Here's the deal...I have always thought that Paris Hilton was an abomination but having spent the last 4 days at the Airport Hilton I now see that she is simply a product of her environment. I have spent 4 days laughing my ass off that Dante couldn't have been here to see his Inferno was just a walk in the park.Thusfar I have spent $18 for breakfast, $25 foir a steak and $7 for a beer. There is a psychotic perversity in the building which seems to be embarrassed for all the guests have to put up with that it tries to keep you out of your room. I have a key card - which has seemed to propogate like a rabbit. Although I keep it completely segregated from all cards in a completely different pocket, I have nonetheless had to replace it 3 times in 4 days.This last replacement almost turned me into a scene from "The Shining"...":Here's Johnny!"So I go down to the store to get SOMETHING that costs less than a Mercedes ... Some natcho chips...a drink and back to my mausaleum but the room tries to save me from the sarcophagus chamber 532 by denying me access yet again..."Don't you get it ... Please save yourself ... Leave! ". Back down to replace my key... And the line is huge... I have a vision - "The man with the rifle shoots the rifle. When the man with the rifle is killed, the man behind the man with the rifle picks up the rifle..."The man with the rifle shoots the rifle. When the man with the rifle is killed, the man behind the man with the rifle picks up the rifle... And so I wait in line... 15 minutes later only 2 people have graduated to their private Gizas so I figure why not go for a $7 beer and let the line thin...Do you know some people actually have lingering little CHATS (pardon me for shouting) off I go ... Not even a pretty waitress.. I return only six people left...slowly steadily sorta like cancer I approach the desk. Finally I'm next Rajit and Singh behind the desk are trying their best ... Reminiscence of the Raj. The Air Canada flight attendant ahead of me is almost finished when a young Hindi woman steps up beside her... The Attendant says "You know there is a line". But I don't hear the response and she is served ahead of me. I give Rajit myvery best roll the eyes ...what the *#/! look and am rewarded with at least an embarrassed look... When I throw my keycard on the reception counter and request my 3rd key in 4 days I can't believe they ask me for I'd ... "Sorry Singh but it's LOCKED IN MY ROOM". I get a new key and an apology but though I would see increasingly more South Asian patrons I never got the chance to meet the princess. Tomorrow I will leave never to return and may this edifice receive the desolate emptiness it so desires. I understand Paris so much better now.

The Common Man

Christmas 2006 ...

