Friday, August 26, 2011

Public Mourning Public Ignorance

" I do not believe that sheere suffering teaches. 
 If suffering alone taught, all the world would be wise, since everyone suffers.
 To suffering must be added mourning,
 understanding, patience, love, openness
 and the willingness to remain vulnerable."
~Joseph Addison~






Tomorrow we say good-bye to Jack Layton, who, until a short time ago was the elected leader of our country's official federal opposition. 

As you may or may not know, I'm kind of a pro when it comes to saying good-bye, especially, the formality of it all, arranging and staging funerals.  I am not a wedding/funeral junkie, but I recognize the great importance of ritual. We often tisk at over-done anything (weddings, showers,
birthday parties).  We scoff at show and pomp, but do we consider the important communal aspect of ritual?

One local GTA columnist wrote about what she (ignorantly) understands to be inappropriate mourning; "What once would have been deemed Mawkish is now considered to be perfectly appropriate" (Christie Blatchford, National Post, August 22, 2011).

The columnist scoffs at Layton's last letter to his fellow Canadian citizens as a piece of political propaganda, and at Layton for a being, "a 24/7 politician who was always on".  Clearly she thinks quite highly of herself sniffing out this more than obvious truth. Layton was a 24/7 politician who was always on. Better than some of the Conservative Cabinet Ministers who were more often "turned on" and breached security I would say.  Seriously Ms. Blatchford, do you think we need your column in a second-rate "national" news rag to point out that someone else likely helped Jack Layton write the letter? A letter which would inevitably hit the press like the historical piece of news that it in fact is?

Regardless of how orange your political stripes are, you would have had to be a cave dwelling gnome not to have known who Jack Layton was, or how important his leadership was changing the political landscape of this country. His letter read, "We can restore our good name in the world,", and yes Ms. Blatchford, as a nation we have lost that. Apathy is not globally respected. Well, not outside the padded leather walls of the old boys club where they masturbate over stock portfolios padded by dirty employment and environmental practice.

I could go on about this poorly thought-out rant by a writer who is reminiscing about her journalistic hey-day. This piece doesn't deserve any more dissection. What the column did for me was to help me realize the importance of public ritual.

Fear, anger, joy and even grief become energized and eventually dispelled much more easily when they are shared. As an individual we grieve and mourn. As a group we grieve and mourn together. Together -that's key here. As Canadians we have lost our good name in the world as we leave other nations to hang out in the wind when they need human rights advocates and collaborate to save our planet.  Through this public display of grief and mourning, we, as a nation,have shown our true colours. We will mourn together, and hopefully, celebrate that ethical piece of our identity that has been swathed by apathy.

It only takes one bad apple to make the rest of the bunch seem perfectly ripe and delicious. Thank you Christie for sharing your ignorance so we could disrobe from our  national shame that is called apathy and celebrate the gifts that have been given by a much more wise and compassionate leader.


Monday, August 15, 2011

Classmates

This is a quick post - not in the general sarcastic spirit of On The Cork, but most sincere.

My friend died yesterday. He was an MMA trainer, and one of the few "good guys". We went to school together for 9 years, and shared many moments together as most kids do.

He lived his dream, married his best friend, and died all too young at 37. This is why we should never hold back saying, " I love you". Say it every day, as often as you can.

You were a bright light Shawn Tompkins, and you will be missed.

Monday, August 01, 2011

Romance Novels: Relationship Manure

" Love is like a friendship caught on fire.
In the beginning a flame, very pretty, often hot and fierce,
but still on ly light and flickering.
As love  grows older, our hearts mature
and our love becomes as coals, deep burning and unquenchable
~Bruce Lee~
Two of my very best friends on the planet love to sneak in  time with re-runs of Little House on the Prairie.  Every woman I know cherishes her girlfriends, going to the spa, and cries in the bathtub. Despite being educated, well-travelled, and independent, we are women.

Being gentle, sympathetic, and loving being snuggled up with our head resting on our man's chest are not weaknesses. Read on dear reader, for what I have to say may surprise you, what with my reputation as the Colonel Ball Breaker in the battle of the sexes.

