Flashback

Flashback - 2002. We knew each other nearly 4 yrs that year. Well, it doesn't seem like our conversations have gotten older since. Maybe just life's chances with each chance. And a chance adds up to less than 1 day and not even 1 minute...and maybe for only 1 second. And these seconds tick fast like a heartbeat.

Clarity

" What you don't have you don't need it now, 

What you don't know, you can feel it somehow..." 

People who keep it real, keep you young.

I woke up New Year’s Day on a sofa with an epiphany.

Suddenly, I was seeing so clearly.

It was just a physical or mental act (not sure which) of looking far out. No different than how a quarterback sees down a field to go for a 90 yard throw. A Hail Mary.

In spite of all the noise in front, a path just opens.   

I was suddenly seeing past the womb of my world.

* * *

In spite of all the creativity to find inspiring truth, I was stuck. There was no clarity to breakthrough. Knowledge changed nothing.  Surroundings kept you in one place.

There’s a loud crowd of confusion in front. And suddenly, you’re focused on it. No leadership to leave.  A lonely mind that knows too much, suddenly says too little and does even less. 

Enveloped in mixed signals, circumstantial needs, concerns, or egos starving for satisfaction, a surrendering philosophy prevailed.

* * * 

Time changed  life like melting ice. 

* * *

Sometimes there’s a political or philosophical bent. Beating beaten paths or beating something to death.  Templated on road maps. 

Then there’s your own womb from which it can be hard to see past. Or escape.

There’s a past that keeps you there, defining your status quo.

There are hardships making barriers seem most visible daily. Handcuffed to the present.

Sometimes it feels like the world is caving in. Punched in the gut.  Breathe.

Adversity. What is still done counts, defining the meaningful.

* * *

Clarity is more important than independence.

The dream is past this womb.

Seeing past it – just the physical act of doing it -  made me look in places I never saw in the womb.

I reached out and people reached back to pull me out.

The crowd of confusion was still there. But suddenly, the horizon of illumination was clear. The noise no longer mattered. Far out connectivity began. 

A New World manifested itself. 

Illumination of Space 

The Android Dream of Electric Sheep

Homage to Philip K Dyck 

who predicted this in 1968

In recent years, “virtual self-esteem” has grown dramatically in a world where nourishment at work and at home are in steep decline.

A virtual  “like” has become the most popular human activity on the planet—even more popular than real love.

Reality can’t compete with the speed and volume of virtual responses.  

Text Messaging is more frequent than hearing a real voice. Facebook instantly notifies you when someone liked you (virtually), became a friend (virtually) or added a comment to recognize what you did (virtually). 

* * *

Foursquare makes you feel like a virtual mayor of some place, giving you badges of honor like a Boy Scout or Girl Guide for doing nothing but check-in. 

One badge you need to stitch on after you do a good deed. 

The other you can just drink enough beer and become Mayor.  

* * *

Virtual self-esteem has driven addiction to social media. 

To be sure, there are meaningful posts and comments, but social media does not measure meaning or depth. 

It is more about the status of what you are doing – which can be as banal as saying how cold the weather is or complaining about something free like social media. 

It’s recognition for literally doing nothing. Free anytime, free anywhere. 

This is especially enticing for the lonely and recognition starved in today’s fissured world where one third are working at home alone.

How many views, how many friends, how many followers, how many notifications, how many mayorships, how many comments to notice you in the feed...it's how social media measures. But it’s a strange way to measure oneself.

Substance doesn’t matter in a virtual world. People complain more online about the meaningless than face to face. 

“Speed is the most important feature.”  People want frustration recognized fast. People want recognition fast. 

Feelings today are expressed more virtually today than in person.

It’s a democratic system. But even the brightest minds don’t spend every waking hour doing something substantial. Most hours are spent otherwise. And this is reflected democratically in social media. But what happens to us when we intake everyone’s fast thoughts virtually every hour? If TV can be called the “idiot box” what is social media that is “idiot proof”?

Social media is ultimately a system of rewarding people for doing very little. “The path of least resistance.”

Even the art of instantly making a good picture or giving you status for the shortest possible thoughts are instantly rewarding. You’re published!  

Social media rewards you for something that  ironically will also be instantaneously forgotten tomorrow or even in the next hour. Do you remember what you wrote 2 days ago?

Permanence is not a factor in virtual socialization.

This is driven partly by the artifice of internet metrics. The brightest digital inventors are heavily swayed to get the most eyeballs, unique visitors, and views in the fastest way possible without asking people to do much.  

Heavy lifting is a cardinal sin in the internet world. And so inventors “dumb down” what you need to do. You don’t even have to pay personal attention to anyone you invite to an event or cause, there is automated spam.

