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(image taken at Hanlan's Point, on Toronto Islands)
Living loudly beside being a blog entry contrast from DailyHaiku's shhhhh) is also an English idiom that doesn't have a direct equivalent in French. Yet, the... visuals are easy to get.
A serie of events made me rethink about that.
First, in the subway recently, while waiting for the train to arrive, there were two teens girls, madly in love... with each other.
Kissing, when French gets more than just a tongue attribute. And they were going merrily, in full view of everyone.
Public display of affection, with the added twist that this is done by disciples of Sapphos.
(Translated from French) -This is soooooo lesbian, one said -Well... that's who we are, the other said.
-And I know no other way to love, the first one said.
And back to more kissing, the French way. Cough cough.
I was about to say something to them, then I bite my lips and stayed silent.
I was thinking when I was their age, (and in case you didn't know, I'm bisexual), it wouldn't even occur to me to kiss a guy in *public*.
It was an era where you had to *hide* signs that you were different from the seemingly ruling majority. For your own good.
An offense, to the profane, and to the moralist who felt compelled to ahem "intervene" as in a fight, and even to the (blind) eye of the law, that could get you arrested for such an "offense".
So who am I to spoil their fun with my own heritage, from a time that is no longer current?
So I looked at them with envy. So beautiful to see, and I felt old. I wish I could time wrap 30 years back while staying in today's time frame, so I could kiss my then lover in public, too.
Living loudly, then and now...
===
Yesterday, I began to do some cleanups of my desk computer at work. They're about to change my 4-year old 'puter for a new one (it was still running just fine, but this is company policy, so...),
I stumbled on a bunch of podcasts from Regina Lynn, dated in 2006 when she was writing for W*red. For a brief period of time, journalists had to do articles and also podcasts, which may or may not be related to their articles.
Sadly the web site (and the magazine) went way down the drain a few years later when they got bought and along the way, a lot of journalists got fired, including her.
Back in 2006, I was hooked on that site, and I read her articles and listened to her podcasts regularly.
Technology is one thing, but we don't make them just for the sake of technology. There are humans.
Because of my own struggles, and how I got drawn to the computer field, I was interested that technology could be made and then crafted, to help us do things we would be unable otherwise.
Her articles, "sëx drive" was about technology... and the use (and effects) of technology on humans, more precisely the rather intimate things we do. From the online world fantasy, to the real world fallouts, good and bad. Adult stuff, definitively, but stuff to make you think and ponder.
One of her podcasts was titled, of course... Living loudly.
She recorded her podcast after she went to a clothing optional spa in Washington State.
Mhhh, yeah living loudly? Then it would. Today? Mhhh... what's so loud about that?
And that made me smile, because during my last stay in Toronto a few weeks ago, I visited the islands, and along the path, there was a clothing optional beach, which I didn't mind to stop there, and I exerted my clothing options and had a dip in the water. How such a beach was "offensive" back then, and how today, few people do mind.
In 2006 at the time of her podcasts, sites like "face the book" and "your space" were nascent. She said that the younger generation wouldn't mind, nor care about leaving a digital trail of things, even things that we adults, we would be ashamed, even feared of losing our job if we did the same.
In the years that followed her original podcast, lets say that a lot of digital trails got posted and a lot of people got in trouble too. Old and young.
Her point was that when these kids will be the leaders of tomorrow, they'll change the society, so the things that make us frown today would be perfectly accepted later.
They are born with the technology, and they're using it, their way.
That made me think.
In his time, wasn't Elvis the Pelvis such an obscene display... that on Ed Sullivan's show, that fairly new medium and technology called TV, he showed up only from waist up? And today we smile at so much puritanism?
How's about the Beatles?
And for us, off the norm, Stonewall wasn't that a long time ago, and today...
That made me think of the two girls kissing madly in the subway the other day, and no one was shocked.
I figure that social evolution will happen also with the online world, and in broad terms, with the use of technology, and what was considered living loudly then... would barely get the attention of anyone in the future. It's just an OK use, one usage among many of that technology.
