Sunday, July 27, 2008

Satruday Scribes - July 26, 2008

Bob’s Midnight Vigil

Bob sat cross legged and uncomfortable on the pesticide-free lawn, feeling bits of soft clover brushing against his bare legs. It was midnight, and SHE was in there, somewhere. Playing the piano? No, he couldn’t hear the tinkling sounds of her beautiful fingers, making chords on the ivory keys. Was she baking cookies? Bob imagined the wonderful smell of cookies wafting through the house, welcoming visitors in. But that was a remote possibility. Who baked cookies at midnight? Bob couldn’t see enough light in the house to suggest that she was that busy in tasks of lovely feminine domestication. Bob loved the idea of HER baking cookies. But that wasn’t the reality, and Bob knew how important it was to stick with reality. Dreaming up falsehoods was the quick route to madness, and Bob fought the terror of this unreality with all his might. So what was SHE doing? Bob’s mentally skimmed through a list of possibilities: reading a romantic nineteenth-century novel? Puzzling through a difficult crossword under the light beams of a 100 watt bulb? Maybe she owned a slim laptop and hovered under its luminescent glow. Bob suddenly wished that he was own of those bright people, those intuitive types who only had to close their eyes, and give mental focus to gain knowledge. Bob had read about these types with second sight. If only..... Seconds and then hours slowly ticked by. All the houselights were now out and SHE had gone to bed. There had been no sweet glimpse of HER from outside, and there wouldn’t be tonight. He had to give up the good fight until tomorrow, when he might have better luck. Tomorrow, he’d come more prepared. Yes, he’d write a poem, and whisper it gently to her like a devoted Romeo. Bob comforted himself with this thought as he sat up and left his lonely midnight vigil. Yes. He would write a poem.

Saturday, July 19, 2008

Saturday Scribes - July 19, 2008


It was becoming increasingly obvious that luck was not on my side. I sat watching my DVD set of “The Partridge Family: Seasons 1 and 2,” wondering how I was to convince Lady Luck to join forces with me. What would my plan be? A simple, straight-forward, direct on the mark plan that I could walk towards with clear goals and strategies? Or some intricate Byzantine plan that eluded others and possibly myself?

I watched episode after episode. Danny has to get his tonsils out. Shirley goes back to school. Keith has a crush on a woman’s libber. Lori gets braces and can’t sing. I notice that Shirley assumes greater importance as the seasons progress. She’s the star, not teen-idol Keith, not cute and pretty Lori, and not even red-haired, freckle-face Danny. Shirley Partridge, stunning in appearance and pivotal to each and every plot-line in the tale (You notice that I do not even mention “the other two.” Yes, there are two other children in the Partridge family, but I can’t recall their names and they play such a limited role in the family that it’s easy to forget them altogether)


I decided to probe a little further into Shirley’s character. It likely would not help my own situation, but it would be a worthwhile distraction- perhaps. What was my problem? Trying to find work in an increasingly dog-eat-dog job climate. Yes, teachers can be nasty if their livelihood is at stake. They’re not nasty to the kids(hopefully) but there’s some pretty serious competition happening in the teaching profession. And I’m not that competitive or mean-spirited. Honestly, however, it’s pretty irrelevant what attitude I take. The “I give up” is comparable to the “I’ll fight em in the trenches” which is equivalent to the “slow and steady wins the race.” It doesn’t matter which approach I take. Seniority, trustee-friends, superintendent friends, etc. the usual nepotism seen in the corporate world is in full swing. So, I need luck - serendipity appearing in my life suddenly and happily.


How does Shirley Partridge relate to my dilemma? Is she an emblem of Lady Luck? Let’s have a good close look at her. First of all, she’s got a great voice. I remember my mother telling me once that Shirley Jones is a serious singer. You wouldn’t know this fact if you listened to the canned pop music she normally sings on the show. But yesterday, (or the episode I watched yesterday) she sang a song of the Whale, taking her place in the 1970's environmental moment, which was then called the “ecology movement.” Here, Shirley Partridge sings her heart out, gives a lot of vocal support - nice breathing, Shirley - and let’s it all out. It’s a good episode, full of corniness and fakery, with one beautiful shining moment of sincerity when Shirley sings for the whale. If only she wouldn’t wear the family velvety outfit (it’s the red outfits this time). It doesn’t fit in with the whale theme, somehow.


