June 20, 2006

I went to Toronto this week-end to watch my little brother get his Bachelors in Computer Science. Little did I know that upon arriving at the Ryerson theatre at 8:00am in the fucking morning, that I would be embroiled in some mega-controversy about same-sex marriage rights.

I've decided, for the record that in terms of protests, I much prefer being on the "shocked and outraged but ultimately surprised witness" end of things.

Here's what happened:

From the left - Honouring Somerville, dishonouring Ryerson

from the general middle - Ryerson Students Against Margaret Somerville

from the middle- right -How Ryerson failed Margaret Somerville

Here is a video from the CBC just to get a sense of the experience. (For those of you who know him, check out my brother turning his head.. it's in the first 11 seconds).

Basically Margaret Somerville is an Academic here at McGill who does medical ethics, but thought somewhow that it was within her purview; (because children born of same sex marriage often co me from donor parents) to oppose same sex marriage on the grounds that children have an enshrined right to know who their genetic parents are.

Since you gay daddy may not want you to know who mommy was, he shouldn't be marrying, much less having kids. I know - I call it a stretch - 'specially the rigamarole about a right to your genetic heritage. If that's really such a big deal, lets's focus on stopping war, displacement, and refugee camps for a far broader majority of the worlds population and worry less about the tiny percentage of kids born via new reproductive technologies.

Here's Somervilles argument about the same topic.

gay rights, Childers rights

I don't know, I don't hold the national research chair on ethics, but shit, don't I find her arguments specious in the extreme. Way to disguise homophobia as regard for childrens rights dude. Assuming Somerville has a point, and bio-originism is legislated, what does one do if their children, lovingly raised in a home with a bio-mom and a bio-dad turn out to be gay, and want children of their own, what do you say them?;

"Sorry sweetpea, your culture made a decsion for you, in your best interests years ago, that gay people couldn't have kids, because we think kids have a genetic right to know their birth parents. Aren't you proud of us, didn't we show foresight and tolerance?"

Not that I am saying kids shouldn't know who their birth parents are, just that - if we are going to start making limits, why limit peoples right to reproduce, or to form loving bonds in the hope of eventually reproducing together, in whatever form that takes? Why not limit the right to privacy around reproductive choices? Open up the decision-making from start to finish to the end-results (children) of that process, doesn't that make more sense?

Anyways, I am getting away from my topic which was the ceremony itself.

June 5, 2006

Family-wise, this spring we finally got our acts together to pay for perpetual care for my moms grave.

That means the grounds staff at the memorial park plant flowers every spring so we who have full schedules or live miles from the grave (This includes everyone except people who own farms outside King City) don't have to worry about making the trek to plot z39 of the Pardesh Shalom memorial gardens every week to check that the perennials are getting enough water.

At first I was pissed that they have this service. Mostly because they won't let any old someone plant flowers, it's the grounds crew or nothing. Seems a little controlling, but you can't beat the price, $3000 and it's forever.

That's ridiculously cheap when you stop to consider how long forever really is...

I am glad we're going to do this. Lately I have been feeling like my dead mom is still a pretty lively presence in my life. And she deserves a tribute every spring. Also she loved to garden so in the moments where I feel strongly that my mom is actually there at the grave as a presence, (you can blame 6 feet under or my innately supersticious nature) I picture her taking pleasure in having a well tended grave with some flowers of her own to take pride in. It's silly I guess if I really try to pin it down but that's how i feel about it.

In the two years since my mom died, I've been slowly taking notes about what has changed, and a big one, outside of the actual grieving process has been the entire families reaction to our blood-ties and intimacy.

So for example, getting this whole perpetual planting thing worked out involved a few phone calls. One to Bubi, and one to my aunt who is my mothers older sister.

Mostly it was a matter of the proper cheques being written and the proper permissions being given. Beaurocratic stuff. I hadn't heard from my aunt about the end result so I called and left a message this week-end to find out whether everything was okay.

She called back and left a message this evening and part of the message dealt with my Bubi's failing health and the fact that she'd love to hear from me more (Presumably to find out why I still haven't gotten married, we've gotten to the point that either her health is so bad, or my prospects so dim, that she requires a monthly update). Anyways;

At the end of the message my aunt said;

"Frankly my dear, your Bubi's depressed, like 9/10s of our family, I know, but still, she'd love to hear from you."

And I was like hold your xanax there Aunty R' we don't talk about our depressions we just sit around the dining room table drinking whisky in our tea cups and popping pills in the vestibule, is this a sea- change I am hearing?

If we get any more honest then we're all going to have to admit we've been in therapy for over 100 years collectively, trying to undo all the damage we've done to each other, and what would happen next? Anarchy or a family reunion I imagine.

April 3, 2006

I don't even feel like writing really I just want everyone in the loop. Lola is going blind. She tried to chase a garbage bag up a tree today. Or do what amounts to a chase for her now, since her two back legs seem to have given up the ghost. Oh yeah, and she has a bladder infection which may indicate something called Cushings disease.

