What do you do when you're trying to get back into the spirit of Christmas?

Lights.

I hung Christmas lights.

This is what I did.

Then I played a board game.

I then went out for coffee.

I was then quite tired from all the stress and am thinking about bed.

Sorry if I missed any of you. I will be back next week.

I have often wondered where the desire to do what I do comes from. I write in my little books, I share my photos with the world, and I write on my blog. But where does this all come from? Where is this desire (for myself) spring from? What virtual well is it all from?

Oh, wait, just watch the video and you'll have all the answers. Good night all.

Wow. 

August, huh?

Has it been that long?

I suppose you could call me lazy but I do have an excuse. I haven't felt, well, chatty. There have been a tonne of things going on in the background of my world that have distracted me terribly. Sadly, I can't get into them right now as things are playing out (where is Spock when I need him) and I would rather remain somewhat mute on the topic of family. I will say this: I am embarassed by it all and quite shocked. Enough said for now.

At the end of the day, it doesn't really matter, I suppose. It doesn't change the fact that my writer's block is going strong and, frankly, pissing me off. I wish there was something I could do that would make it all better. I was talking about it the other day with some friends and someone pointed out that they sensed I as in a state of mourning. 

"Mourning?" I said.

"Yah, things are going sideways in your family life and it isn't playing out quite how you anticipated." They said.

I guess they are right. That stuff I can't really go into the details of is distracting me. I am getting through the days and having some moments or clarity but - dammit - I can't seem to get it into gear. Writing this post is helping but why can't I get it all over and done with and get on with my personal life. My work life is fine and I am getting through the work and making stuff rock and roll but, jeeze, I get home and I just don't want to deal with the rest of it.

Anyway.

I am going to leave it at that and try and write something tomorrow. There are many things that have passed me by that I would have talked about and writting my own two cents on but - again with the damn distractions and lack of mental energy. I hate Western life. It would have been so much easier to have just lived on a farm in the middle of Australia. Or so Baz would have me believe.

Until tomorrow...

I am thirty-eight. It has taken me a few days to get this post out. I don't know why but I suspect it is because I feel like I should have something profound to say. Sadly, I don't have any words of wisdom that I can think of. At the very least, I can say that I am not yet 40 years of age.

I never really thought much about the aging process until a few years ago. I don't feel any "older" and I certainly don't behave any older. One thing I will note is that in more recent months, I have felt a case of the "mundanes" settling in over my life. I hear this is common right before a "big zero" year. I didn't realize it would be common for me. That is something the younger kids would say, isn't it?

"I didn't think it would happen to me. I don't think I am that old."

Ah, well. I am sorry that I don't have any words that will make me seem smarter or less-that-dumb. I guess this year will be a great year but I just don't know why yet. What have I on the burner? Many things. I just need the time to make them all happen. This time next year will be very different.

I have been writing about death quite a bit lately. I have even been writing about death in posts that I didn't think were about death. Upon re-reading them and a good friend pointing it out, it appears my mind has been quite busy thinking about it - without my permission! I am finding it quite distracting and am ready to move on and think about other things now. I just returned from a "celebration of life" and it was very touching and not "death-centric". It was very much about what happens during life and how to remember those moments.

At one point, a video slideshow was played and the song Time of Your Life was played. I have heard this song a number of times before but in the context of the day, it had new meaning. I love moments like that.

Another turning point;
a fork stuck in the road.

Time grabs you by the wrist;
directs you where to go.

So make the best of this test
and don't ask why.

It's not a question
but a lesson learned in time.

It's something unpredictable
but in the end it's right.
I hope you had the time of your life.

So take the photographs
and still frames in your mind.

Hang it on a shelf
In good health and good time.

Tattoos of memories
and dead skin on trial.

For what it's worth,
it was worth all the while.

It's something unpredictable
but in the end it's right.
I hope you had the time of your life.

(music break)

It's something unpredictable
but in the end it's right.
I hope you had the time of your life.

It's something unpredictable
but in the end it's right.
I hope you had the time of your life.

I will also send a shout out to PenMachine.com who held a Living Wake the other day. I really wished I could have attended but my schedule didn't let me. I hope it went well and it was as positive an experience as I had today.

There has been far too much death in my life over the last couple of years. I have lost both family and friends to disease and tragedy and I tend not to mention it on my own web site. I have mentioned celebrities passing away but that is about it. I am unsure why I do this. It is quite possible that I don't because I like to keep the blog "light". After a bit of soul searching over the last week, I think I am ready to break my rule: don't get overly personal. It is a stupid rule but it is one that I have maintained throughout the life time of this web site. Perhaps it comes from the "blogger/employer" phase of the blogogsphere but, hell, I have been my own employer for the last six years. I am sure that if I was a little personal on my own web site that I would be able to forgive myself.

I think it began back in 2002 or 2003. A relative of mine that runs a web site called Birley.org (a web site of my family tree) had contacted me to find out about his great-great uncle (at least, that is what I recall). According to what he had on record, his great uncle had passed away in Victoria, BC around 1914. The reason he wanted my assistance was to determine if a rumour true. A rumour had started floating around that his uncle had committed suicide and his aging mother was very concerned. Fortunately for us, it has been well documented and we discovered he had died in his late 20s from an infection that had developed post-surgery. It was a sad tale but it put the rumour to. I sought out his grave and located it in Ross Bay Cemetary and that was that.

Over the years since, the reality of death never really left my mind. I felt like I was realizing that there were "fewer days ahead than there are behind". I kept remembering Captain Picard's line from the film Generations (which, in its own way, was about moving on, loss, and aging) where he says:

"It is our mortality that defines us."