Yet, I'm not so sure that it will happen that way. Nor that soon... online world, and real world.
Evolution is often that two steps forward, followed by one step *backward*. I wonder whether we are at that very step.
The emergence of the extreme right in the US, draping themselves so heavily in religion, advocating its intolerance, from sexual morality to others' religion, even open racism, made me think again.
Even gains made in the past, seem to be gradually lost.
My fear is that being yourself... could be seen again as "living loudly"...
... and as we get back to an intolerant society, you would get you punished once again for living out of the norms...
simply for being who you are,
simply for living...
... but too loudly to some people who were given the right to rule your life.
It's been almost a running gag. Friends and work colleagues have been nagging me that I should write a book about my last 4 years. Being a son and a caregiver. How to take care of an ailing parent for the first 3 years, and for the last year, how to accompany someone, who is also my dad... to his final rest. And beyond...
I joke that a book is soooo 20th century, however this is so personal that I don't feel about bragging.
(Even on these blogs, I posted only a few blog entries. Besides, I also kept the hard stuff just for me.)
Also, since it's the internet, you always have to protect yourself. You never know the kind of people who would read you...
And yet, you'd be surprised. Speechless, jaws dropped. (You'll see why. Read on...)
I also thought that (finally) settling dad's estate would have been presumably the last chapter. Normally, it would.
Well...
When someone passes away, and also when there are legal challenges and settlements, those things MUST get published in local newspapers. So a couple of times, dad's name and mine appeared in the papers... you know, next to the Classifieds (and it costs a bundle, far more than the Classifieds, as I found out. Urrgh).
Enough for someone to take notice. Since our name is extremely UNcommon in Québec, that person has wondered if those people could be...
Mhhhh...
When dad passed away last April, it was the beginning of the race to find papers. Starting with his will of course. Also his marriage contract, and so many things our bureaucracy wants absolutely pronto... while you're still an emotional wreck and the body of the deceased is still warm. Sigh...
I remembered then that there were a few odd things in those papers. Not that they would directly matter in the upcoming legal fight per se (but the potential was there), but odd in the sense that...
It clashes with my recollections of my dad. And so far, it also clashes with what my mom has always said.
I had so many things flying around that I figure that when I'll have time, I might want to dig this up. Or not. Not sure...
In the meantime, that person who has noticed my name in the newspaper also took her time to ponder. As big as it would be to her AND to several people, if her hunch was right, she knew it would be equally big to me.
Through the funeral home, it is only recently that my e-mail address was relayed and that's how she contacted me.
And what she wrote exactly fit those odd things I found in dad's papers.
I'm 46. Mom is 86 and so was my dad. So they were both 40 when they had me. So you can figure that by their age... they weren't exactly virgin.
And as much as I knew on my mom's side, about my dad there was a black hole to me (and even to my mom, as I later found out), especially on the first few years of my dad, after he arrived in Canada.
We both have crazy schedules, but we'll meet in the upcoming days, and we'll sort this out if what we are both thinking would be... true.
If we are right on what we both think, it raises a slew of questions.
And I don't even want to think about the emotionals...
Who is that person and who is she to me, and who I am to her. She's in her *50s*, and I gather there might be several more people in their *50s* who happened to be just a couple of years older than me...
Do the maths. If you haven't figured this out, I won't tell. Not now...
But that's enough that I didn't sleep well.
And no, it isn't bad news. It's rather amazingly fantastic news.
Yup, that book will get several additional chapters, for sure.
(A view from NYC's South Street Seaport, January 2009. A port, the sea, the sun. Signs of hopes, signs for open possibilities... Copyright 2009 JP)
It's been 4 years that I've been awaiting that moment. From the time my mom has sent that SOS in May 2006, that I should step in and take care of dad...
... and now.
I got the green light earlier this week to (finally!) move forward in liquidating dad's assets.
I prefered to cut short my vacations and to jump in right away, not wasting time. Just in case, you know...
So everyday this week, it's been the round of financial institutions, banks, credit unions and even the equivalent of our IRS, both provincial and federal...
