching TV, listening to countless celebrities and fans and music critics talk about him.
"Genius".
"Song-writing super force."
"Insanely creative and inventive."
"Musical wonder who crafted songs unlike anything this world has ever seen."
Don't get me wrong - there's no doubt in mind that the industry took a hit when Michael Jackson passed away...but it made me think of that "hysteria", the masses of people reaching for him like he was some kind of a God.
So built up. A pedestal so high off the ground.
So far away from reality.
Hm. Reality.
That's a funny thing. What you hear and what you see...behind the scenes...it's often very, very different.
"A song-writing genius unlike ANYTHING the world has ever seen."
I thought back about all those songs - my favourites - that I used to love...I had to admit - he did write some of the most definitive hits of my childhood...
Or ...did he?
I looked it up:

Thriller - written by Rod Temperton.
PYT (Pretty Young Thing) - written by James Ingram and Quincey Jones.
Human Nature - written by John Bettis and Steve Porcaro.
Man in the Mirror - written by Glen Ballard and Siedah Garrett
You Are Not Alone - written by R.Kelly

A song-writing genius unlike ANYTHING the world has ever seen?
Above are some of my favourite Michael Jackson songs...and - he didn't have a single hand in writing them.
And album wise...while one can't deny he's been around for a looong time...Really, he only had two gigantic albums that made an impact.
One could argue that Thriller carried his entire career.
Thriller and Bad. It was downhill from there, musically.

"A song writing genius unlike anything the world has ever seen."

Scenario:
If a bar was to hold a tribute night - one for Michael Jackson...and one for Prince...
Which do you think would do better?
Think for a minute:
EVERY single song in Prince's catalogue - (at least from the late 70's, 80's and early 90's - his best decades) go by the credit:
"All songs written, arranged, produced, composed and performed by Prince."
Boom.The guy can play 30-something instruments - and penned songs that launched the careers of Sinead O'Connor, the Bangles, Sheila E., - and gave countless other hits to countless other musicians.
One man. Thousands of amazing, iconic songs.
I would place money on it - that songs like Purple Rain, Kiss, Little Red Corvette, Raspberry Beret, Cream, 1999, I Could Never Take the Place of Your Man, Controversy, DMSR...they can all stand up to tracks like Thriller and Beat It and Billie Jean.
Easily. Thriller...it's a great song to play on Halloween.
But ...really? Unlike anything the world has EVER seen?

I sometimes think Prince got under-rated or over-shadowed by Michael Jackson. Everything said about Michael Jackson, really should be said about Prince.
Michael Jackson was good - no doubt in my mind.
But "a song writing genius, unlike anything the world has ever seen before?"

I disagree.
I think this would be true about John Lennon. Prince. Bob Dylan.
But Michael Jackson's songs...well - he didn't write some of his BIGGEST hits...and the ones he did write? Yeah - Billie Jean is a great song...
But so is Material Girl by Madonna. So is She Bop by Cyndi Lauper.
They are fun, poppy 80's gems.
Fun, 80's fluff.
Bad and Smooth Criminal...while I can certainly shake my ass to them...they certainly aren't going to change my life either.

It's the mania, the hype, the mystery - the insane plastic surery, the freakish behaviour, the Neverland ranch, the bizarre interviews, the Lisa Marie Presley kiss, Bubbles the Chimp...that's the stuff that Michael Jackson was famous for since 1989.

Not his songs.

Well - he did have Scream. That was a big hit...
Speaking of which:
Scream - co-written with Janet Jackson, Terry Lewis, Jimmy Jam.

One can't even say he was a great business man.

I mean - the guy had the GREATEST SELLING album in the HISTORY of the United States...AND he OWNED half the Beatles catalogue of music.
Imagine OWNING the Beatles catalogue of music...?

And he went broke.

How does one eff something like that up?

You have the BIGGEST selling album of all time - legions of screaming fans...you own the Beatles music...and you go broke.

I don't mean to piss all over the guy - I really don't...but I'm hearing people get caught up again...
Caught up in the thing that...perhaps...was all Michael Jackson ever was:
Hype.

Lots and lots of well-planned, strategically placed ...hype.

A unique voice. Catchy tunes. A great look. Amazing choreography.
Good songs...many of which he did not write.

"Biggest and greatest superstar and entertainer in the world"?
YES.
I agree. (Although one could VERY easily say this is Madonna's title - and let's face it - she has more tours, more songs - more writing credits - and ...she can put on a HELL of a show that can compete with the best of them.)
People loved to watch him. People loved to immitate him. People loved pondering things like "does he wear a wig?", "Why are his kids white?", "Were either of his marriages legit?"...
He is a legend.
He will always be a legend. No question there.
But for me...there was always something that never QUITE lived up to the hype.

