What's important is that we, as social animals, stop our ceaseless motion for a while and spend some time thinking about our lives, our world, our accomplishments, our failures, our hopes, dreams, and fears, and try to make some sort of plan to learn from both our triumphs and our disasters.
As we think about the beginning of a new (calendar) year and as we're bombarded with (and busy creating) our own 'best [and worst] of' lists for the year that's ending, I find myself thinking at this time of year about what really matters.
The illustration for this blog post is a print done by one of my oldest friends, Barb Symons. I met her when I was 19 and working in a bookstore. That was the year I read 300 books. Oh to have that kind of energy again - because lest you think I did nothing but work from 9 to 5 and read, I'll just point out that I worked pretty much every hour the store was open (including showing up on most of my days off, making it a 60-hour work week), partied heartily at least four nights a week, and was seeing someone at the time.
We have kept in touch sporadically throughout the years, and I am thrilled that I have been able to buy a couple of her best paintings. I'm even more thrilled that I finally got around to giving them the frames they deserve, despite the conundrum of having to pay almost as much for decent frames as one does for the art itself.
I spent this Christmas in Calgary with my cousin who has always been like a brother to me, and despite the horrific journey (I do know better than to travel at Christmas time), I will always be glad I did so. The wonderful thing about family is that it continues to expand, not only through the usual reproductive means, but also by marriage. I have acquired a whole new set of cousins with wonderfully diverse skill sets and personalities: nursing, flying, painting, fitness experts, and of course, several more musicians.
Since it took me more than 28 hours to get from Vancouver to Calgary and about 50 hours to get back, I missed seeing my friend Allen Gibson while in Alberta. I had taken a printout of my seminar, Social Media for Luddites, with me to give to and discuss with Allen. I'll have to email or print out another copy for him when we finally get together in Vancouver in mid-January. I gave it instead to my cousin, and had the pleasure not only of setting up a blog for his band, but of getting a follow-up phone call from him asking me to explain the difference between a widget and an application.
I think my explanation was about as convincing as my assertion that Einstein had invented the lightbulb. My familial reputation as one of the smart ones is on the decline, I'm afraid. Hopefully what I'm losing in that category is outpaced by gains I'm making in the 'one of the funny ones' category. Sigh. Still, it made for some good debate about whether Edison was a real prick or whether he was, rather, one of those managers who has the good sense to surround himself with the best and the brightest (no pun intended).
There was a lightbulb theme to this Christmas, as my cousin good-humouredly responded when addressed as 'The Green Bastard,' a Trailer Park Boys reference I didn't quite get, not having memorized every episode. My new cousins by marriage hail from Nova Scotia, and must therefore be excused for not acknowledging the superiority of the Monty Python crew. :) The Ottawa contingent of the family demonstrated a certain lack of physical grace as we were responsible for several clean-ups on aisle three: first when coffee sprayed all over the front hallway as we attempted to get out of the house, and then when an old fluorescent light for the laundry room was stored somewhere it shouldn't have been. Kudos to Mary for breaking one of the old bulbs rather than one of the new ones, which had to be exchanged as they were too short - that was clever, and it was also stellar of you to spend part of Christmas Eve vacuuming up its remains so no one got cut - that can't have been fun, even for someone who likes to clean.
I was touched by my second cousin's tracking the progress of my flight(s) from Vancouver to Calgary and by my new cousin, Mike's, expertise when my escape from Calgary/return to Vancouver went awry. He was able to explain the mysteries of the airport landing protocols in a way that made sense. I was also touched by the helpfulness of the Australian couple I met at the Calgary airport who were on the same flight to Vancouver as me. That was the one that took off, got to the BC border, turned back, circled the Calgary airport, landed, sat around for a while, and was then cancelled when the Vancouver airport was closed. I got more information from fellow passengers about what the hell was going on than I did from the airline, and there will be a blog post on the No Spin PR site about why companies need crisis communications plans more now than ever.