It dawns on me that being at this very late stage, once it will be done...
... figuratively and literally so, it will be time to close the books. *For good*.
4 years that I've been managing crisis, one after the other. 4 years that I had to set aside my own needs, having to set aside everything, just to resolve those crisis.
In 4 years, I didn't have to think. Well, no more than figuring out how we'll all be there at the end of the day. 4 years of living on a day to day basis.
4 years that I gave my heart... to people I love the most, my parents...
4 years of joys, of pains, of glimpses of happiness, and 4 years of scenes of gigantic dramas, frustrations, setbacks...
And there's nothing to celebrate today. End of the tunnel for me, but that's the end for my dad, and I knew it would be that day from Day 1, even if I didn't want to think about the outcome...
... and I'm there today, 4 years later.
The day I dreamt and dreaded at the same time, it's in sight. Finally so, and yet you won't see me celebrating.
Mhhh...
There's one thing to dream so dearly of that day, to hope desperately for that end, even at the terrible cost,
... and then what?
Getting back to what it was in 2006 and attempting to resume life from where I left doesn't seem realistic. I change in the meantime. My environment has changed too.
Besides, 4 years of things that I had to set aside, will eventually found their way too.
I'll have to start thinking on a much longer range than just a day at a time.
I'm not frightened, not scared, not depressed, not feeling a void neither... but I have no idea of where what when nor how.
Other than having some much needed respite during the next couple of months, of course.
It just feels... weird. Weird in front of such contradicting feelings.
Also the open wounds and the need to heal,
Also feeling being like an empty shell from giving so much for so long, and for so many times. A thankless duty...
(in case the image doesn't show up, this photo was taken near Wall Street in January 2009. I came there for Upintheair's Blogfest. About the bull, do think of the stock market's bear and its "bull", for which we were a bit... "behind". Oh naughty me. PS: There's more to this image than the obvious. Read on...)
I don't like religion. Organized religion, that is. Take any organized religion, there is systematically a bad side.
On principle, I'm not all that happy when a church, a synagogue, a mosque, or any temple for some cults gets built. To me, it means that religion has just tighten a little bit further their grip onto people. That's how I feel about religion, -in general-.
So on that principle, I'm not all that happy to see a mosque to get built, but I'd say the same about a church and any kind of temple, and at any place.
But I have to be fair. People have the right to have their faith of their own, and definitively have the right to have a place to meet.
When I heard about the project of the mosque, a few blocks away from "Ground Zero" (and *NOT AT* Ground Zero), while I wasn't exactly enthusiast for the reasons above, I was curious at who would be against.
The Republicans, the right. The very people who have draped themselves heavily into Christian religion to get elected.
Religion against religion? Mhhh... I wonder whether there is a bit of that happening.
The Republicans, the people who were against abortion, against sex ed, against homosexuality, name it. God guides them, apparently. Mhhh...
People who, as elected officials have let *their* religious beliefs influence state business, so *all* citizen regardless of their faith have to abide. Mhhh...
And these right wings people are the one seeing a "Holy war on US"? Look who is currently doing a holy war. Maybe a mirror might help...
I've yet to see how a mosque near Ground Zero should be so offensive. Seriously.
Because *all* muslims should be guilty?
Guilty by association? Guilty by religion?
Mhhh...
Also the US has the nerve to tell others how intolerant they are, while showing with such pride... their *own* intolerance, based on religion?
Wouldn't be an opportunity, propaganda being the name of the game, to INDEED have a mosque there, to precisely show that the US isn't that evil intolerant country that is often depicted, and worth fighting?
Mhhh...
Back to NYC and its stock market bull shown on the photo. That bull is a symbol of capitalism.
Capitalism, in the country which money rules, the US.
I'm thinking that even near Ground Zero (in case one doesn't know NYC geography, "the bull" is ALSO located close to Ground Zero), this is mighty *prime real estate*.
I am thinking that what should decide whether there will be a mosque at that precise location...
