The Atavist

Ghost Town - by Jessiah Pedde

2011-08-21T19:38:00.003-04:00

My nephew Jessiah has started writing songs. I am impressed with his turn of phrase and the melodies he writes. He has one demo video and I want him to do more to get exposure for his music. Are you a hotshot performer (or know of one) looking for material that is original, honest, and relevant? He has several great songs now and maybe soon he'll have enough material for an album. Let's help make him famous ;-).

Ghost Town by Jessiah Pedde

Roca Milagro - Living in Paradise

2011-08-02T12:26:00.001-04:00

Today we are launching “Living in Paradise”, Roca Milagro’s new newsletter. In this monthly publication we will be featuring news about our Roca Milagro development near Rovira Arriba and we will also tell you what there is to see and do elsewhere in Chiriqui Province and other parts of Panama. We will be sharing great Panamanian recipes and other interesting content that we hope you will enjoy.

If you have already signed up for email updates, you will receive the newsletter in your inbox. If you have not signed up yet, what are you waiting for? Sign up now, at www.rocamilagro.com

The ‘X’ Factor

2011-04-08T10:03:00.004-04:00

It was September of 1968. I was in my second year at the University of Western Ontario. Lost in thought, I was walking across the lawn and up the hill leading to University College when I noticed a pretty girl coming down the hill towards me. I recognized her, having seen her a few times at the St. Catharines Collegiate Institute where I had attended high school. I didn’t actually know her, but I knew her name. We passed each other, but neither of us said anything. I don’t know if she even knew who I was. That chance meeting, however, was important to me. I’ll explain why, a bit later.

In April of 1968, I had completed my first year at Western. Like thousands of other students, I looked for a summer job to help me pay my bills. Jobs were hard to find and I found myself driving a cab for an independent owner who had his vehicle on the U-Need-a-Cab fleet. The cab owner was an understanding and cooperative guy and he agreed to allow me to spend time every day away from the cab. Most weekdays, between the hours of 10am and 2pm, I sat in the waiting room of the offices of Isard, Robertson, Easson & Co., Ltd., a local stock brokerage firm at the time, and watched stock symbols and prices scroll by on an electronic display mounted on the wall. When something caught my attention, I would place a small buy order, usually under three hundred dollars. I rarely held any stock more than three days because the third day was settlement day when the stock purchase had to be paid for. I made enough money to supplement my meager income as a cabbie and somehow managed to survive.

When I did drive my cab, I noticed that calls would come in from local businesses which needed something delivered right away. There were no messenger companies in London at the time. Local delivery or cartage companies would typically pick up whatever businesses sent out one day and then deliver it the next. I couldn’t imagine why a dedicated messenger company didn’t exist, so decided to start one. I gave up my cabbie job. I called my brother who was just about to leave Ontario for a job in Alberta, and asked him if he wished to be my partner in a new enterprise. He said yes and agreed to come to London, from St. Catharines. He was eighteen. I had just turned a ripe old twenty-three, having taken several years off during my high school years before being admitted to Western.

My brother Alfred manned the telephone at our new company and I continued at Western, but my heart wasn’t in it. I was bored and felt unchallenged but didn’t want to drop out of school. My biggest concern as I was walking up that hill at Western in September was trying to find a suitable name for our new company. I had been calling it Pedde Deliveries but wanted something ‘cool’ and memorable instead.

I have always liked the letter X. Xerox came to mind. What a great name that was. If only I could come up with a name that had an ‘X’ in it . . .

As I watched the girl come down the hill towards me, I thought back to my years in St. Catharines and remembered the great times I had there. I remembered founding the Club Unicorn, a weekend nightclub for teenagers that I started at age 17. I remembered my band, The Continentals, and the many happy hours we had spent playing together. I was just a bit homesick. With my mind on St. Catharines, I returned my attention to the girl and tried to remember her name. What was it? Penny. That’s it. Penny . . .