Last night we heard from our son Daniel that he and his girlfriend of several years (Lindsay) had broken up. He let us know over the phone so I didn't get the chance to hold him in a massive bear hug and try to make him feel better. I had tried to prepare him for this day, but how is that possible. Heart break is a part of growing up. For many of us well... we've been there and nothing can quite describe that feeling of having your guts kicked out. But you know, "I know exactly how you feel" is a pile of crap. We all take these things in a completely unique way. For me that's how Christmas passed...but not how is began. I think it is wonderful that children allow us to share the joy of Christmas, because it really is their day. We watch the excitement build to a powerful crescendo. The increase is exponential with the addition of every child. I could sense the tremours in Connor long before the day, but the arrival of Caelah and Elijah Christmas eve unleashed a tsunami of unbridled excitement. I watch as "Moe Larry and Curly Joe" literally circumnavigate the entire ground floor of our home vocalizing with ecstatic delight at a decibel level which never went below a joyous scream. We all looked knowingly from one to another and the first miracle of Christmas was the tree remaining upright. Only the cats Zip and Wizzix hightailed it outta there, but I did catch a look on our black Lab's face which told me that had there not been such a good prospect for food being dropped on the floor, she'd be gone too.
Aidan is becoming such a good sport about Christmas. Never a big deal in his past he married into the huge production that christmas has always been in our home. If he had his 'drathers, he and Jo and the kids would arrive sometime in the late morning on the 25th, have an abbreviated gift exchange enjoy Christmas dinner and return home Christmas night. But ever since he has become part of the family he has steadfastly endured the overstuffed house and the impossible sleeping arrangements and the unbelievably early rising Christmas morning. Every time I see him endure this - and it's been a few years now - my love for him grows.
This year Katie's boyfriend Dave had his first baptism of fire. He performed admirably though at times I'm sure he would have "rather been in Philadelphia" God love him too.
Christmas Eve Liz realized that the 20 lb turkey we thought we had was closer to 30 lbs and we didn't have roating pan big enough. The hunt was on and the best we could do was to procure a tinfoil one from the 3rd or 4th place she went to which at least fit the bird.
Now let me tell you a bit about my wife. Liz is the personification of Christmas spirit. Without her there would be no Christmas in our home. She's the Christmas guru. If you've evr watched "Elizabethtown" Liz is like susan Sarandon at the memorial for her husband. She just goes and goes. I think of sue doing the little tap dance thing and for me it sums up Liz this Christmas in particular. She conquered all. she wasn't feeling particularly well but the show must go on.
We have a 3 bedroom house. Christmas Eve we had Aidan, Dave and Daniel in the master bedroom, Jo, Kate and Gabriel in the middle room and Connor, Caelah & Elijah in Daniel's room.
Liz and I had a couch in the livingroom anda cozy corner of floor. It is worked out by Liz in such a way as to not disturb anyone when she gets up at 5:00 AM to do the stocking stuffers. At this point the plan calls for at least a couple of hours sleep, but that wasn't about to happen this year. Poor old Gaby had a rough night (which meant that Jo and Katie did too). I helplessly listened as the night unfolded with Jo trying to settly Caelah and Elijah and attempt to calm Gabriel. Our resident Susan Sarandon got up and brought Gaby downstairs and he fell right to sleep. "The guys" in the master bedroom never heard a thing. Oddly enough I don't think Connor did either. My most peaceful time of the night/morning is when I take Arwen out for her walk. It is fresh, dark starry and shortlivedly quiet. The first of many pots of coffee began brewing at 5:00. Stockings ready and the turkey in to cook the kids hit the livingroom and I doubt one foot hit a step on the way downstairs. Even in this melee good old "Susan" has order. Everyone takes turns opening an item from their stocking by which time I believe we're on pot #3.... then the presents and I think Elijah takes the Oscar for most excited but it is a bitterly contested orchestration of Christmas delight - and but for the East German judge Caelah might have pulled it out. Now we have hit one of the few reasons adults are allowed to participate in Christmas as we now strive to assemble various items assigned to us. Then tradition dictates that I cook breakfast. Traditionally ham & eggs but Aidan has put his mark on the family tradition and a welcome one it is too. He does waffles (Jo actually helps with this but I think in future she should not be allowed as she does enough). She is also wasted from lack of sleep. Another truly fascinating thing about Christmas is that children seem to insist on playing in the middle of the kitchen while breakfast is being orchestrated around them but we do manage to convince them to leave most of the time. Breakfast is served and we manage to consume enough food for a small African country. Christmas dinner is still to come. Another bothersome Christmas tradition is the annual trek to the nearest convenience store for the one type of battery we forgot. Light sabres now actively engaged the tiffany shade survives - Christmas truly is a time of miracles. Now Ms Sarandon needs some help with the ostrich - for that truly is about the size this avian delicacy is. I remove the pteradactyl sized piece of poultry for examination. a little precarious but without incident. Coming along nicely put it back in the oven. This is when the tinfoil pan decided it's hung in there long enough and decides jetison the pachadermal poultry and pour several quarts worth of boiling turkey juice down my leg and onto my foot. Every inclination in my being is to drop the carcass and extricate myself and in my mind that picture from the 70's of that naked Vietnamese girl running down the road after being struck by napalm. We save the bird though we lose some juice my sweat pants have protected my keg but my foot is badly burned. This will produce a very large bubble on my foot for the duration but I'm okay apart from that. A few brandy and egg ogs and I'm right as rain. Dinner time arrives and Jo and Katie and "Sue" work up a storm in the kitchen. I carve the stegosaurus readily and we prepare to feast. And it is delicous. We make hardly a dent in the bird but everything is perfect. For the first time in history people have no room for dessert. This I believe is largely the effect of Aidan's fantastic waffles whipping cream bananas and syrup. the aternoon calmly becomes evening with a few games a movie and then it is time to pack off the kids. By 8:30 "Sue" is in her bath, and Connor is in bed. Daniel and I have Jo's amazing blueberry cheesecake and disappointedly watch Dallas get spanked by the Eagles. I limp off to take Arwen for a walk and by 11:00 I am in bed and the day has ended. Boxing Day was uneventful except for the news of Daniel's break-up but life goes on. He is planning on joining the Armed Forces Reserve in the Governor General Foot Guards, so soon do they grow up. We have all grown this Christmas season as we reinforce the things that are meaningful. Faith, Family and Friends the way we touch each other with love and I leave the day feeling especially loved. It was a wonderful day because I was with my family and they love me. God keep us strong and true and may these days reflect in us - YOU.