This sounds like a scathing critique but I was tasked with looking honestly at how people get attached to social media. Specifically, I was looking at how social media scales in popularity most--independent from what's meaningful in a virtual world.

Instant recognition is a key factor in virtual popularity. Giving a virtual “like” makes someone’s day more than anything else in frequency. I wouldn’t even know what is second most.

The most popular human act in the world. 

And today someone's suing believing they own the rights to this act. 

In HR, it’s no secret that recognition is more important than money. It’s also why titles like VP, of this and that, duplicate redundantly or don’t actually say what you do. It’s for recognition.

There is good of course in social media beyond virtual recognition.

There are clearly great benefits in long distance interaction, connections made, mobilization, awareness, daily dialogue, information, creativity and sharing moments. Revolutions have even started online.

It’s also free. 

But is it just me?

I see friends everyday online, but suddenly years pass without having seen many friends in person. Though I want to in person, I feel I have online. Before virtual connectivity, I think I made a greater effort to see people  more to stay connected.  I had a physical address book for visits. Now I don’t even have addresses. People have also gotten far more busier to meet in person. I no longer know anyone who isn’t  busy.

Today I am in search of scaling greater meaning. And tonight I’m going out.

originally titled Illuminations of Virtual Self-Esteem 

Crossing At The Light

Maybe we’re just a couple of cars

Crossing at the light

One look and that’s it

Off into the night

Remembered when I didn’t know a thing

When there were open skies

The road was eternal

No graves for dreams

I was wanted in so many places

But only wanted to be one

The morning air was crisp

But the night got hazy

Suddenly I woke up this morning

And saw no tomorrow

People I knew had come

And gone

The heart was anchored

By some knowledge past

The sails flattened

No wind in the sound

The ship was moored

Like a permanent restaurant

Until health code officials

Would take it away

These places, these faces

Were once dreams come true

Today a Paradise Lost

Waiting for a new dream

To take its place

Fire fire burning bright

Embers floating into the night

Melted Ice

When I was in high school, in art class, I sculpted action scenes on ice influenced by Ken Danby.  Recently, I remembered that inspiration as I mapped where  historical goalie masks were worn. 

Hockey was this cool. 

I was one of those fans who memorized stats on hockey cards. 

Ken Dryden's hockey stick traveled from the Montreal Forum by train to my street on Sunset Avenue in Windsor, Ontario, when I was 4, after a game. And that is how I became a Montreal Canadiens fan.  

While playing defense, I learned from Bobby Orr whose hockey card was the first I ever had. I followed photos of his book showing his moves and Gordie Howe's book on how to use your elbows in the corners. Going to high school by bus, I'd stop in every morning at my neighbor's house. My friend's Dad later became the first referee inducted into the Hockey Hall of Fame. And this is a true story. Matt Pavelich was the one who picked up Bobby Orr's puck for that famous flying leap goal and was the only one on the ice not photographed.

Religiously I watched hockey twice a week on TV  - and even listened to games on Radio Canada. I went so far as to learn French (my best grade) to do so. I even wrote speeches in French about hockey. You probably could not even name something else I loved more in life.

Sure there were tough times.  Just ask any Toronto Maple Leafs fan and all the owners they've seen since 1967. The last time they won a Cup, television was still in black and white. And City Hall was at a different location for the Stanley Cup parade. 

And that's nothing for tough times. Just ask any Alan Eagleson client. Just ask Bobby Hull, Bobby Orr, Darryl Sittler or Ted Lindsay.  

Sometimes it got so tough, the game no longer mattered.

Just ask Sheldon Kennedy or boys who worked as ushers at Maple Leaf Gardens. Just ask Theo Fleury. 

There have been  parents wanting their kids to be so perfect nothing else mattered.  

We also know every sudden death on or off ice. It's one of the few places in life where almost every fan knows every car accident, heart attack, skate cut, plane crash or cancer battle involving someone in hockey. Now that's tight-knit.    

* * * 

Through thick and thin, my love for hockey continued strong through all of this. Hockey  gave me something, nothing else did. 

I still arrived at the rink at 5 am before 6 am practice for extra ice time.  I was not a Wayne Gretzky fan but admired his work ethic to skate 3 hours daily on his hockey pond in Brantford. 

Later in life, next to me at a sports bar on Robson Street in Vancouver, I heard a man speak in French on his cell phone and saw scars on his face. I asked him, "Did you play hockey." He replied, "I used to." He was watching Dallas vs Detroit on TV. I then replied, "I used to pretend to be you...Whatever happened to Dan Daoust?"  Habs captain Guy Carbonneau, who taught me how to block shots,  replied, "That was a long time ago."  I then said, "I still remember your last goal."  I re-enacted it at the bar scoring while on one knee on the floor. OT!  He got a kick out of it. That's what dreams are made of. 