He was an icon, no doubt about it.
But...I don't know, maybe I'm just a music snob...the music - aside from a few hits in the 80's...was secondary to how GIGANTIC he became.
He was bigger than his music.

But really...what does any of it mean?
He was an idol and people loved him and it sucks when anyone passes away.

I have to get my mind back - back to when I was the little boy - the 8 year old, unwrapping the Thriller record with stars in his eyes...the kid who liked him "because he had monsters and zombies in his video".
That kid ...will miss him.
That kid was part of the hype.
That kid had posters on his wall, wore a white glitter glove and sweated his ass off in leather pants on the first day of grade 2. Because of Michael Jackson.

That kid...He'll miss him a whole lot.

And...I will too.

Now You're Just Talkin' Trash.

This was a tough read today:

WINDSOR, Ont. -- Eleven weeks into a strike by his own city’s workers, Windsor’s mayor has become a media darling in Toronto, where civic employees walked off the job Monday.

“I’m getting tons and tons of calls,” Eddie Francis said Wednesday between juggling calls from television news anchors, radio talk show hosts and newspaper reporters.

What everyone wants to know is how Windsor has managed to survive so long through a bitter strike while Toronto is already drowning in garbage and stinking waste mere days into its municipal work stoppage.

If Windsorites hadn’t listened to the pleadings of the mayor and council and taken charge of the garbage situation “clearly, it would have been a very different situation,” said Francis, who tells Torontonians that three-quarters of Windsor’s garbage stream is being handled by residents themselves.

Pardon my french...but EXCUSE THE FUCK OUT OF ME?
No no no, if people hadn't gone on Kijiji and hired some guys a buck fifty a bag to take their trash away, things would have been a VERY different situation.
If people hadn't gone and given their garbage to folks living in...oh say - TECUMSEH...(has the Toronto media contacted THEM about their garbage scenario?) - things would have been a very different situation.
Are we really giving Eddie Francis credit for this strike being handled well? Is it because we were good little zombies and listened to the wise words of our leader?
No- we cleaned shit up because we had no other choice - because we were drowning in it - and we have some pride.
I got rid of my garbage because I was FORCED to.
FORCED.
Not because I was crossing a picket line.
Smack dab in the middle of not only the highest unemployment rate in Canada - but also summer festival season...we have a stubborn strike going on.
This is not being handled well, I'm sorry if I offend - but it's a disaster.
I'm not BASHING anyone...but all this patting on the back for how well it's being handled is sickening.

But of course, it gets better.

Not having garbage pile up in the streets, he (Mayor Francis) added, removed an “element of pressure” on the part of the strikers and strengthened the city’s position at the bargaining table.

The get-tough message Francis is delivering to Hogtown is infuriating leaders of CUPE, the union representing striking municipal workers in both cities.

"Get tough"? These are people's jobs.
This is a city which needs every bit of help it can get. He could have deferred this - to Fall. Fought it out then. Waited until times were better. We've had this same contract for years now - what's a little bit longer?
This is no time to "get tough" - not in Windsor.
Times are tough enough.
But he's a media darling.
So what? He's an expert at pro-longing strikes?
Toronto is a zillion times bigger than Windsor. It's a wee bit of a different situation.

I'm not going to vilify anyone...but - I think this is getting childish.

Francis said Wednesday that Ryan (from CUPE) challenged him in his office on how the city would respond when the garbage began piling up along the curbs and the union went door-to-door seeking political pressure on the employer.

“Clearly, CUPE’s strategy hinged on garbage piling up in neighbourhoods and then council would cave,” said Francis. “The public sent a message to council … to stand our ground. The message was: ‘We’ll take care of the garbage and you take care of our tax dollars,’” he said.

No. We weren't sending any message to the mayor or city council.
We did what we had to do because fruit flies were forming in our garbage, maggots were crawling through our rotting food - and rats, skunks and racoons are fattening up and starting to not really give a shit if it's night or day.
And why should they?
The eatins are good.

We sent our garbage away because we were FORCED TO.
Because we had no other choice.
That above statement...it just feels like we're being used as a pawn in a little game here.

Maybe he should take a walk down a west end street and take a whiff. There are some people who don't have the luxury of being able to whisk away their bags to friends in Tecumseh - or go online and hire some people to take their trash away.
On my way to work each day, I have to pass by piles of garbage, mounds of it - piles of 30 bags or more - and hope that no critters come scrambling out.

