Political Limericks

In the wee hours of Tuesday morning I awoke. For some reason, a few of my thoughts turned to Jamaica and the latest political scandal to plague the current administration. It's not that I was having a nightmare from which I woke up. No, the nightmare is already being played out in real life in Ja. It's just that...I think I'd retired much earlier than usual the night before.

Anyway, the thoughts began to morph into limericks! And moved from one topic to another. As I figured they would not leave me alone until they were penned, I turned on the light and put pen to paper. An hour later, the last of the early morning creative juices were poured into last one.

Later that day, I tweeted them. Well, bounced them off sis, @MizDurie, first. Then, I put them on the TL.

(Articles on the 381-megawatt energy plant/EWI/PNP brouhaha may be found here, here and here. And, of course, there's Google.)

Here, as in below, are the limericks from the wee hours of that morning:

There once was a Min'ster named Paulwell

Slicker than Squealer in Orwell

Of EWI

Cried, Jah know, I try!

Stop trying, and go! Mr. Paulwell

********

Paulwell told CG, do over!

Change ur mind, we do need the funds, sir

The CG said no

I can't do it bro

I'd be a scoundrel of highest order.

********

Corruption we're fighting too long

We're *on it* PM sang the song

Then came Azan

With his marketing plan

Seems she spelled *lovin it* wrong.

********

Prime Minister P SimpsonMiller

What's there to be said about her?

She hails from Woodhall

I guess #thatisall

Oh! And she'll fly out at dinner.

********

The legacy of the Prime Min'ster

Will be the awards on her dresser

Female PM and such

Hm. Not too much

Some people in foreign do rate her.

********

Career politicians galore

Their ideas we've heard all before

Take folks for a spin

Then they put them back in

It seems we can take much more.

********

In other news, Ontario's election will be held on June 12, 2014. The platforms are slowly taking shape. Can't say much more on that. Really.

Decisions. Decisions. 

Claudia

www.cyopro.com

www.twitter.com/cyopro

My Carlen

My Carlen turned Seven yesterday. When we first "met", he was Four years old. I saw his little self looking up at me - so to speak - on that November afternoon after church. The head of Compassion Canada had visited Harvest Oakville, and our pastor had made the call for us to consider sponsoring a child through that organization. I think the focus was initially on children in Ecuador. But, closer to the end of the service, we were told that by the end of the other two services that weekend, all the children from Ecuador had got sponsors! But there were many more from other parts of the world.

As I perused the pictures and profiles on the table in the lobby that Sunday, I was not even sure what I was looking for. Each child was in need. The younger the child, the longer the $41/month commitment. A sponsor is in it until the child turns 18. Still, when I saw Carlen, from Kijiwetanga, Kenya, I kinda knew. I'd finally decided to come up with a few criteria, or I'd have spent the entire afternoon deciding. So, I wanted someone born in April - we could kinda celebrate birthdays together. And, I wanted a little boy. Carlen actually reminded me of another little boy I used to babysit years ago in Jamaica. There he was, standing with his hands by his side, decked out in a school uniform and looking up at me. His card said he was born April 27, 2007. Nice. :-)

Even though it's not an adoption, I still think of him as my Carlen. I must've mentioned in a post several months ago how touched I am by the endearment, "My Claudia". Once upon a time, someone called me that. "How is my Claudia?" He'd said. I liked it. A lot. And it still makes me smile when I remember it. I don't even think he'd ever watched the movie, "Water for Elephants". I dunno. It was from that that I'd heard the term, "My Marlena," and it had kinda given me goosebumps. So, when I'd heard, "My Claudia," you can imagine my warm delight.

Anyway, he's my Carlen. After all, his letters (via translator) sometimes say, "Your son says hi." Isn't that beautiful? The first time I read that in one of his letters, tears came. I had had a very bad day. I dragged myself to the mailbox and found the letter waiting. When I read that line, I just melted. Remember the movie, About Schmidt? He writes that last letter to his sponsored child, Ndugu. Then there's that scene - the one where he reads the letter from Ndugu. Yeah. It was kinda like that. Except that I don't write spilling my guts to Carlen about life's moments of disappointments. Too funny. It's always good to hear from him - what he's been up to at school; at home; at church, and with his friends and family. Lots about his favourite this and that. How he'd like to be a pilot when he grows up...

On one occasion when I'd sent extra funds for his birthday, he sent back saying he was thankful for the money. He had used it to buy a school uniform and a few school supplies. I found myself talking to him out loud asking why he hadn't bought himself a nice present. But, I guess, those were "nice presents".

You know what is a nice present? Realizing you make a real and positive difference in someone's life. That was my birthday present from him.

Happy Birthday, my Carlen!