Later on in life, I even worked with an NHL team to launch the 1st Pay-Per-View hockey game online. The fans stayed on for four hours!  We added interviews from the Legends of Hockey. They were glued to the screen.    

* * *

I am not sure when NHL hockey eroded its relationship with me. 

Was the loss of Winnipeg or Quebec the start? Was it The Cup not coming back to Canada (20 years and counting). Leafs fans will also remember how they got cheated on Wayne Gretzky's high stick on Doug Gilmour  the last time the Cup was in Canada (1993).  It was like the NHL wanted to usher a win for Los Angeles. 

Was it bankers and sponsors dominating the rinks? Or expansion to the desert and Gulf of Mexico? Perhaps it was expansion into summer games for a winter sport. Or loyalty getting traded every year for money. 

The word "rival" (synonym "passion") 

has been lost from the hockey dictionary. 

Was it the 2004 strike, with the Cup staying two years in the Gulf of Mexico to remind us what hockey had become: For snowbirds, not ice men. This all added up to one thing. I didn't miss 2012 at all because of the strike. 

Perhaps even climate change causing the slow extinction of outdoor hockey rinks in Southern Ontario had something to do with it. 

Today Gretzky would have nowhere to skate outside everyday.  Hockey talent will erode as a result. 

This is where Gary Bettman is wrong to compare the NHL to other sports. It isn't. 

I've played all major sports and followed them hard as a fan.  To love hockey, we need outdoor ice, and winter magic. We need players and owners who reflect the fresh snowfall and "bring a lunch pail to work" to quote one former NHL GM.  We want to smell hot chocolate not money at the rink.

* * *

The players and owners don't get it. Fans don't care about your multi-million dollar salaries, TV eyeballs or skyrocketing ticket and concession stand prices. The hardcore fans don't care about hockey for status.   Stats yes, status no. We are not bankers or sponsors.  We care about something else.  The Game.

If you were to ask me a decade ago if losing interest in NHL hockey  was in the cards for me, I'd say absolutely not. Are you crazy?  I learned nearly every small town in Canada through hockey because that town had a team. And each player had a dream of being in the NHL. 

So what happened? Maybe I don't matter. I'm getting older. New fans don't remember the past.  I'm not a banker or free agent. I'm not a sponsor, rink ad or video game developer. I'm not even a hockey equipment rep.  I just loved hockey more than anything else in the world. 

When the Chicago Blackhawks traveled on bus to Gravenhurst, Ontario to surprise a grieving GM at his Dad's funeral,  immediately I thought, it's because of this team magic, they will win the Cup. And they did. Then business took over. Players got traded and who knows if they'll ever win in our lifetime again. The Cup is now in Hollywood.  



This is a true story. One day  goalie Andrew Raycroft then on Toronto Maple Leafs came into our sports bar in Toronto's Little Italy after another season over. I told him you gotta sign this card for good luck. It's for my friend Leo, a hardcore Leafs fan. He saw the Leafs win the Cup in 1967. Raycroft then says, Hal Gill must sign it. Gill signed it too and then got traded immediately and won the Cup next season!  

Just before my brother died of cancer at 29,  I recited the play-by-play of the Leafs beating Boston 8-2,  March 6, 2008, just like we did as kids.  It seemed like fantasy as they had never won so handily since...well, we couldn't remember.  I'll never forget his look of excitement and disbelief. "Leafs won, 8-2?!!!" Some of his last words in life. Leo and I earlier at our sports bar  had danced as if they had won the Cup. My brother would leave life on a high note.  The Leafs actually came through! I had driven through a stormy winter from New York to Toronto to make it back on time to see the game.

In 2006, we had a project to photograph true blue hockey fans at Air Canada Centre.  You'd figure it would be very easy to find a hardcore Toronto Maple Leafs fan going to a game.  The photographers took three times longer  to get the job done.  Two-thirds of the fans walking from Union Station to the game wore suits. No hockey jerseys. And this really sums it up. I don't enjoy going to a Canadian bank. 

I don't want to be a Toronto Maple Leafs fan watching the NHL's richest team only care about money and not care about losing. But I do love hockey. Take me to any amateur rink, any day of the week, and you can see my joy. Pure unadulterated joy. 

For The People Who Make The Soul Bigger

Weber Brothers at Great Hall, Toronto

Shai Peer, Ryan Weber, Sam Weber, Marcus Browne

For the people who make the soul bigger, who invite wall-to-wall exuberant people. For the people who give you so much more faith to drive further and farther. How cool is going into the Arctic with a band. 

Near Bowmanville 7am after leaving Peterborough 

For the ones who make your year every year.  For the Café in the Greenwich Village that has been family for so many years. Marcus Mumford agrees (this is home). For the music that leaves no questions asked. We believe. 