Again - as far as negotiating and taking sides - I'm going to say I'm staying neutral because I don't know HALF the shit going on...I only know what I see...and seriously - how much of that can anyone trust.
I'm a third party outsider...

But I will say this: I am sick of all the CUPE bashing.
Sick of it.
I am sick of how this city smells and looks.
And I'm really disgusted by someone taking a few pats on the back and becoming a "media darling" for how well this strike is being handled.
"Thank GOD we listened to the Mayor."
Do they REALLY think the majority of people think that?

Because I don't.

Windsor and Tecumseh: Let's Divide Ourselves as MUCH as Possible! It's Fun!

I read this today in the Windsor Star:

TECUMSEH, Ont. -- Deputy Mayor Tom Burton is so convinced the town’s new dog park is being overused by non-resident dogs that he wants the OPP to collar the offending owners and charge them with trespassing.

Burton got town council Tuesday to approve a motion to make the town’s new off-leash dog park off-limits to anyone who doesn’t buy a Tecumseh dog tag for their pet.

Burton wants a sign at Carling Park near LaCasse Road to warn that its fenced-off dog park was only for Tecumseh dogs. The OPP could charge offenders with trespassing, he suggested.

“We’re not providing a dog park for Essex County, unless Essex County wants to pay the tab,” Burton added.

I think this is a GREAT idea!!
I'll stay out of Tecumseh parks.
I think I might stay out of Tecumseh stores too.
And Tecumseh shops.
And Tecumseh restaurants.
And that big old Tecumseh Corn Fest?
Maybe every single Windsor resident should respect the "Tecumseh Folk Only" rule and leave that to them, and only them.
None of us should go.

Oh? And as far as Windsor?
Well - it's only fair that our parks are for Windsorites only!
No Tecumseh humans or dogs allowed!
Maybe Tecumseh folk can stay off our roads, too.
Stay out of our train station, our airport - our arena.
Better yet - maybe Windsor jobs would be better for Windsor people ONLY?
Tecumseh is doing so well without us, right?
They certainly don't need Windsor to survive.
But - Windsor - we're not doing so hot - so perhaps EVERY SINGLE TECUMSEH RESIDENT who has a job here in Windsor should be immediately dismissed and a Windsor person can take it.

Of course - I'm joking about all of this.
That would be stupid of me, to say such ridiculous things...seriously.

Yet...what Deputy Mayor Tom Burton is saying, is a slow push towards EXACTLY that.
It's unnecessary. It's bitchy. It's annoying.

But mostly, it's sad.
Really, really sad.
Windsorites are using Tecumseh's parks to walk their dog because they don't want to cross a picket line in their own city.

We're taking refuge in Tecumseh parks to give our dogs a place to run.
Our own parks are a mess...they're something we can't let our dogs run free in for fear of their paws being sliced to pieces from hidden broken glasss, or being bitten by burrowing rodents.
It's a nasty mess over here, in case anyone hasn't noticed.
We are a city divided and sliced and cut and chopped up into a million agonizing pieces.

This coming from Deputy Mayor Tom Burton now...It's more division.
More fences going up.
More rules.
More cash grabs.

Would Tecumseh people be okay with this? With their town charging them for a "Tecumseh Dog Tag"? With having to PAY for the right to walk their own dog in a park - a PUBLIC PARK - in their own town?
I wouldnt' be.

I think this is really sad.
It's a snub to Windsor, and Windsor is wounded, on her knees and doubled over at the moment.
I think it's uncalled for and sickening.

I'd like to PERSONALLY invite Tecumseh people to our city.
I welcome them with open arms.
Use our parks.
Shop in our stores.
Eat in our restaurants.
Enjoy our river front.
We need all the help we can get - and we shouldn't be afraid to ask for it.
We shouldn't be afraid to admit that.

But putting up a "WINDSORITES NOT WELCOME" sign on your dog park??
That's low.
And I hope no one in Windsor would EVER sink that low.
I also have faith in the good people of Tecumseh, that they won't either.

Nor should they HAVE to pay for a dog tag to walk their dog in their own park, in their own town.

I remember back in the day - before Tecumseh was a boom town - people said that Tecumseh was a leech - leeching off of...Windsor.

I never said this personally.
I like to think Tecumseh became a bustling little town on its own accord - and more power to them.

But oh, how the times have changed.
And this - this is over the top and disgusting.
And elitist.

It's a park. With grass and trees and it's open to the public.
It's green space.

