Category: character

Re: Owl

The owl has several attributes that show up in my personality. Firstly, the animal’s patience is astounding. I’ve seen one in a tree, shoulders hunched up, barely moving, perched on a branch waiting, waiting, and waiting some more. Their feathers are so soft looking, almost furry, and patterned to make themselves blend into their surroundings. Owls are the quietest birds, with wings specially designed to make almost no sound so that wary mice don’t even know they’re around until it’s too late. Owls seem secretive to me. All knowing! They aren’t for show. They mean business, have places to go, and a need to survive.

When I was an elementary school teacher, I would often discuss animals to start the children on a creative train of thought. A simple question like, “If you could be another creature, which would you be?” might occupy an entire afternoon of discussion, art, and even environmental studies. In those days I refused to choose my own kinship animal, because I felt connected to so many interesting species who share the planet with me. Disney films and author A.A. Milne probably directed my lasting amusement with owls. I can relate to Winnie the Pooh’s friend Owl when he pontificates and, also, when he goofs by spelling his own name as Wol!

I chose a coded version of the word Owl for my social media avatar name, wh0n0z, which graphically shows two owl-like eyes. I like the immediate reference to intelligence (folks can be know-it-alls and still err in judgement). Also implied with this pseudonym is the shrugging attitude of ‘Who really knows eh?’ (an introvert’s go-to). Or, more aggressively, “I’m slightly bored so leave me alone.” Owl people may get a bad rep for being picky, having their head in the clouds or appearing seriously snobbish. I think of my owl persona as though it were a horoscope sign. Owls are curious. Ergo, my favourite question is How, which is a delightful anagram of Who, which is the sound that owls in cartoons make.

Even a wise old owl like me can show contradictions. When I served on several organizational Boards I used to be called a stealth director because I preferred to be quietly working behind the scenes, making contacts and connections that may have been considered controversial. You see I didn’t want to draw early attention to myself until the cat was in the bag (or the mouse was in my beak, so to speak).

The cliché for the owl archetype was probably set in ancient Grecian times since the goddess Athena advertised the Value of Wisdom. She even had a pet owl. In the 1981 film Clash of the Titans, Perseus is assisted by a mechanized version of Athena’s owl named Bubo. This FX creature was actually an animatron that didn’t always work convincingly in its scenes with the real life actors. And its name suggests something clownish, which is great if you consider that no one’s character can be one dimensional. In other words; A bird is more than just feathers.

Re: Follow

I had a Following on Twitter. My Followers viewed my writing with enough interest or affection to become my online tribe. It was as easy as clicking on a digital button. Likewise, I followed a group of authors, journalists, thinkers and prophets on that social media site. I left to find a more hospitable climate. My principles prevented me from supporting the marketplace Twitter had become when billionaire Elon Musk bought the company and renamed it X.

Lemmings supposedly follow so blindly that they herd together and jump off cliffs. It’s a myth. I hear my mom’s voice asking me if I’d do something awful just because everyone else was doing it. For whatever reason, someplace along my timeline, I decided not to be a follower of fashion. I became a loner, since group dynamics invoked a fear reaction, I avoided clusters. If I see that someone has gained a certain popularity, my first response will be repulsion. That magnetic contrariness might indicate a psychological recognition, perhaps a certain jealousy even. I’ll say to a bossy person, “You can’t tell me where to go! I’ll tell you where to go!”

When I have a need to decide something I like my thoughts to flow along a logical path without interruption. I want to be led to a conclusion by my own choosing. This doesn’t mean I’m averse to recognizing leadership, only that my criteria for the position of Leader is pretty demanding. I look for these values/skills/attributes: Innovation, Clarity, Intelligence, Compassion, Individuality and Creativity. We all manifest a leadership figure at points in our lives. The leader you have in your mind, your conscience say, is constructed out of all the people you have ever allowed to have influence over you. Before deciding something we might ask ourselves, “What would so and so do?” To follow, we must have a guide we can trust, even if the guide is a figment of our imagination.

We love it when someone follows-up on a request or suggestion we’ve made. We feel validated. If we feel like someone has paid attention, we are more likely to consider a proposal they make in turn. Loyalty can make us sheep, easily herded. Some will pursue others to get what they want. I sometimes think computer bots are set up that way. Our capitalist society needs data. Company algorithms will stalk (like a wolf) following the path left by our buying habits to ‘help’ us make our next purchase based on our shopping/internet history.