Kate Sland - Lamb's Club, NYC

Eric Frandsen - Caffe Vivaldi, NYC

For people who are still here after so many miles.

Jason Skiendziel at Scarlett Jane Home 

(Cindy Doire, Andrea Ramolo) 

Andrea Ramolo, Not My Dog, Toronto

For the new friend who’d I’d end up shovelin’ snow for before year-end. A friend is someone you can lose a bet to. 

Cameron House - Devin Cuddy Band

(Nichol Robertson, Devon James, Devin Cuddy) 

For the music she made so startling and the man who needed running shoes to tour with Neil Young and the Sadies. For the woman who didn’t know she’d be at the North Pole with a band in a few weeks…and some total stranger who sat in the picture who felt like we were his friends. That’s what music does.

Maia Davies, Bryan Boake, Anna Ruddick (top)

Loft 404 after party  in Toronto (bottom)

A dedication to all the good people out there and my late brother. Always. My Dad passed away. Ya I've had some downs with the ups. You helped me out.

Trish Robb Band at Pig's Ear (Peterborough), Peterborough Home, & Horseshoe Tavern

Chris Culgin (mandolin), Mike Duffield (drums), Travis Blodgett (upright)

"I could go east, I could go west, It was all up to me to decide." Here's to the new noise, the creatively exciting, the friendships that keep it rollin'.

Paul Reddick and Weber Brothers, Not MyDog, Toronto 

Stone Sparrows, Horseshoe Tavern

Oliver Ward, Meghan Patrick

Kayla Howran, Cameron House 

  

This year I saw friends both in the North Pole and the South Pole. A woman who meant so much, who lost half her family, even planted a flag for me far from anywhere I'd ever been. 

That was a tough 572 full-time days and only the inspiration of the stories kept me going.

Jump2Spot

For the names that are like magic words who can play 3 more shows after the show is over. What did he put in that guitar?

Sam Weber, Great Hall , Toronto

Melissa Payne and Trish Robb 

4am, Peterborough home

 That must have been  something, she had a lot of joy…and it keeps us waiting for the next show.

Sarah Burton, The Press Club, Toronto 

Melissa Payne (fiddle) at Pig's Ear (Peterborough) and Horseshoe Tavern (Toronto)

Trish Robb arms waving (2x)

You are home, I see it every night.

The many great moments. The people who make me turn to bigger chapters. 

For the East Village woman who made magic happen every Tuesday for many years in a basement theater.  For the voice who stopped a room and held great potlucks. For the man who brought me to Bruce Springsteen. You're not Going Down...For the woman who sung about going up the Elevator.  

And I still follow you Piano Player as you stretch your wings around the world.  For the one with the vibe, to see where the magic can go. 

For the woman who disappeared, leaving loved ones behind. We still search for you. 

For the Irish woman who wrote 3250 miles and the family that shows courage to be who you are. For the one who called everyday when everyday counted. For the Facetimer, who saw more, just to get it right.  For the ones who helped the harvest. And to the woman who lined up with me. You are dear.  Happy New Year.

Anna Ruddick (bass) with Joshua Cockerill and Greg Cockerill 

Dakota Tavern, Toronto 

Melissa Payne 

Horseshoe Tavern, Toronto 

This speech was inspired by people and photos auto-picked by Facebook's “See Your 2012 Year in Review.” There was an original status report with names that came with these lines. I added a few more, and I'm sure I could add more. And thanks K and D for understandin'. There's bigger in the world. 

I Howl

Who were “yo-yo-ed” around by people who didn't really know

But got paid to tell you

Who were taught  to believe as if you’d go along

Like it was an accepted medicine

Whose bad ideas achieved no goals

A placebo for you in the meantime

Who was diagnosed with TB for six months

And died of cancer

Who kept on saying yes, just to please you

But kept on doing no

Who took 7 months to open a bank account

Listening to a policy never made

Who made more rules everyday, new rules, unfinished 
To punish the minority, to punish the majority

Who took leave, but told no one

Just to keep in the loop

Who asked you to validate, validate – show us

With theories that have never come true

Who wanted numbers, numbers, number

Projections that show no map

Who gave bad instructions to fill in the space

When there was no map

Who took 2 years of our lives telling us what to do

When it takes 4 years to make something great

Who mostly had no answers 

But had a template 

Who was going along with a number in line

Unwaited, waiting to be served

Who took 16 hours, or 10 days, to get a refund

Spending more on gas

Who took 10 hours, after 10 years of loyalty,

To redeem  points for loyalty

Whose 3000 days of groceries, 80 days around the world, 
And drives going the distance, across the country, 20 times,

Got “clawed back” for loyallty

Who took 1 million dollars that was not theirs

But told themselves it was true

I slept in today and decided to write in pencil

I Howl

You turned me into something else