Why is someone trying to make it illegal to go for a stroll in a beautiful park, in a beautiful town?
Why does anyone want to make such a thing "policed"?
Why should we - and when I say "we" - I mean Tecumseh people - because "we" are all the same - why should WE have to be scanned, and ID'd, and run through a "system" - only to be OK'd to ...walk our dogs?
Tecumseh and Windsor people...WE are the same. We're people. We're FRIENDS.
We work and play with each other. Every single day.
There is no "US" and "THEM" - that's just man made and stupid - usually invented because either a) It's a cash grab or b) someone's ego needs to be put on a leash, so to speak.

So why do we keep doing things like this to ourselves? To each other?
Why do we make something as fun and joyous as dog-walking...a big, ugly battle?
And why would anyone want to?

Do we really want to start doing this? Do we really want to start moving in *that* direction?

Anyone?

"Hi. I run. I'm a Runner."

*sigh*
So, I started running today.
For real. Well, not totally for real.
Kind of.
I kind-of started running.
I ran.
Keep in mind, I haven't gone running since 1990.
No lie.
I was in grade 8 and we had to run around the Ford Test Track. I was all worried about getting my fancy new Madonna Blond Ambition t-shirt sweaty, so I kind of just walked, and only ran when my lesbian gym teacher blew her whistle and cast "scary eyes" my way.
Cut to me - 19 years later:
A grizzled 32 year old with semi-decent metabolism, considering the abuse I put my body through - and a weight that has stayed more or less about 10lbs deep into my "yuck yuck" weight give or take, for the last 5 years.
Do I NEED to lose weight?
No.
Would I like to?
Well, much like the red-headed step-child who desperately wants to be loved would say:
"It would be nice."
But...it's not even really about "losing" weight for me. I'm happy with my weight.
In fact, I don't even weigh myself all that often. That's just a number.
I'd like to get into shape.
I need to build up some muscle, burn a little flab and whip myself into a strapping young 30-something.
I've tried watching what I eat.
What I eat is not the problem.
I eat 16 servings of fruits and veggies a day - most of them raw vegetables.
I eat no meats, hardly have any cholesterol intake - and the fats I do eat are good fats - like cashew, avocado - or essential oils.
I take a B12 vitamin.
I drink green tea.
I eat only whole grain breads, rice pastas, corn pastas, sweet potatoes - and I watch my starches and carbs.
I don't eat any cheese or dairy, for the most part.
The "dairy" I do eat - is usually a soy derivative and I even watch that.
Too much soy makes guys grow titties.
Pre-pubescent girls, take note. Not that any pre-pubescent girls read this.
At least I hope not.
Dear god.
"Lawsuit!"
Kidding. I'm drifting now.
It's the working out thing. I walk quite a bit, but walking just isn't cutting it.
The gym. Let's face it: I hate getting sweaty in closed quarters with people I don't know.
Many of my friends run - and they swear by it.
But I wasn't really comfortable with running in public. I'm not a runner.
I'm not even athletic.
I don't know what kind of posture I carry - or what spots jiggle and bounce or shake, like jelly.
And I'm self-centered.
Not in an "I'm so great," kind of way.
More of a paranoid "They're all looking at me and they're all going to point and laugh at me," - that kind of way.
Yup. I always think all eyes are on me, judging me - even though they are not.
It's just how I am.
So, I decided NOT to run in my neighbourhood, because lord knows I'd bump into every single person I know in the entire world on the way. It would be painful for me, I'd hate it.
So I chose a secluded spot, where few people would go at 8:50pm on a Monday night.
Oddly enough - it was The Ford Test Track. The last spot I ran - 19 full years ago.
Trippy.
I loaded up my mp3 player with Liz Phair, Jane's Addiction and L7 - and started walking.
"Five minutes walking, 1 minute running - alternate to start and build up on it," My Dad told me.
I walked.
Five minutes.
And then...as if in slow motion, I raised my knees, lowered my head and began to trot.
The trot morphed into a jog.
My head held high, my back arched, my feet pushing against the pavement, my arms swinging and curled.
Perfect form.
I was running.
"I run now," I thought to myself.
I pictured myself with calves - carved out of iron, a flat stomach, zero love handles - perhaps biceps would grow, as if by magic.
I made a mental note to buy a nice, good pair of running shoes to put some bounce in my step. Perhaps a new water bottle - and some jogging shorts.
My breathing sped up, my heart beat increased...I was moving.
1 minute and 30 seconds.
I stopped, although I could have gone on.
I walked, my body buzzing. I felt great.
"I run, I'm a runner," I said to myself - and I imagined ways I could work that into every day conversation.