Have we found, then, an image of Lady Luck? Unfortunately not yet. We have some sincerity. We have a speaker for the whales - an apologist for ecology, at least for the 23 minutes of camera-time she has. This is admirable enough, though it is not clear if Shirley Partridge really cares (I’m sure that Shirley Jones does).
Let’s move on. Let’s look at Shirley’s progress from season 1 into season 2. At first, Keith seems to be the star. Cute little David Cassidy. He’s the obvious shining star of the velvet-suited band singing their heart away as they ride about in the family bus. The question we might ask ourselves - is he really cute? - remains unanswered. I keep looking at him, trying to decide, but cannot disassociate him from 1970' iconography. His bell-bottoms and tapered hair are emblematic of the decade and there seems little reality to the actor or the character. As the season progresses, I lose interest in Keith. It’s the same with Lori. She’s undoubtedly cute, extremely thin, good-looking, sweet and she plays her part of romantic, idealist - and looking for a boyfriend girl-next-door, darned well. But again, she is overshadowed by two other characters. Danny and Shirley. Red-haired Danny. Danny is a star, no questions asked. He’s a strong actor - charismatic, appealing, a bit of Michael J. Fox type in Family Ties. His character is similarly materialistic, prudent and cunning. But he’s cute. Still, he’s overshadowed by the main star, Shirley Jones/Shirley Partridge.



Is she somehow emblematic for me, a candle in the wind? And here I see, not Shirley Jones, but a plaintive Elton John, sitting with his grand piano (are there candles atop his piano?) calling out for us all. Okay, who’s upstaging who now?
I’m rambling on now, like a lost zeppelin, floating in the sky. I’ve given up on Lady Lucky. After all, you make your own luck, don’t you? And who is in charge of luck - divine providence? electro-magnetic forces? I’m sure that Deepak has the answer for us all in one of his volumes that relates Vedic philosophy and contemporary physics - yes, that works.....


But back to Shirley. Forget Elton (though I think he has been known to wear velvety outfits also). As I watch Shirley through seasons one and two, I notice that she gradually blooms for us. In the opening episodes, we notice Keith, Lori and Danny. Then gradually it becomes clear the Shirley is the most interesting one, the flower that gradually blooms for us (yes, I pulled out that very, very old metaphor). Shirley moves ever so gradually to the foreground of the show that you barely notice the change. Until you realize that you are watching the show to see her. She’s the mother, and the star.


So how does this help me and my JOB search? Yes, I’m willing to work towards some awkward, uncomfortable analogy! Like Shirley, I will ever-so-gradually move from the background (jobless) into the foreground (have-a-job). It may take a while, and I may be initially overshadowed by various superstars in velvet outfits. But ultimately, I’ll bloom, I’ll shine, I’ll be able to take center stage and sing for the whale.

Saturday, July 12, 2008

Saturday Scribes July 12

Communication


I heard Sabrina knocking at the front door. I was expecting her to come around ten. We hadn’t talked in a while, and I suggested she drop by for a tea and a chat. When I opened the door, I noticed it right away. She was looking sad. You see, I’m intuitive by nature. I get hunches about people. So I knew that something was seriously wrong with Sabrina.

“Come on in.” I grabbed Sabrina’s coat, and hung it up right away. “Thanks for coming.” I hoped she wouldn’t notice what a mess the house was. I got her a tea right away. I know what type she likes. Green tea. Always green tea. It was already sitting on the stove for her. I liked being prepared.

“How’s work?” I drank a sip of the green tea. It was perfectly brewed. My cupboard was full of green tea, so it was lucky that it was Sabrina’s favourite.

“Work’s fine. I’m heading up a new project.”

“I can sympathize. I’ve been in charge of a few projects. Not heavy ones, mind you. Not too much responsibility. Lots of work though, these projects are. I remember working on one project. Boy, that was hard. I think I worked 24/7 for weeks. No breaks. It was crazy. But things get crazy like that sometimes.”