For some reason, that line became more to me than some dialogue in a Star Trek movie. Ever since those early years of the 21st century, I have been trying to live better, less stressed, and with a care to what it meant to be alive and to be a human. Sadly, it seems to have bitten me in the ass once or twice where I was taken advantage of in business or in life because I made assuptions that other people think the same way. I try to take notice of important things that should mean more than they do. These days it is about revolution in the Middle East but, hey, the iPad 2 is coming out in a week or so. I don't know what I am saying. I am trying to form a thought by writing it out in a blog post and, I apologize, if it seems like I am scattered. The truth is, I am. I don't think that anyone can really comprehend this existence we live in. What I am trying to do in my head is make it all fit. We live in a time with great technological revolution and social connections while the simplest things like death can make it all go away in an instant. For those who have died in Libya, for example, they no longer will contemplate these things.

Anyway, I am trying to formlate this thought so that it makes sense and I am really having tough time saying what I really want to say. I suppose all I am wanting to mention is that I miss those who have passed on. By my count, I have had six close deaths over the last two years. Sounds incredibly selfish to put it that way but it is how my brain is sorting this information.

To give this post some meaning, a lesson can be gleaned from this for any bloggers out there. Not all blog posts need to have a beginning, middle, and an end. It is perfectly honest and acceptable to start, get lost, and try to find your way back. There are times with topics like this when it is fine that nothing makes sense. For myself, I have some important and selfish reactions going on in my head about death and the situations in parts of the world I have never been to. These thoughts are colliding together and fighting for dominance, cluttering my words in the process. Maybe it will make sense to some but, really, all I really want to say is that I miss those who are gone and I wish they were still here. It fucking sucks to have lost them and I hate death when he comes to visit once too often.

I can't help but think that the ultimate adventure awaits us, though. I picture death being able to do a few cool things: haunt your friends, spy on any girl's locker room, travel the universe at unlimited speeds, and finally have enough time to read everything ever written.

There you go - a scattered blog post for a Wednesday. But, you know what, it is my blog post and if you don't like it, come back tomorrow, I will try to write something better. I have some family to entertain.

I have a wide variety of interests.  Just ask anyone I know and they will tell you with no uncertainty what-so-ever: "Shane is interested in that?"  I think about obsecure stuff all the time and I am sure I think far too much for any healthy human being.  I think about things I am sure no other human being on the planet (or just those I interact with regularly) would consider to be situations that could exist in this time-continuum. Which, of course, begs the question: what am thinking about today?

I will happily tell you with no uncertainty what-so-ever: do you ever think about Norman Fell?

If you're around my age and took a moment or two to catch an episode of Three's Company, you would know him.  Remember Mr. Roper?  That is Norman Fell.  The guy (according to the little information I can find) was a rock solid kind of guy.  He was able to match wits with Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin while having the comedic funny bone to pull off the thankless job that was Mr. Roper.  I suppose it wasn't that thankless since his Mr. Roper role landed him a two season stint on The Ropers, but who is really counting.  So, what the heck am I talking about a guy who passed on just over twelve years ago?  The Rat Pack, that is what. 

I am sure I have written about this before but, over the last year, I have been reading a lot of autobiographies and a few biographies.  I have read about dancers, singers, actors, writers and, more recently, been interested in learning about the Rat Pack.  It all started when I checked out a couple of autobiographies from the library (Alan Alda and Jerry Lewis, I think) and, for some reason, I loved reading them so much I haven't been able to stop.  I have become somewhat addicted to this style of writing.  What I think I love about these books is the fact I am reading about a real person (or as real as they will let themselves be).  What surprises me is the "six degrees" that seems to happen.  So and so met up with another so and so and - bam - they did a flick together or recorded a duet.  There is really nothing suprising about this but we're talking about famous people here.  God, I am starting to sound like those stupid shows like Entertainment Tonight.  Moving on.

As I was saying, I am reading about the exploits of the Rat Pack.  I mean, people, this is the frakin' Rat Pack!  If I were around in those days and involved in Hollywood I would have killed a guy to have been granted membership even if it were for a few moments!  And this is what brought me to the subject of Norman Fell.  According to a couple of things I have read, the guy was a member.  If they had some kind of lapel pin he would be one of the few who wore one.  And, well, there you have it.  Pointless trivia for your day. 

I guess what is driving me to learn about "famous people" is a desire to understand what will I leave behind when I go.  Dean Martin left behind music, a voice, and an impression that he screwed Jerry Lewis over after ten years together on the Hollywood circuit.  William Shatner appears to be completely oblivious to the resounding fact that his co-stars (during the 1960s, anyway) didn't like him at all.  (With the exception of Nimoy.)  They thought he was a jerk and I believe the one who the most annoyed was Walter Koenig.  If you ever get to reading his book, this first five pages are like an advertisement for how much of an asshole Shatner was. 

Anyway, I wonder what people will say about me fifty years down the road.  Anything nice?  Drivel about how they didn't really know me?  I know what they are saying about me currently and you can all take a full mouthful of some dirty cheddar.  I am kidding, of course - or am I?

I am rambling, as I normally do, but I can't escape this feeling that I have been reading the words written by people I could have run into on the street and it has touched me somehow.  A kind of time travel has been experienced (to paraphrase Stephen King from his book On Writing).  Norman Fell was just a guy who worked as an actor and became known as that role and, for some reason, it left a lasting impression on me.  It just makes me wonder about my lasting impression - on the ladies.  (Cough.)  I meant to say, "on the world".  I have a bunch of thoughts colliding at the moment and, as usual, it is quite late and I really should head off to bed.

Strange little tid-bit about Mr. Fell.  The guy was a tail gunner in World War II.  Of all the places in a B-17 (or whatever plane he served in), I would not want to be in the tail.  You've got the guys on the side guns and in the ball turret underneath - but the tail.  It is like wearing a bullseye on your forehead.