The Australian couple helped me find the airline number so I could do my bit to ease congestion in the line up to rebook a flight back to Vancouver. It was sweltering in the airport by this point, and I selfishly wanted to spend my extra time in Calgary with my family, not in a line up. I would like to think that if I am ever travelling with that much luggage, that great a distance (since they'd been skiing at Fernie over Christmas, were going to spend some time in Vancouver, and then head back to Oz), and with two children, that I could be as gracious, lively, and amusing as they were, but I think it's highly unlikely.
I loved the woman's suggestion that the Telus store was missing a huge business opportunity by not letting folks in the mile-long line up access the internet to rebook their flights. I felt amazingly handicapped with only a cell phone, having decided to have a low-tech Christmas and leave the laptop at home. It was a wacky time at Canadian airports. I didn't tell my fellow passengers about Air Canada's having held passengers on a Toronto-Vancouver flight hostage on the plane for 24 hours just before Christmas until after they let us off our plane - discretion still is the better part of valour, and I knew it was better to frame that discussion in terms of our having made a lucky escape rather than fear mongering while still on the plane, whose air rather quickly became stuffy in the half hour or so we spent on it after our surprising return to Calgary.
I was also completely charmed by the warm welcome I received from new cousin Heather, a Nikon girl who nonetheless not only gave her sister a Canon lens for her birthday (which falls on Christmas Day), but also tackled the dreaded Canon Rebel XT manual when Error Message 05 showed up on Mary's camera. Outnumbered as she was 2:1 by Canon women, she made a valiant attempt to search the index. In yet another absurdity in the quest for information, Heather looked up 'troubleshooting' in the manual and found nothing. Not sure why or how I thought to look up 'error messages' instead, but there were many moments of hilarity when it turned out the answer was 'turn the camera off, then turn it on again.' I was also greatly amused to see that the error messages listed were 01, 03, 04, 05, 06, and 99 - I guess if you get error messages 02 or 07-98, you're just plain out of luck. Just in case though, try turning the camera off and on again. :)
This year, we decided to do a fun but complicated one-present gift exchange that goes by various names (I was introduced to it by Heather as a Chinese gift exchange, but in talking to a First Nations friend it turns out there's an aboriginal version that involves dice as well - I doubt we could have managed that one). We had all agreed to buy/recycle/regift one present, maximum value $25. We then picked numbers and chose a gift, and had the right to choose someone else's gift (once). It was hilarious to see a group of so-called adults participate in this game.
My cousin and I started off the cheating by showing each other the presents we'd bought several days before Christmas (is blood really thicker than everything else? Or do old habits just die hard?). I know he spent considerably more than $25, and I also know he bought three presents, not one. Ahem. I had cheated too, of course, since the gorgeous little Bill Reid print of two copper frogs had cost more than $25 (although not a LOT more). Reluctant though I was to part with it, it was the perfect gift, and it was fun to watch the vigour with which various people tried to get their hands on it.
I'm not sure why I went for the biggest and most swellegantly wrapped present (I'll have to remember that green garbage bag wrapping technique, Ashley), but I was delighted with my foot spa and hope it wends its way to Vancouver one of these years (I was not about to try to take it on the plane after my home-made port got confiscated on my first attempt to get out of Calgary and I got a little lecture on the size of my plastic bag - by the time we got to the 'your foundation needs to go in the liquids bag' I was yelling, but it's a powder foundation! and brandishing the brush at the male security guard, asking him if he wanted to try some. This had the unusual effect of making him feel sorry for me, and he actually offered to leave his post to try to track down my friends so he could at least return the port to someone who could drink it rather than just get dumped).
I was also touched by second cousin Brendon's present, a copy of the Harrison Ford film The Mosquito Coast, based on Paul Theroux's book. I think that one ended up in the right hands, after hearing about the trip to Thailand. When the fair-skinned get sunburned, the medical professionals get going. :)
To friends and family, real and virtual, met and yet-to-meet, my wish for 2009:
May this year be one of hope, love, laughter, and, as always, spirited debate.
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