There are moments of discovery when a treasure you thought lost
One you'd like to find again at almost any cost
Shows up quite unexpectedly and you see reflections cast
Values that have shaped you and things that really last
A picture ninety-one years old - a father off to war
Family surrounding him - what he'd be fighting for
Images, pebbles in a pond, lost memories cascading
Ripples transcending time itself a physical realm that's fading
A father's face rejuvinates 'cause it's the face of my own son
His sister's face looks through the years
And it's my daughter's one
There is a lesson taught by God that time and life are fleeting
And Faith in what's eternal strengthens us for Death's defeating
Though trenches may be full of those who've fallen in the good fight
Praise to God the victory to see past endless night
We stand in awe as He comes forth and lifts His people up
To toast the victory He has won and each drink from His cup
I pray my children come to know
What this picture means to me
I hope that one day He will show
Who they are meant to be
Then Hope will reign eternal
And we'll live and laugh together
Rejoicing in the love of God
Who will make all things better

Friday night was a surreal moment for "The Common Man"
Under a blanket of stars on a perfect summer's night before a quiet lake which shimmered like Galadriel's mirror, I indulged myself with a favourite chore - building a fire. It was a moment of pure bliss, with three of my four children at the cottage with me and the fourth ever present in my mind, a cold libation and pleasant thoughts, I revelled that for thousands of years this same setting would have tugged at the heart strings of the common man. It was something with which every man could identify. Revelling in the vastness of God's creation surrounded by the love of one's family and knowing that one small speck of existence was yet of infinite value to the One who had created it all. The fire blazing - mesmerizing as it always is - occasional sparks floating up to heaven with my prayers of thanksgiving. It is good to be alive. The warmth of those inviting flames were just a chill next to the joy I felt in my heart.

The Common Man was born out of a desire to publish the view of the world from the eyes of the average man. Our society was built by the sweat and blood of people for whom the world would not give a second look. We have grown into a society of relativism - a legal system with no concept of justice, of rights without duty, legislation without honour. Small and vicious lobby groups impose their will on the majority who look at one another and say "How did this happen?"
The poem with which this Blog was introduced was the view of a common man. Hard working, decent, loving with a sense of duty - to family, to friends, to his God. The events of this current age and the shaking of truths long held unassailable (more out a conviction of common sense than anything else) fuels a sense of almost desperation. In many ways this man could be me, though it is not. The man in the poem is not sustained by an unshakable faith in the God of the Bible as I am. He does not believe that Christ is victorious and all things move according to the pattern He has set. Nor does he see that all things work for good.
As time permits, my goal is put events in perspective as I try to see it from his eyes.

The Common Man

Just another stranger lookin' for a magic land
But a slap in the face put me in my place
And reminds me who I am
Once daring to dream, thought I did right
But orcs rule here where all is night
And we just sit and take it
I did my time, towin' the line
Always dreamin' that I'd get mine
But dreams are needless luxuries
And poetry's for fools
Meant not for the common man
But for those who make the rules
The rest of us just fake it
My body aches
My strength is gone
Threadbare faith keeps me going on
"Home for Christmas!! "
The war will end
But the dead fill the trenches we defend
And I don't think I will make it.