I was ten years on the Twitter site. I know this because the robots in charge of the algorithm sent me balloons on each anniversary date. I felt special in a way. I felt connected, like someone in the old days might have felt if they had a pen pal. The virtual connection helped during the isolating days of Covid. Now we have other matters of worldly importance to comment on or stew over. I’ve followed a flock to Bluesky. Time will tell how long I’ll inhabit this virtual space.

Re: Walk

In my time at University it was popular to hang posters with inspirational sayings. I remember seeing the one with a set of footprints in the sand describing how someone might walk with you in times of trouble. Another poster showed various pathways to talk about the road less travelled. Still another suggested the end result was not as important as the journey itself. Walking was central to many of these themes, and woe be the person who didn’t walk their talk, ideologically or in campus conversation. No one wants to be labelled a hypocrite!

There are many songs that depend on the word Walk to drive the message: Who among us has had boots made for walking, or been advised to just walk away like Renée. Maybe we’ve walked like an Egyptian after two many drinks or walked 500 miles just to be the one who falls down by your door. I’ve walked the line between good and evil, just to please the one I wanted to love me back. In the olden days if a boy walked you to the car or to your doorstep he was considered a keeper.

My 95 year old special mom sets a good example by going on a daily walk around the block. She takes seeds in a bag for any bird friends she finds along the way. As do other elders, she has a stable walker with handles suited to her height, a seat, and wheels she can brake so she doesn’t roll away when she chooses to sit and take a rest. I go with her sometimes but I find her slow pace a challenge to my balance. In a metaphorical sense I am taking a walk with her during this twilight part of her life. Watching her deal with the changes that come with aging is a privileged learning experience.

I’ve felt fortunate to have legs that can carry me to where I wish to go. Now in my eightieth decade I neither have the will nor the ability I once had to cover great distances. I have a friend who has mastered the famed Camino de Santiago trail. My son has tramped the beautiful West Coast Trail of Vancouver Island. My hikes have been much less impressive but I have enjoyed the ground I’ve covered. I have taken part in fund-raising walks and once, in late elementary school, I spent time training on a track in the manner of Olympic walking. I wasn’t fast enough to make the team but my hip-work impressed my weekend extra-curricular dancing instructor so much that he designed a special dance character for me. I was a cop-on-the-beat in a dance recital routine that had me walking around a Paris neighbourhood dressed Charlie Chaplin style: Rubber legged, bum waggling, and twirling my truncheon. The audience loved it!

Alas my 15 minutes of fame on that stage would not have propelled me to a career in show business or to be noted on Toronto’s Walk of Fame. But here I am talking about my walks.

Re: Loyalty

There are some values I not only don’t trust but actually shun. I’d go so far as to declare that loyalty is a moral principle that I reject. Loyalty does more harm than good, especially if it is a priority on your list of creeds to live by. The wrongness of this credo is evident to me in so many aspects of life. Yet in most people’s account book, Loyalty figures highly as worthy of respect. I put Love high on my value list so, please, let’s agree to disagree.

I’m binge-watching the television series Billions. In nearly every episode the notion of loyalty comes up. Shall I be faithful in my marriage, shall I honour my business partner, shall I be loyal to my clients whose money I am using to make myself more money? These are questions we see the cast pondering as they try to live fulfilling and exciting lives. To say their morals are non-existent is not being fair. The lesson the drama is teaching me is that being disloyal is the ultimate crime. Any consequence that comes from being disloyal is acceptable. Revenge is usually delivered on a cold plate, without a warm beverage. It’s a dog eat dog world when it comes to the power of money.

In my book of engaging in the social arrangement, allegiance might change from day to day. I figure that loyalty must not be blind, therefore it must be proven worthy by consistency, not history. It doesn’t matter to me that we ‘go way back’ if your current attitude or circumstance runs counter to my association. It’s not good for either of us to support a principle that undermines the common good. I can bend but not be tied in knots. Integrity, Health, Compassion, Courage, and Adaptability all trump Loyalty in my card game of values.

And speaking of Trump. This untrustworthy fellow is my Exhibit Number One in my assertion that loyalty is suspect in the court of human experience. Consider who the former president of the U.S.A expressed his fealty to! Not the American people, no siree! Despite being advised by some to avoid the likes of Putin, Assad, and Un, Trump courted these nasty individuals and fired those who opposed him for disloyalty. Trump is an example of what goes wrong in politics when loyalty is more important than honour.

If you define being loyal as having a commitment to another person then I have no disagreement. Once I have determined that a person is dependable I will have patience for most of their idiosyncrasies. However, I am not faithful to a fault because there is a limit in my loyalty bank and accounts are observed daily. To continue with the pet analogy; I guess I’m like a choosy cat rather than a devoted dog. A domesticated dog seems designed for unflinching devotion and we humans are all too often charmed by this misguided loyalty.