Claudia
www.cyopro.com
www.twitter.com/cyopro

Of Birthday, Change and Human Kindness

For a few moments I toyed with the idea of not writing a post today. I usually write in the evenings, unless it's one of those that take several days to write. Those have been few. Related to that, and, as I must've mentioned before, I don't write and schedule publications. About 95% of what gets here is fresh off the mind and heart. But, the mind is tired tonight. The heart is fine. Heh heh. Thanks for wondering.

Being on vacation does that to one, I guess. Being on vacation and celebrating a birthday is something else. And, being on vacation, celebrating a birthday and observing Easter, is an even more potent mix for successfully dividing one's attention. Plus, I'm hot. I mean, it's tropical here so the temps... You know what I mean.

My birthday was a couple of days ago. I had a truly delightful day. As I told an acquaintance, I love having birthdays. Consider the alternative, eh? :-) I'm thankful my life was spared to see another one. And, it's always nice to spend time with family and friends in celebration.

I was reviewing something earlier today and came across a gem I'd transcribed. It was a quote by a Grade 6 student in the USA, and it went stteo: As you get older, everything will seem different. But nothing will change, except you. I promise. I really like that quote. It's true, isn't it? The world was here before you got here. It presents its usual offerings. We use - or misuse - its resources. And we perceive what it becomes, and how, as our needs and desires change over time. The principle of existence (love), and the issues related to the human condition, make us see things in different ways as we grow.

That's one of the perks of being a writer. It is always nice to look back at previous writings and see how your views or passions have changed. Fun project in compare/contrast.

There was an unusual and nice moment on B-day. After a lovely lunch, as we were leaving the restaurant, the doorman, who had learnt a few minutes before that I was celebrating my birthday, offered to sing for me. I graciously accepted his offer. He cleared his throat a few times, then proceeded to charm me with a delightful rendition of the Happy Birthday song, while walking to the car. We topped it off with a hug! Human kindness overflowing...

I'm looking forward to a great year! I can hardly wait to use the "Hummunuh! Hummunuh!" a girlfriend of mine insisted I use when that time comes. Okay. You mightn't get it now. But, if...when the time does come, I'll go into more detail. In the meantime, let's just consider this a placeholder of sorts.

Let the new year begin!



Claudia
www.cyopro.com
www.twitter.com/cyopro

Getting it off my chest: The uncovered cough

It is no secret. I have quirks. As do you. No, I’m not seeking company –as one might do in, say, misery. See, misery loves company. I don’t suffer from these quirks. Au contraire! (I’m also learning French.) I’m okay with them; have come to terms with them.  I wouldn’t say I enjoy them, per se. The familiarity of them overcompensates for any measure of discomfort – or misery. I’m good. I’m good.

My quirks (yes, I own them) are not without reason. That is my story. Things have to make sense – except when they don’t. Let that one simmer for a bit.

I’m coming from the “favour ain’t fair” and “God works in mysterious ways” angles. Yes. Two angles – at once.

Now, let’s take a look at a few of these quirks, and see whether you can relate. And, if you simply can’t, whether you can, at the very least, understand.  If you can do neither, I’m happy you dropped by and so on and so forth.

The Uncovered Cough

Everybody coughs. Whether it be because of a cold, or allergies – as one does whatever it takes to scratch one’s throat – or an anti-choking reflex. Everybody coughs. What everybody does not do, apparently, is cover their mouths while coughing. I find it challenging to think of a personal habit that annoys me more. The GO Train is where I encounter most of these transgressions. People sitting next to me; across from me; two seats down the aisle. It doesn’t matter. As soon as this abominable act is carried out, I cringe. I don’t have “a mini heart attack” as someone tweeted after observing a woman’s reaction on the train the other day. And, again, I state for the record, it wasn’t me. That tweet was not about me. Though it kinda, sorta coulda been. Let’s move on. I cringe. And, not only do I cringe, the power strip on my cough-radar subsequently operates at maximum efficiency. I listen out for the next uncovered cough and when – not if – it happens (because, you know, those things come in twos and threes, if not an outright fit) I execute Plan A.

Plan A – The Exit

I leave the area. Whether it be that car of the train or the platform as we wait for the next train, I skidaddle on my saddle. (Reference to the artist formerly known on Snoop Dogg in the role of rap artist Murderous in Mr. Monk and the Rapper.) If it occurs as I walk down (or up) Bay Street, well, one hears a cough behind one, one does not look around to ascertain whether it’s uncovered. One immediately walks a little faster.

Plan B – The Ask

Plan B is put into action if I am in proximity to the offender, and no other seat is available. I turn to the individual or tap the uncouth being  on the shoulder and politely ask, “Could you cover your mouth when you cough, please?” Now, I already know the answer to that. Yes. Yes, they could. On one occasion, the persona non grata who occupied the seat next to me simply stopped coughing. I thought, I should patent this! Beat the profits out of Dayquil. Just. Like. That. Heyyy!  On another occasion, the person was sitting in a row in front of me. I leaned in through the space between the head rests and asked her to cover. She didn’t glance back at me in acknowledgement. Meh. She did, however, cover the next few times. Mission accomplished.