Penny Helis was her name. I had one of those moments when you get a chill and realize that something important had just happened. As soon as I said her name to myself, I thought of grade eleven physics and discussion of the double helix in DNA. I had a name for our new messenger company. Helix.

That was over forty-two years ago. Soon after that day, I decided to leave Western and to devote myself to my company. I bought out my brother Alfred’s interest eventually and today, Helix Courier Limited still provides local messenger services and overnight courier services to hundreds of customers.

Penny Helis, if you are out there somewhere, I never said thanks for your part in the Helix saga. Thank you, Penny. I wish you well, wherever you are, and hope that life has been good to you.

Sieg Pedde, President, Helix Courier Limited

Addendum, May 5, 2011: Last week I discovered that the girl's name was actually Penny Heelis, not Helis. It doesn't chnage the story, really, because it was the pronunciation of her surname that I remembered. I had never actually seen it spelled out. So, Penelope Heelis, wherever you are, hello, and thank you again!

The Success Primer

2011-02-03T09:55:00.005-05:00

The Success primer - Financial Planning for Beginners is an ebook I wrote some years ago and it was published by my company Phoenix Accrual Corporation in our proprietary Omnipresents format. I have now updated the ebook and have made it available as a Kindle ebook on Amazon. I hope to have an iPad version available soon.

Check it out on Amazon: The Success Primer.

Corkscrewed

2011-01-10T14:32:00.003-05:00

Corkscrewed

Linked here is part of a rehearsal of a song I wrote called Corkscrewed. I wrote it with the great guitarist Will Ray in mind and he has agreed to play along with me when I have all my musical ducks in a row and am ready for him. In this rehearsal version, it’s me playing the lead parts. I can’t wait until Will adds his great talent to the finished version of the song.

Want to see what Will Ray is up to? Check out his website here.

I also jam weekly with a friend of mine named Paul Pedersen. We call ourselves Geezers With Guitars. Check out our music here.

Geezers with Guitars

2010-08-20T08:34:00.006-04:00

(Paul and I playing at the Thorndale Acoustical Music Club.
Photo by George Barnett)

I love playing my guitars. For about three years, I have been jamming most Wednesday evenings with Paul Pedersen, another guitar player. He responded to a Kijiji.ca ad I had placed captioned something like: Talentless Geezer Seeking Jamming Partner. He was still living in North Bay, Ontario, but had taken a job in London, where I live, and thought that answering the ad might help him get to know someone here and that as a lover of music he might have some fun as well.

The relationship has worked out well. We started playing mostly old songs from the thirties and forties with an occasional inclusion of something a decade or two younger. Once we got to be comfortable with each other and our respective playing styles, we started bringing original material to our sessions and found that we were each able to enhance the other's work and soon we played more original material than anything else.

We are slowly starting to record some of our original songs, all instrumental, at a studio of a new friend of ours named Kent Thorburn. Unfortunately, we all live somewhat hectic lives and getting the time to record is difficult.

Paul and I call ourselves Geezers with Guitars and I have created a website and a FaceBook page under that name. I will slowly be adding recorded material and to start there are a few representative compositions of both Paul's and mine and also our version of a song called Sweet Dreams by Don Gibson. Have a look/listen on the Songs page of the website if you are interested. Remember, we do this for fun, not with any great desire to wow anyone. If you like anything we do, send a comment to us from the Contact Us page of the website. That way both Paul and I will see your comment and will be (hopefully) encouraged. Don't forget that we are old and feeble and that any negative comments might be perilous to our health ;-).

Life is all about having fun and this part of my life is a lot of fun.

Happy 18th Birthday, Zach!

2010-08-09T11:29:00.005-04:00

It seems that all I am writing on this blog these days is birthday posts. I certainly wouldn't want to pass up the opportunity to write about an occasion as momentous as my son's 18th birthday, so I think it is time for some reflection.