Locally, the zoning by-laws... and then whoever can afford to come up with the biggest pile of money for that land. Capitalism, at its best.
Sunday was supposed to be a stormy day, and lo and behold, it started mostly like the other days, the sun was peaking through and it was going to be another hot and humid soupy day.
Instead of visiting museums (and there was one recommended by Noisy and the Qat close to the hotel), maybe I should go to the beach, again.
Best way to beat the heat.
Though I figure that it might rain eventually. I brought with me a plastic bag, to protect my stuff from the rain. Glad I did so.
After a nice dip in the water, I took a nap on the sand. It is the tingling of the rain that woke me up.
and seconds later... it began to rain by the buckets.
Rolling in the (warm) sand, wet, it occurred to me that in the fetish world, this would certainly qualify as WAM play. (as in Wet And Messy. It's a big thing, you can ahem... dig it further on that topic with your favorite search engine).
That made me smile. If the rain wasn't a tad too cold for my taste, it would have been sheer fun.
This much intense rain meant that it wouldn't last long. However, I heard thunder in a distance, and considering that this is mostly open space between the beach and the ferry dock, I'm better to stay low, lying on the sand and let the storm goes away. Le coup de foudre, you know, it's better figuratively... than literally so.
====
back in the city, the evening was coming up and I wasn't sure of what I would do next. On my way to my hotel, I saw posters for the "Church Street Fetish Fair" (you can goog it), held this day, and it is within walking distance from my hotel.
That made me smile. Given what I've been through, mhhh... Okay, it's going to be my fetish day, all the way!
(Church Street is to Toronto what Davie Street is to Vancouver, the Village in Montréal or the Castro in San Francisco. The rainbow flag does fly high. )
Black is the rigueur on those fetish events. At least my t-shirt is black, and I was wearing black socks. I'm safe. Then it dawns on me that if I had brought my kilt, I'd fit perfectly.
I saw several guys in black kilts, by the way. (Not that I'm obsessed with kilts, but you know !!!)
It was a street fair, so a chunk of Church street was closed to the traffic. At the entrance of the fetish fair, there were billboards warning pedestrians that there maybe shocking views, and should not enter if this is offensive.
Like with most street fairs, pubs and restaurants have set their tables... on the street. I didn't eat anything so far, so I figure I should stop, to grab something to eat... and to observe.
You realize the full power of clothes.
Also how creative people can be too in their state of "undressness".
Not offensive to me.
Though it's quite a contrast from the clothing optional beach I were, just hours ago.
And I have never seen so many leather clothes on display, by people and for sale by merchants, along with many paddles, floggers on sale. Even slings, the fetish version of the humble hammock (!), along with more intimate stuffs, like cockrings for the guy, and various torturous devices for one's pleasure.
Am I out of my element? Mhhh, yeah a little bit, but I didn't mind.
I'm out of my element when I'm in the downtown area of a big city, to begin with. And I find the huge crowd, the crazy traffic, all the sirens going on incredibly stressful. Going downtown is rarely a pleasant experience for me.
I'm an oddball, off the beaten path. Despite our differences, we're alike in being out of the norms.
So I felt better there at the fetish fair than being on glitzy downtown Yonge and Dundas with all the flashing billboards, Toronto's version of Time Square.
And I was smiling all along. At awe at the creativity being displayed. And on some scenes, looking at how some (mild) fetish acts were being performed in public.
Offensive?
I always thought that the ones who are quick to tell others how offensive are their conducts... are in fact the ones who are being offensive.
In my book, intolerant people are offensive. We don't have to live according to *their* standards.
I'll skip descriptions, but how people are dressed and what they do, for their enjoyment...
It's one thing to not feel comfortable, but you have to give to others the right to enjoy themselves the way they want, just as you were given the right to enjoy yourself the way you want, without people fingerpointing at you.
Thoughts and more thoughts... on a day that I didn't know beforehand that it would turn out to be.
... and that's the fun of being on vacations, not knowing where the path I'm on will go.