Last month I had an epiphany at Wal-You-Know-What. After dropping off my kiddo at ball practice I had to run an errand for more junk to clean my little home with. Dish soap in hand, I was standing, trance-like at the romance novel rack.  "How pathetic am I?", I thought to myself as I took note of my very matronly denim capris, cotton t-shirt and hair clipped up off of my neck. "Have I really been reduced to this frumpy house-cleaning mom standing at the romance novel rack?".  That wasn't the epiphany. I'm a pretty happy frumpy house cleaning mom after my professional 9-5 gig. 

The epiphany came as I stood there scanning the titles and cover shots of beautiful men and women holding one another in passionate embraces.  Two other women joined me. Both wearing denim capris and cotton tops, both with their hair clipped up off of their necks, and both clinging to bottles of dish soap.  We all wore glasses, and we were all about the same age. I was the only one not sporting a diamond and wedding band. Harlequin had us by our proverbial balls.

Until a few years ago, I had only ever ventured into the land of romance novels as a curious teenager, intrigued by heaving bosomed heroines being rescued by rippling-biceped  heroes.  At that point, I was all intellect and proud of it. No way was I, an honour student, student reporter, peer counsellor and die hard human rights advocate going to be so weak as to actually feel better because I had a man in my life. Boys were up there with experimenting with new eyeshadow colour and thong underwear.

It was my dear friend Jan who reintroduced me to the genre years later. I was (am) a very serious professional, who read non-fiction, highly intellectual books and articles about very important things.  I did not, repeat, NOT have time for poorly written, formula romance novels about women and men who live happily ever after. I mean come on.  If I were ever to snag my rippling-biceped hero, surely he would want his intellectual equal. I could not be caught with this drivel littering my coffee table.

Passages like the following used to make me roll my eyes and close the book; "Despite her reservations about falling for such an obvious bachelor, her breath caught in her throat as soon as she saw him standing there, soaking wet, on the other side of her screen door, " and, " Dammit! He knew that she was stubborn, but he couldn't resist being away from her for another moment let alone another night. He swallowed his pride, as he pulled into the parking spot just outside her door.  He was going to do whatever it took to make sure she knew she was the only woman that he loved."

What plays out in these romance novels, as most of us are aware, is that there are a couple of people who meet, and against all odds live happily ever after in our imaginations after we close the back cover and snuggle into our pillows for the night.

So, you might ask what on earth could be beneficial reading such unabashed smut? First of all, you get both perspectives - male and female - without the flavour of bias you get in conversation with friends.  Besides recounting our daily who, what, where, when and why, girls often spend a lot of their time involved in discussion about women not understanding men and men not understanding women. Or, more accurately, about men being insensitive and not being emotionally available.  Men would be wise to flip through some of these little gems to glean insight into the female psyche.

There's a lot of skepticism and even cynicism out there about the value of relationships.  Who needs a man in their life/ or a woman in their life when they are strong, independent and capable all on their very own?  Isn't monogamy and marriage an outdated necessity now?  If these things are true, why do 99% of all single people I know wish that they could find exactly the right partner? Like it or not, everyone wants to be desired, and someone else's number one.

Where can we find better, more affirming myths to encourage our dream of finding and making it work with Mr/Mrs Right?

Besides the obvious part of the formula where two people meet and get together against all odds, each person has an internal conflict happening as well. For example, a determined woman to be successful on her own does not want to ask for help.  The man may not want to get involved helping the woman because he can't bear disappointing someone else again. Despite their fears, and individual journey, the two overcome their internal conflicts because the power of love is greater than all of that ego stuff.

We read about women who are insecure about their appearance, of getting hurt (again), who have children they want to protect, and feel misunderstood. We read about men who are insecure about their sexual prowess, of getting hurt (again), who have children they want to protect, and want only to please and not disappoint their woman. We're all a bit insecure. We've all been hurt. Trust is painfully hard when you've been betrayed.  Reading about other people who have the same warts and still make it work just makes us feel good.

Besides that, love is supposed to be patient and kind. Romance novels give us great examples of patience, kindness, and the value of letting off steam with friends while cultivating this patience and kindness.  It's ok to be gentle ladies, and desire having someone to talk to and rest your head against after a hard day. It doesn't make you less strong, less intelligent, or less independent. It just makes you human.

I like to believe that a man's idea of romance and lasting love is as simple as the, "Bring Beer and Show Up Naked" myth but I'm not that much of a ball breaker. Not quite. I do think that it would benefit all men to pick up a few romance novels. Go ahead guys - I dare you.