"What are you doing tonight, Dan?" someone at work might ask.
"Me? Oh not much. You know ...probably go for my run and then pick up groceries."
"Oh, you run?" They'd ask.
"Every single night," I'd say, with a manly confidence that only a jock can possess.
Or perhaps a friend would call me.
"Hey Dan...you wanna come out - we're all going for some beers on a patio.."
"Ooh," I'd say. "I'm gonna have to meet you there. I have to go for my run."
"Oh that's right," they'd reply - a mixture of envy and disappointment in their voice: "I should have known...you're always running."
My five minutes of walking was up, and I decided to pick up the pace again.
My Airwalks lifted and fell, my knees rising and pushing - and I was off.
Running.
I saw a woman coming my way - towards me - walking her dog.
I kept in stride, kept my breathing going...
She nodded at me, and I nodded back.
We spoke no words, but our eye contact said everything.
"Nice form," she was probably thinking.
"Thank you," I replied. "Just out for my nightly run. No gyms for me. No way!. I'm a runner. I run. Certainly is a nice night for a run."
And it was. Beautiful.
I made it a full 2 minus, 30 seconds. Sweat had broken out, but in a good way.
I broke back into a walk.
I looked around, the sun setting...it was gorgeous.
Again - time to run.
I picked it up - my calves burning the slightest bit.
I decided to push myself this time. Really go for it.
Test the limits and boundaries.
See what this grizzled 32 year old body was capable of.
All alone...just me and nature and the cement. Running.
It was like I had a whole new lease on life, my health.
Then - I turned the bend, and and to my horror - found myself face to face with a group of jocks.
Shattered.
I stopped dead, startled.
Awkward.
They all had nice gym shorts and fitted athletic-cut t-shirts.
Rippled bulging arms and the kind of calves that come with years of sports and training.
I felt like a bag of bones, held together by some lard and maybe a bit of white glue, the kind that doesn't stick very well.
I was furious. Fuming mad.
They were going to ruin everything.
Don't muscle heads have gyms to go to?
Or don't they hang out in garages or perhaps prison yards - lifting weights and grunting?
Shooting steroids in a gym?
Muscle heads don't come to the Ford Test Track on a Monday night.
This was MY turf. My running space.
I've always been intimidated by other guys, because I am so anti-athletic and insecure.
I hated gym class - even got out of it in high school because I am blind in one eye.
My guidance counselor said I had to take an extra arts credit, instead of gym. He suggested a drama class.
"If you insist," I said, a small smile on my lips.
I like exercising alone, away from everyone.
But running, in front of people?
A 55 year old dog walking lady, I can take.
A group of 22 year old jocks who could run circles around me, roll me up into a ball and shoot me through a basket ball net - no.
No way.
They probably knew all the right forms, the right postures, the right stretches.
I was an amateur - and they'd see RIGHT through it, no matter how many L7 songs were on my mp3 player, no matter what fancy gym shorts or shoes I bought.
I pretended to tie my shoe - and continued running, I paused my mp3 player as I passed them - in case they were going to say anything about me. I wanted to be prepared.
I wanted to hear it.
"That guy can't run!" one might say.
"Who does he think he is, running?" the other would snicker.
"Hey buddy," they'd cat call. "Ballerina class was 2 hours ago, ya missed it!"
Then they'd all laugh - as I'd jog on, tears streaming down my face.
Of course, this didn't happen.
They didn't even notice me.
Go figure. Bastards.
I ran, my head held high - for a solid five minutes.
Then I saw a bat fly by.
Not a bird.
A bat.
Then something hit me in the head.
I swatted.
Then another bat swooped dangerously low to my face.
I felt something else swoosh by my head.
I wacked the side of my head with my hand, probably looking like a maniac inflicting self-punishment to himself from afar.
I must have looked ridiculous to that group of guys.
but I couldn't help it.
I felt something on the other side of my head.
I swatted again.
Then the other side.
Slapped the back of my neck.
I ducked quickly as I saw a bat, dive bombing me.
I was under attack. And the boys were seeing it all.
And I ran.
Ran as fast as I could to my car, my calves burning, my heart pounding in my chest - out of adrenaline and fear of rabies and bat bites.
I got in my car and sat, heaving and wheezing.
But I felt fantastic.
And I could have kept going...but I got freaked out.
So, I ran.
I ran because it's what I do when I'm scared or when I'm in a situation that I want to get out of quickly.
And when I need to be - I'm good. I'm fast. I'm quick. I'm steady.
So - day one.
That was it.
I started running.
And who knew?
"I run."
"I'm a runner."