Yesterday was a perfect day. Sunny, delightfully warm and dry, not of the oppressive hottness and humidifying stillness of the temperature that has been too often the case.
After doing all the trekking on Toronto Islands the other day, I figure that yesterday, I'd return to the islands this time just for its beaches. Oh the ferry rides too. Any opportunities to be on a boat, you know...
Met the Sensual Sculptress at the beach, (which I'll blog soon). She loves to carve... the sand, hence the sculptress and her work. mhhh... you have to be VERY open-minded, but she let her creativity goes unrestrained and it shows. This is a testimony of Torontonians (and Canadians in general). More on an upcoming blog entry.
In the evening, back to civilization(!) at a pub close to the hotel, I met... Noisy_Introvert!
I had to ask the gentleman next by whether he feels being more of a Qat or being Lenni. When the photo was taken I gather that I'm seeing his feline Qatpersonality. Okay dokay!
So I was officially welcomed to Toronto, the center of the country, the center of the universe. Be humble. As a Montrealer, it's tough for me to swallow, but I have to give due credits to Torontonians.
When these sweet souls have called Toronto their home, it says something about the city!
And time flew, oh my... And on a one on one meeting, which is much easier on me to participate, and at a bar which the music was NOT loud (a blessing!), and decently lighted so I could see them clearly (another blessing), I thoroughly enjoyed the evening.
Time to update on their side, and on my side. So many things going on for all of us!!!
Did we talk about blogfests? Sure. Including the last one at ahem... the former center of the country and the universe (!), Montréal.
About the blog community, too... and of course, the no gossip rule didn't kick in. (And it is on purpose that I'm using the double negative! )
And about travels in the country, and politics. (And between Canadians, when there's someone from Québec, I think it's impossible NOT to talk politics. )
Even TV shows, and I was FLOORED to hear from Qat that he is a big fan of some French-speaking TV shows from Quebec. Wow, and I am in Toronto, center of the country, center of the universe (did I say that already? )
It's been a wonderful evening, and yeah, with a bit of a help from beerly lubricants too.
I love this blogging community. And it is easy to take this for granted.
I've been online for a very long time and in several online communities,
Yesterday, I walked a lot. Continuing the tour of Toronto islands where I left off last fall.
Last autumn, it was at a time it was terrible for me, with dad at his lowest in his mental health...
And now...
over, in the sky...
Last fall, I was so depressed... and now these days, and with the news that the last thing that prevented to really come to term with the passing of my dad, and I got the green light, finally to move for war... Different seasons, autumn and summer. In life and in my life.
====
Centreville, being well... the center island, is the center of attention of many tourists. It's a family oriented amusement park.
A radical departure departure from bucolic Ward's island, and Hanlan's Point, the end of my journey.
Diversity.
====
Hanlan's being a beach reverted to natural from past developments, and for people to exert their textile option to be ... au naturel, reverting to our past look, when clothes weren't required other than to protect us from the weather.
We are self, without artifice of anykind to pretend to be someone else.
My feet were aching from the long journey, and I've been sweating heavily during that trek, so never the dip in cold Lake Ontario felt... so refreshing.
Blanket being spreaded on the sand, it's the irony of my little island of... textile just for me.
And time to bring a bit of sun, on parts that rarely see the sun.
===
Recurring thoughts...
Life is so simple it seems at the beach. And there's none of the stress, none of the hassles of modern life in a big city.
I always thought that if I could put that in a box and bring it with me, and to be able to draw from that box... my dose of calm and serenity, even getting drunk on peacefulness.
====
I met the "sensual sculptress" (you can use your favorite search engine to find her blog). Ephemeral arts on the sand, and permanent reminiscence of their past glory on the web. Neat. Her work is about senses (hence, sensual), without taboos. Bravo.
====
I wasn't successful at spotting the Perseids (Too much light pollution coming from downtown, located... north of the island where the Perseid should be visible, and the beaches are oriented... southward, the woods, northward.
Looking toward the South, where it is so dark because it is straight over Lake Ontario, the stars would sooo pop right there.
And it is an awesome view, from the zenith to the horizon, there are just stars...