Now, I know I’d mentioned taking a look at a few of my quirks, but, given the extensive treatment of the uncovered cough, I’d rather not get into the others. For example, I’d rather not get into the utterly disgusting habit some folks have of spitting on sidewalks, leaving others to look at that gross mass of phlegm. Ugh! Who are these people? I can’t believe we breathe the same air! (Mr. Monk and the Astronaut)

Neither will I get into the fact that the hangers have to face in.

And the DVDs have to be shelved in alphabetical order.

And the tweets have to be without grammatical or spelling errors. Have you seen the placement of some apostrophes, lately? Oh, the humanity!

And the dishes must be placed in the sink. In the sink. For the love of sanity, not on the counter. In the sink. Just saying. No. As a matter of fact, I’m not #justsaying. They should be placed in the sink.

Of course, there's a reason for all these...preferences. I have to live with myself.

Claudia

www.cyopro.com

www.twitter.com/cyopro

"If He Loves You"

I was tempted to share my latest poem - written yesterday! But, I've shared it with only one person so far. And, it does need a bit of editing, I think. Plus, an additional stanza has been engraving itself in my brain. So, there's that.

The poetry work-in-progress is almost through. I've had it edited. There is a category I'm hoping to fill with poems that speak of happiness and loving and being loved in return. Grabbing the closest piece of paper I could find yesterday, I hurriedly penned such a one. They do not come by very often, so I dared not lose the moment. Turns out I'm pretty excited about getting those words down on paper or some electronic device. They carry with them a measure of...hope, if you will.

And, hope is a good thing. :-)

This one is entitled, "If He Loves You". It's from that batch I wrote in April 2012 when I took off for vacation and ditched the playwriting contest. But, I had to keep myself writing, so I went on an "A Poem A Day" adventure! Glad I did. I produced some that took the focus off of myself for a bit.

And that was a good thing. :-)

If He Loves You

I overheard someone at work today

Talking about a fight they'd had

Sounds like it was pretty bad

Between she and her lover,

And, like any other love story

It had the element of surprise

I saw it in her eyes

She blamed his mother.

Seemed he found it hard

To give what due to each.

That one was out of my reach.

I smiled because, well, to be honest

I did not know what to say.

Not that she was talking to me

But I felt hard pressed to duly

Inform her it would be okay.

There was something inside that said

Tell her it gets better

It looks bad but it doesn't matter

If he loves you - and he does - 

Then you two will work it out.

But something else spoke even louder

Above the din of my despair

So, why didn't you guys work it out?

- Dnafcnatgada

Claudia

www.cyopro.com

www.twitter.com/cyopro

Stretched Minds: Beyond the Zapruder Film

"Man's mind, once stretched by a new idea, never regains its original dimensions."
- Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr.

As I prepared for this post, I reflected on whether the course I had alluded to in the previous post, had in fact been Ethics in Media. I revisited the Comms site of my alma mater, and I am now wont to think the course in question was Media and Society. That's what happens when you have the same professor for more than one course - and several years have passed since graduation. :-)

What I won't forget, though, is the impact that that morning's class had on me. The new information to which we had become privy made me stop and think. Suddenly, and almost involuntarily, I began to reflect on the shape and texture of the world around us. How long did it take for us to get from there to here? And, what had we given up in the process of being stretched in mind; in expectation?

The clip Prof showed us that morning is what has been popularly known as the Zapruder Film. It depicts the assassination of President John F. Kennedy - in the moment! The Zapruder Film is the most famous - and, I think, the most graphic - film of the shooting. Apparently, Abraham Zapruder, a member of the public, had managed to get a sweet spot to test out his newly acquired home-movie camera. He wished to record the President's motorcade as it made its way through Dealey Plaza in Dallas, Texas, on that fateful day, November 22, 1969. He had it rolling as the motorcade came by and, well, he managed to get that moment caught on film. Of course, he realized afterward the value of what he had in his possession. I do not recall the intricacies of how it came to move from his hands to media - after a bit of negotiating - but, do feel free to look it up. Here's a good starting point.

After sharing the story and the clip, Prof facilitated a discussion that raised comments on what was appropriate for television (in the USA) at that time; how much of a shock was it to people's sensibilities; looking at where we are these days with scenes of a graphic nature on television and in movies; how did we get from there to here? One student chimed in: "That happened." That's all he said, "That happened."

I think it took a few seconds for that profound statement to sink in before we each did a quick reflection - well, I did - trying to think of a time before that present when we were not inundated with violence on TV and in movies. And, what was more, when we were put off by it.