No wonder this four legged creature is referred to as Man’s Best Friend. He doesn’t know any better.

Re: Quest

Back in the day when I wrote for my local newspaper, The Timmins Daily Press, I would often make a request of my readers to take time to wonder. My column was filled with questions about life and all of its curiosities. It was my writerly responsibility, I pompously thought at the time, to encourage some mental adventuring amongst the Tim Horton’s coffee crowd.

In my youth I thought often of going on quests. In school I loved to learn of the seafarers who cast off the mooring lines of their home port to seek out riches in foreign lands. Education in the fifties and sixties was all about studying heroes who cruised the oceans looking for new found lands where resources were just ripe for the taking. I loved looking at reproductions of the maps used and routes charted by Prince Henry the Navigator, Magellan, Vasco de Gama, Drake and Cook. Textbooks of my time as a student contained scant information regarding the indigenous folk whose presence would be dismissed by these European explorers, as one might swat a bug while sipping Pina coladas at poolside.

We only learned about the upside to adventuring in history. Kings and Popes suggested that our Earth and Seas were a place to play, to conquer, to dominate. The world was ours for the taking and if anyone else was on the beach when we landed they’d better step aside unless they wanted to be part of the servant class within our colony. White English folk were good at this questing for things that already were part of another’s culture. But the swarthy Portuguese and Spanish had their say in their day. French and Dutch also sought the resources of distant lands without questioning whether the indigenous had an opinion. Early Norse folk were romanticized as Vikings in tales of discovery but their questing objective was also narrow; land was the prize! Those inhabitants with foreign coloured skin were merely chattel to be enslaved.

The fictional character Don Quixote as written by Miguel de Cervantes went on a quest; an impossible dream to right the wrongs of man. I feel his mission was more about searching for his inner compass than vanquishing evil but the idea may be the same. Watching a documentary on rock climber and media sensation Sasha DiGiulian made me wonder what motivates some folk to do risky things. Questers have always desired to be the first, the fastest or the most innovative. Creatives also can be defined as testing the boundaries of mental and physical forms.

I hope all my grandkids become adventurers. I want them to be brave and explore the limits of their world, perhaps expanding the realms of existence for all humankind. When I was a teacher I used to love it when one of my students discovered a fresh way of thinking or doing or being. Questing can be a wondrous pastime. Life is about finding a place for yourself, not a specific geographical location or a plot of land, but discovering your unique purpose.

Re: Trust

What do I trust, that the sun will come up, that tomorrow will come, that ‘the cheque will be in the mail’? Trust has been on my mind lately, as I listen to war news, trusting that the people we have entrusted to run our governments do the right thing by finding a road to peace.

I remember moralistic school lessons when I was a student. Values were not explicitly outlined when I became a teacher. I found ways to fold philosophical concepts into the classrooms of my primary grade children. Values are still preached in churches but carry a ‘must do’ condescending tone. I search for examples in society where values are exhibited and commented on, in a community context. Personally, I strive to behave in a consistent manner. I live far from my grandchildren. When I talk to them through digital means I trust that they will learn that I am lovable, kind and have a multitude of values they may wish to emulate. To be a trustworthy individual is a great asset to oneself and to the world. Earning a person’s trust is my primary goal when seeking friendship.

When I lose trust in someone or something it is a large step towards losing all hope. The United States of America puts great store in religion using, “In God We Trust” as a motto for their belief in government, its constitution, their almighty currency and their very way of life. I don’t accept that gods of any shape or form have input into human existence. Truth be told, I don’t trust easily. When I put faith in someone’s actions I have reached a level of trust which is not common to me. I reserve that for my wife alone whom I depend upon for my daily companionship and happiness. I put ultimate trust in myself; I am a naive soul in that way. A friend, who had gone through a rocky break-up and found a new relationship after depressed times, said of her recovery, “I’ve learned to trust again.” I believe the truth in that declaration is that trust must come before love.

There is a trend for companies to advertise themselves as trusted brands. I got a survey request recently that asked me to rate various products using human qualities like trustworthiness, friendliness, honesty and loyalty. A local financial institution sent fliers in the mail suggesting they could handle my money better because they were, after all, a Trust Company not a bank. This is further anthropomorphizing of a corporation! I don’t care for this manufactured consent approach in the marketplace. And a product is a product no matter how organic it might be!