The last time we spoke to the vet he actually sat down to talk to us. I am taking that as a bad sign.

I went to the bank to figure out why they had frozen all my bank accounts (it had to do with getting all my money from clients outside Quebec..) At some point during the conversation with Giselle Mangemesculottes the manager who refused to unfreeze even the Ontario cheques so I could pay for the dogs multiple blood tests and also eat, I believe I started to cry and then said in godawful french: "En fait mon chien est malade, j'ai trop sure mon carte de credit pour payer le veterinaire, en plus je peut pas acheter les nouriture! Qu'est ce que vous vont faire pour moi?"

I think the tears disarmed them and the manager left and came back and handed me three hundred dollars in cash, as if they were giving me an allowance. I told them I wasn't used to begging for my own money and biked up to the TD bank where an incredibly friendly investment counsellor named Nektarios gave me a cappucinno and agreed that the least they could of done was offer me a kleenex.

I almost wanted to date Nektarios. He laughed at all my jokes, made me feel safe and secure and had very nice hands. He also finally explained the mystery of GIC/mutual funds/ stocks and also your basic mortgage amount in about 15 minutes. I realize that this is all a ploy to get me to invest with TD, but hey, as Stevie Nicks would sing: " Tell me lies tell me sweet little lies... " Oh yeah did I mention he got me coffee.. I am such an easy touch.

At some point in our conversation, I distinctly remember saying "You are talking about people who feel like they have power over their money. I think I belong in the opposite group." He laughed really hard at that.

update

In "Everything is Illuminated" the Ukrainian tour guide Alex writes :

Mother is a humble woman. Very very humble. She toils at a small cafe one hour distance from our home. She presents food and drink to customers there, and says to me," I mount the autobus for an hour to work all day doing things I hate. You want to know why? It is for you, Alexi-stop-spleening-me! One day you will do things for me that you hate. That it what it means to be a family."

I would like to amend that quote to include. One day you will receive email forwards with pictures of puppies or boring knock-knock jokes which you hate, but you will read them anyways, that is what it means to be a family.

If my dad or my aunt read this I am totally getting disowned.

February 19, 2006

Me: So you're getting close to the day eh? Are you almost ready to go?

Dad: Yep, I went out and bought a hood today, to attach to my coat. It's a special hood for extra-cold climates. It's made to be like a moose's nozzle.

Me: A What?!

Dad; You know! A moose's nozzle - what they breath through. Why are you laughing at me?! It's a very practical hood.

I love my dad. What am I going to do when I can't call him once a week?

February 14, 2006

Dad: So did you hear 0% of baby-boomers are officially obese now.

Mir: Wow.. uh that's a lot.

Dad: It is, and it was only 19% three years ago.

mir: So we're going to be paying for your inevitable decline, is that it? You're not obese though right?

Dad: I most certainly am!

Mir: No you aren't. You just have the Family not-waist.

Dad; I better take you to see Dr.Entwhistle.

mir: Who's that?

Dad: Well, he's my doctor, tiny man, and he said; "Mr.Flink-dad I have some bad news for you - you are totally obese." and I said; "Watch what you say there little man!" -you know he's really puny and he was a little scared he said; "Oh no, no Mr.Flink-dad I wasn't trying to offend you.. It's just a medical fact."

Mir: So what, you're one of the 60% now?

Dad: Oh not me! I've always been obese, I was part of the original 19%.

Mir: What are you telling me this for?

Dad: You know even when I was 7 or 8 I was rotund. I started working around the farm when I was 12 or 13, but then when I joined the army the food was so bad I just filled right out.

Mir: you look pretty slim in those pictures with mom. Were you sucking in your gut?

Dad: Oh yes completely. You know I learned that when I was passing time with my friend, he was an ex-communicated priest you know, and one day we were standing around talking and some pretty girls walked by and when they got near us my friend went (makes sucking noise) and pulled up his stomach and I went and said; "You don't need to go and hide your belly for those girls!" quite loud. He was so embarrassed.

Mir: what was an ex-communicated priest doing trying to impress pretty girls anyways?

Dad: Well he wasn't a priest anymore.. and while he was a priest he had put on weight - they drink and eat a lot because you know..

mir: they're celibate

Dad: Yes, like friar tuck in robin hood.

mir: Gotcha.

February 1, 2006

He leaves in two and half weeks, he'll be back in June. he's going to be teaching grades 6,7,8 core curriculum.

I am both very happy for him and very sad because he'll be pretty far away and due to last years events I get kind of paro about family safety.

I would totally go visit him, but a plane ticket costs $2700 dollars.

Mostly I am happy. This is going to be an incredible experience, and yes I would bug him to start a blog about it but {gasp} there is no internet up there...
nada.
none.

He is already talking to k-net about that, but I doubt it's something taht will change before June...