I did a quick search... Yes, it was quick. After all, I am no longer obligated to turn in papers for this course! :-) This should be enough to get you going, should you wish to do some more reading about whether there is a correlation between that 1969 broadcast assassination, and what we have progressively come to tolerate - as entertainment, to boot! So, yes, I did a quick search to get an idea of what the mind set was re violence on American television pre-November 1969 and post-November 1969. I found a few posts of note:

• The American TV series The Wild, Wild West, aired from September 17, 1965 to April 4, 1969. It was popular and earned high ratings, but was cancelled as a concession to Congress over television violence.
• The Surgeon General's Scientific Advisory Committee on Television and Social Behavior was announced on June 3, 1969. This came as a result of "15 years of 'consistently disturbing' findings about the violent content of children's programs." Makes you wonder what was the nature of the "violent content of children's programs" at the time (and 15 years prior to that) that gave rise to "consistently disturbing" findings.
• There's a site that lists, in the compiler's opinion, the 30 most violent movies (published 2012). I'm still not sure how 300 and Kill Bill Vol. 1&2 did not make the list. But, as I said, opinion. Of the list, one of the closest to 1969 was "Salo", released in Italy, January 1976 - noting: "an almost universal banning greeted Salo in the beginning." It was released in the UK in 2000 and in Australia in 2012. The other closest to 1969 was "Shogun's Sadism", released in Japan in 1976. 

Other factors, unexplored here, and, likely, in class that day, have had a measure of impact on how violence on American TV and in film has made progressively bolder moves over the years. It is my opinion, however, that the sensibilities of many became less and less jarred after - and because of - that pivotal moment.

Do we even give a second thought now to movies like 300? 300 - Rise of an Empire? (Can you tell?) Kill Bill? Speaking of Kill Bill. A then-friend and I went to see Kill Bill Vol. 1 in Rochester, NY, shortly after it came out. I could not sit through it. It was simply too much. Sometime after that, I saw 300. Well, sometime after that, I had the pleasure of watching Kill Bill - Vols 1 and 2 - sans flinching.

The mind had indeed been stretched.



Claudia
www.cyopro.com
www.twitter.com/cyopro

Stretched Minds: A Twitter Example

"Man's mind, once stretched by a new idea, never regains its original dimensions."
- Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr.

That thought came to mind a few days ago. I came across a story in a newspaper about a man from Texas, who'd set out to break the new record Ellen DeGeneres set for most retweets (RTs). Ellen's tweet, posted on March 2, 2014 (Oscar night) - and now sitting at 3,352,469 - has far surpassed the record set by Barack Obama's tweet of November 6, 2012, now sitting at 781,484. I'm not sure what the Obama RT count was when Ellen tweeted. For a while, it had stood at over 700,000. Hardly matters now. She wanted to break the record of most RTs - and she shattered it.

What struck me about the Texan's story is not that he was, in Internet speak, a "virtual nobody" who decided to pull this little stunt using a selfie of himself and his two dogs. (The fact is, there have been other tweeps who've set out to break the record, but their tweets have not gained as much traction.) No, it is that the Terry Shipman tweet has so far received 179,138 RTs - mine included. (Go get 'em, Terry! :-)) It is that so many people have "bothered" to give their support on this fun journey. Sure, there may be a few bots, but I'm pretty sure the majority of those RTs are from real folks.

But, what really struck me? The fact that, after Ellen's 3.35M RTs, a 180K RT count hardly seems like a big deal. Those numbers are usually enjoyed - for need of a ... nope, I don't think I need a better word - by celebrities with follower counts in the millions. After this, figures like that, even though they mightn't come along very often, will not carry that awe as they might have before. Pre-Obama tweet, they were jaw-dropping. Post-Obama tweet, meh! Post-Ellen tweet, yawn...

However, this 180K RT figure for someone who was not "Internet famous" (or any other kind of famous, it seems), is a big deal - at this point in Twitter time. So, on the one hand, the numbers aren't so shocking anymore. But, on the other hand, they kinda are, for a "regular guy".

Now - and this is very important - just in case this is a hoax by the likes of, say, late night show host, Jimmy Kimmel, the point would still maintain its validity about how the mind, once it gets stretched to accommodate a new reality, cannot shrink to its previous dimension as though it had never had that new experience. Once something new comes along, whatever similar follows in its wake does not have that shock/novel value. Celebrities/Entrepreneurs would agree - hence the constant re-invention of self/service. These days, people get bored very easily. They want the next "next best thing" the next minute.

Look around; listen. There are so many things that we accept as the norm these days, that were, at first, shocking to our sensibilities. Have we become jaded? In a sense? In more than one sense? Next time, I'll write about a more serious and common example of the way our minds have been stretched. That realization struck during a class on Ethics in Media years ago. Certainly, for me, that was an A-ha! moment.



Claudia
www.cyopro.com
www.twitter.com/cyopro