Two songs about these thoughts come from children’s cartoon classics: The Jungle Book and Toy Story. The former is sung by the Svengali-like snake Kai, using trust as a tool for manipulation. The latter song is a happy tune describing the roots of friendship. Our personal, societal and international existence must depend on our mutual desire to trust one another.

Re: Own

The times in my life that have worked out for the better have been those occasions when I have owned the narrative. Times when I have made the best out of a poor situation. Times when I could have felt ‘done to’ but instead I decided that I could find a place for myself amidst the lives of others. It’s best not to feel victimized or even put upon. In the best or the worst of times, having some control allows us to use our creativity to make an adventure out of any circumstance. Taking ownership is the first step towards making a plan.

I resist the phrase, ‘You’ve made your bed now go lie in it’. Yet, owning the problem can enhance your responsibility; moving you into a place where opportunities await. Change becomes less shocking. You alone are best positioned to decide the best choices to make within the reality. Currently I am sharing the daily task of elder care. My wife’s mother is living with us so that her unique needs can be met. I rarely feel as though I want to jump ship but assessing my role in this present picture is a challenge. I could say to my bride, “She not my mother, you deal with it.” Or, I can accept my situation better the more I feel involved: I can read newspaper stories to this special 95 year old (almost blind) woman. I can engage her in a stimulating conversation. I can invite her to help me solve the crossword. I can walk her to the seaside, sit with her, and describe the scene my eyes can still see. I owe it to myself to own every moment I have in concert with the people in my world. In this scenario I am working towards the goal of recognizing the value of thinking, “Well she’s my mother too.”

Owning the present in an affirmative way has helped me accept change. As a teen my parents separated (I discovered I felt better when I spent more time independently with each of them). My first wife was raised in a church going family and wanted that lifestyle for our children (I found a new side of myself by joining the choir and learning biblical teaching). My second wife was into healthy food choices (I found the world of cuisine expanded my curiosity and gave me a heightened awareness of other countries and cultures). I adapted rather than acquiesced.

During one talk with my elder roomie, I asked her what she thought about the word Own. She blurted out, “Well I don’t own any furniture anymore.” An obvious statement coming as the consequence of downsizing and a cross country relocation to a small townhouse with her daughter and me. Digging out of the confusion of a life no longer being normal takes a lot of patience, until you find what is normal again. Owning up to the part you can play and being unafraid to design your own script can help with the success of any of life’s productions.

Re: Know

Once upon a time a friend came to visit. She was known to be a bit flakey in a good way; prone to creative spurts and mystical pronouncements. She had met my wife several years before and now she wanted to meet me. I think she wanted to affirm that my bride was headed in the right direction before she decided to tie the knot, so to speak. I remember feeling I was being mildly tested. On departing she gave presents of poems to her old friend and a stone to me. I looked at what she had printed on the rock: Know.

To know, is very central to my personality and behaviour. My wife’s friend provided that affirmation having barely experienced me. I seek knowledge, knowing I will never know all that I wish to know. I’m not after omniscience, merely a competent level of understanding. My quest can be funny, pathetic and infuriating at times. For example when I am trying to sort something out I will check for multiple confirmations that I have got the message. This applies to sales receipts as well as important contracts. I wish to know that everyone involved in a decision is on the same page.

We need assurances that we have been heard, felt, or seen. No one deserves to fall through the cracks. Seeking information is the beginning of all knowledge acquisition. I used to sing in a church choir. One of my favourite hymns began like this: ‘Ask and it shall be given you/Seek and ye shall find/ Knock and it shall be opened/Be opened unto you’. Knowledge is empowering, enabling, ennobling and encouraging. Having the know-how allows me the confidence to stride forth and accomplish things.

I go about all this as quietly and unobtrusively as possible so as not to freak my people out. Say I’ve been told that I am on a wait list for a doctor, which happened to me recently when my previous physician retired. I wasn’t willing to leave things to chance so I checked with an online registry in my province. When they could confirm I was on a list I next called the local clinic to see if I was on their duplicate list. Time passed so I set out to affirm that the wheels were still in motion: I wanted to confirm the confirmation. The squeaky wheel theory very much applies in my philosophy of life. However, I like to think that my approach is more dogged, than annoying. I try to appeal to people’s innate desire to be of help to their fellow humans. I never want to get ahead in the line: Just knowing I am IN the line is satisfaction enough.

Know-it-all TV host Johnny Carson used to admit that he did not know things. Likewise I’m fine with ignorance because it allows me to get excited when I’m late to discover that Marni Nixon sung big songs in movie musicals while others lip synced her gorgeous voice. Let’s call that a ‘getting to know you’ experience.