When stars meet the horizon...
It is when you are severed from something that you realize its value. I miss those starlit skies I once took for granted...
The simple way of life, and our bad habit in supposedly "modern" life to make it complex.
Yup, the kilted guy is on the go... again. Catch him if you can!
As I've been doing for several blogfests I attend to, there are ALSO vacations being mixed in.
Being the host of a blogfest didn't change the rule.
So I'll be spending a little while in TO, and inco and gnito hopefully, mhhh... I should drop the kilt, err... I mean substituing pants for the kilt and not just dropping it.
I've just checked in at the hotel, doing the essentials (is the internet connection working? Yes, obviously!).
The plan for today is first food.
After, I'll go to Toronto Islands, going from where I left off last autumn (see photo), From Ward's Island to eventually Hanlan's Point. Last year, I stopped past Centreville, which is about half-way in.
There are also a bunch of beaches all along on Lake Ontario, also several several marinas. All that on islands which cars aren't welcome.
So I think I should like my stay.
If ferry schedules (and weather!) allow, I plan to spend the evening on the beach, hoping to see the shooting stars tonight. Lake Ontario should be somewhat darker than downtown Toronto, though I'm not sure that beaches are correctly oriented for the Perseids. I'll see. Literally!
And what the heck if I can't see them. Spending the evening at the beach, for a city guy like me, it is awesome, already.
Time to unwind, time to decompress.
A footnote: As soon as I arrived in Toronto, my cellphone rang. My notary. I got awesome news about dad's estate, and things will really begin to move forward. FINALLY! I might have to return to Montréal next week to sign documents. those are changes in my plans I absolutely don't mind making.
So the mood has been very good. Good start of vacations so far. Crossing fingers!!!
Gotta go, I'm starving.
Let's go eat stuff, as a beloved blogger would say.
Winteach and her boyfriend. Monday afternoon in the Vieux-Montréal.
Sunday was another crazy day. I was on the phone with Winteach, wondering what we'll do.
"Mhhh... the weather doesn't look good. We'll go out on Monday". Okay dokay, I said.
As soon as I hung up the phone... Brooom! Thunder, followed by torrential downpours. I smile. The craziness continues!
So we stayed put on Sunday, awaiting eagerly for Monday to arrive.
Winteach wanted to visit museums starting with the "Musée des Beaux-Arts de Montréal" (Montreal Fine Arts Museum) on Sherbrooke near... Crescent.
So on this Monday morning, while on my way to meet Winteach, I had a bad feeling. Sunday is OK but I don't feel that Monday is quite right for visiting museums.
As soon as I got out of the subway, my cellphone rang. It's Winteach. The museum is closed! What we should do? Mhhh... ok, we'll meet at a café next by on Crescent street and we'll figure out.
So we decided to walk down Crescent Street, and then heading east.
Essentially we did in reverse what we did with Lexy and Fr33tob3m3 the other day. Kind of funny to revisit the scenes of the crime... in reverse order.
Winston Churchill Pub once again, and then we took the Old Port bus instead of the subway, so we were once again Place Jacques-Cartier.
We ate there, we inquire about boat cruises and then we head east toward the Clock Tower.
All along, I was the tourist guide. We generate some giggles all around, because of odd things here and there.
We took several pauses at park benches. Enjoying the great day, enjoying... those nothingness times which there's no schedules, nothing to do, just enjoying... to be there, enjoying conversations and to be happy.
(I did a little photo montage, in order to put 2 photos into one. From left to right, Fr33tob3m3, Lexy, Winteach and her beau. Photo taken from my patio, Saturday night)
We waited and even started eating and drinking... lemonade (!) while we were waiting for Winteach to arrive.
So the blogfest was well underway when Winteach and M finally arrived!
And then we decided to continue the party at the same neighbourhood bar that we were on Thursday night, when the power was out at my place, and we had to scramble to find a place that still had lights.
We like the bar so much, and its people that we returned again yesterday night.
Giggles and smiles, lots of conversation going on...
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