“I’m enjoying the project.”

“You say that now. But just wait! There was another project I worked on. My team was so bad. They wouldn’t work together. They were terrible listeners. Every time I had an idea, they didn’t care. They wouldn’t listen to me. Doesn’t that drive you crazy when people don’t listen to you?”

“Yes....”

“Oh God. It was so crazy. There was one guy on my team, Graham. Can you believe this. He always showed up in his denim jeans. We’re at an important business meeting, mind you, and we’re trying to impress the clients, and he shows up in blue jeans. God. What an idiot. And he talked all the time. Wouldn’t stop. Our clients went nuts. You know how I use my intuition. Well, I could tell they were pissed off about Graham. I’m a good negotiator. So I did my best. But we lost the contract. I had to have a good talk with Graham after that.”

“What were his blueprints like?”

“They were fine. Those impressed the client. He did some amazing designs. But that’s not the point. He lacked style. He lacked finesse. You know, in business, it’s people that matter. You have to learn how to deal with people. You follow the rules, you talk the talk, and you dress the part.”

“But his designs were good?” Sabrina hadn’t touched her tea. I wondered why. Maybe it was too hot. She’d drink some when it cooled off a bit.

“I told you they were fine. But that’s not the point. It’s the universal laws of business. You look after the people. The product has to be good, of course, but there are other things that are just as important.” I took a few more sips of tea. I don’t know what it is about green tea, but it always tastes great.

“And how’s Jupiter doing?” I always remember to ask about Sabrina’s dog. You see. I know how to handle people. Asking about their dog. It will put the smile on anyone’s face.

But apparently I asked the wrong question. Sabrina stood up. I could tell there were tears in her eyes (I’m extremely perceptive. I can see these things way ahead of time).

“Are you okay.”

But Sabrina was not okay. “What’s up?” I was following her out of the room. Strangely, she’d left the tea totally untouched.

“I have to go.” Sabrina grabbed her jacket and practically fled out of the house. God, what was her problem.

Of course, a few days later I found out what was wrong. Jupiter had died. Her dog was gone. Sabrina was fixated on that dog. I can imagine the heartbreak she must have been going through. Poor thing. No wonder she didn’t drink her tea. I knew the dog was sick a few weeks ago, but nobody told me that the thing was dead!

Saturday, July 05, 2008

Saturday Scribes, July 5


Driving down Warden

There’s landscape anywhere
Isn’t there?
Maybe not beautiful impressionist landscapes
Haystacks and peasants
Fields of mustard and golden sunsets

Driving down Warden
What do I see?
A landscape?
A skyscape?
Something?
Why can’t I
Remember?

Glimpses, memories come back to me...
The Shoe Company
No banks
Winners
The Salvation Army.

I’ve driven this route 3 times
This week
And I can remember
Almost nothing.

I’ll try again.

I’ll imagine I’m Picasso,
experiencing my blue period.
A BLUE Tim Horton’s complete with
BLUE drive-through
A BLUE path to a CV HIGHSCHOOL with
huge BLUE roadbumps

Sorry. It doesn’t work.
Tim Horton’s signage
(what an ugly new word)
cannot be imagined as BLUE
What colour is it, red? white?
I thought the sign was indelibly
imprinted on my brain,
But I suppose it is as impermanent as
The rest of existence.
As impermanent as a strawberry ice cream cone
Lying out on the concrete
On Warden Avenue.

I remember something now
A feeling of familiarity
Driving down Warden
Driving down certain streets in Ajax
Wide streets
Apartment buildings on the left
Arenas on the right

Hard to imagine actually trying to
Walk down these long streets
They’re not meant for walking
These long streets are not
Particularly Car friendly, either.
Too busy. Too hot.
Shoes and Tires
Rubbing Concrete

The thought makes me tired out.

Is development the culprit?
Excess development?
Should we blow the whistle?
Stop it all right now?

Driving down Warden Avenue
I finally reach my destination
Or do I?
Which is more important -
Arrival or the journey?
The glimpses of insight
We gain as we drive
Past mega store after mega store?

Maybe I need to go shopping?
I think I could use a few things......