Re: Food

Food is not a big part of my life. There is no denying it’s a necessity, fuel for the body and all that, but eating as an activity isn’t high on my priority list. Most people think I’m strange for not going all exclamatory over the taste of something scrumptious. For my part, I think it is crazy that so many folk take photos of their food.

Some women I have known have been flummoxed that the way to my heart has not been through my stomach. I won’t refuse a meal that is prepared for me. I will always complement the chef. However, inside I will most likely feel that a self made meal would have been just as satisfying. And by satisfying I don’t mean gustatorily splendid, just pleasing enough to fill the need for energy to carry into the next activity. Leftovers are my favourite food. Leftovers make me smile because then when I eat them I’m serving a function; using stuff up. I hate waste, so even though I truly don’t relish the idea of eating, at least by eating leftovers (refrigerator ‘must gos’) I’m helping the planet in my small way. My perfect meal is prepared (what’s that?), eaten and dishes cleaned up in under thirty minutes. Call me Chef Boyardee!

On the Foodie spectrum, I’m obviously a One, while a Ten would be someone who is always looking up recipes, watching the food channel and/or discussing the next meal while eating one. My 94 year old mother-in-law wants to teach me the proper way to cook. There is a new edition of The French Chef that she asked me to order from the library. I think she fancies herself to aspire to the Julia Child level of cookery. She’s a sweetheart for telling me that recipes are meant to be followed line by line. My bride loves to experiment with food. I have told her that watching her cook is like being in an artist’s studio witnessing the creation of something magical.

Chefs are celebrities nowadays, perhaps they have always been notorious. In magazines and television, food experts are on display. I can’t imagine being on one of those competitive cooking shows where you get chopped, diced, or filleted for not producing the food du jour correctly, on time or in an artistic format. The final plating is crucial as it must use the china as one might paint on canvas. Get any aspect wrong by Top Chef standards and you are chopped for sure. Bon Appétit!

In my next lifetime I’d love to come back as a plant. I could be a mighty Douglas fir or a spongy mass of green moss. Ferns are nice. I could be a gentle fern, all green and leafy swaying with my kin, in a gully, communing with a babbling brook. That’s peaceful! No hunting for my dinner. I’d like to let chlorophyll do the job for me by taking the sun’s energy and turning it into an insta-meal. I’m a lazy eater I guess. Burp.

Re: Fix

I remember my dad used to fret so much when a television repairman had to be called to our house. In the first place he had to admit to himself that his skills with dials, tubes and antennae had been for nought. Secondly it would mean he might be shamed after the technician could fix the problem with a turn of a screw. Then of course came the bill, which would set my factory working father back half a day’s wage.

When my dishwasher went on the fritz recently I thought of my dad. I started into a brain spiral about repair vs replace. I called and got some opinions, which still left me in a quandary. On the one hand I had a perfectly good appliance that only needed a gasket (or so I thought). A competing idea had me considering the domino effect of falling/failing returns on my original investment. My DIY skills are limited, but like my wonderful dad, I have a certain amount of pride in looking after the things that I own so when they fail I take it personally.

Some things you just can’t fix on your own, especially problems of a non-material sort. Especially problems of the relationship sort! My bride and I have generally done a great job ironing out our differences. When problems between me, her or us crop up, we use different strategies to overcome the missing or damaged parts. I usually try to charge in and fix things but my wise woman often tells me, “I just want you to listen.”

Getting a fix on things is a way to focus attention on the important things. I want my mind to stick with the essentials during a problem solving exercise. It’s no coincidence when we use the phrase, ‘glued to the task’ to indicate just how deep our concentration can be when we are attending to the job at hand. I have an image of my dad trying to apply a fixative to a broken china cup handle. He had to hold the pieces until the epoxy set, all the while unknowingly sticking his tongue out of his mouth as if to tether his thoughts.

I can rarely control my imagination, so I have to rely on structure to anchor my wandering mind. When a problem is too overwhelming, I occasionally turn to the medicine cabinet for a prescription. I  recently rewatched the dramatic film Man With a Golden Arm starring Frank Sinatra.

https://www.tcm.com/video/198811/man-with-the-golden-arm-the-1956-i-need-a-fix/

I think of the many folk who are drawn to street drugs in our city. Illicit drug use is a problem with no easy fixes for millions through the world. The things that make our lives better sometimes make them worse. When a device, friend or situation lets us down we may feel temporarily defeated. Sometimes a technician of the mechanical, digital or psychological sort can help us fix the problem. It’s worth it to make the call.