I was 47 years old when Zachary was born. Several months before he arrived, I had taken a solitary trip, at my wife's urging, to find my brothers in Germany. I have written about this before but here is a brief recap: In January of 1945, near the end of World War II, my mother, along with tens of thousands of other Germans who had resided in Poland, were fleeing towards Germany to the west to escape the advancing Russian army. She had become separated from my father through a series of misadventures and was alone with my sister Wanda, aged about thirteen at the time and my bothers Albert and Erwin, aged respectively 3 1/2 and 1 1/2. I was not yet born. My two brothers got sick and my mother took them to a clinic in Graal Muritz, a seaside resort in what would later become communist East Germany and there they died.

Because the refugees had no choice but to keep going, nothing was known about where my brothers were buried. I made it my quest to travel to Graal Muritz and find out. I needed the closure. The trip and the emotional turmoil I experienced are too much to address here in a few words, but I visited the clinic and was told that when the Russians arrived all patient records were destroyed. A receptionist at the clinic helpfully suggested I visit the local Lutheran Church to see if they had any records. I met with a kindly pastor there and he found an old ledger with my brothers' names and their times of death and where they had been buried. He also warned me that I shouldn't expect grave markers as so many children had died that the bodies were simply stacked one on top of the other.

I found the cemetery. I spent most of one day there, walking around, grieving and getting the closure that I needed. The rage I had felt for years was stilled and I felt mostly just emptiness and disappointment. Disappointment that I would never get to meet my brothers, disappointment that they had been cheated of their lives, disappointment in the human race for repeating the same insane behaviours century after century, seemingly never learning from experience that hate and violence breeds, not surprisingly, more hate and violence.

The photo above is of the church in the cemetery at Graal Muritz where my brothers were buried.

When I returned to Canada, I was very ready for something more positive in my life. A little over two months later, Zachary Alexander Pedde was born. For many years, I had been ambivalent about having children. I needn't have been. My son has been a source of joy and pride and has given me a sense of continuity that I needed.

As Zach grew up, I talked to him often about my brothers, about my family history, about history generally, about war and peace, about everything I could think of that would help him come to his own conclusions about the meaning of it all. At age eighteen now, I know that he is equipped to handle life's surprises, its frustrations and disappointments, and still be receptive to and grateful for, its beauty and pleasures.

Life is, as Thomas Hobbes first told us: "solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short." It is up to each of us to find joy and peace and meaning in our life. I think I have accomplished quite a lot in my life and I am proud of my achievements. But if I had never accomplished anything in my life but to be the father of Zachary Alexander Pedde, I would be proud to have that honour and distinction. He is a special young man and I am very proud to be his father.

I love you, son.

Happy 18th birthday.

Dad

On becoming a 'senior citizen' . . .

2010-07-28T08:53:00.004-04:00

This past Sunday, I turned sixty-five years old. Hurrah! That last sentiment, normally expressed with laudatory or congratulatory intent, is here laden with more than a little sarcasm.

Getting old sucks. I'm in pretty good health, overall. Everything still works satisfactorily, so I am less disgusted with my physical and mental state than I am with the fact that my time on earth is slowly running out. My father lived to be 94, my mother 88, so my genetic influences are pretty good, but let's just say that I wish I had fifty or sixty or a hundred more years to live rather than a mere thirty or forty.

Why?

Because I am a curious guy. Every day I wake up excited about what the day will bring. I like running my businesses and don't expect to retire, probably ever. I like watching my son grow up and am constantly amazed by all the little things that puzzle, perplex, amuse and sometimes mortify parents around the world. Zach is seventeen, about to turn eighteen. Yes, we're both Leos. I don't believe in astrology but interestingly both my son and I share some of the more stereotypical Leo traits. Like most fathers and sons, we butt heads on occasion, but I have to say that he is turning into an outstanding young man and I am very proud of him.

I am also curious to see if humankind will ever get its collective head out of its fat ass and realize that individual responsibility, rather than delegation of responsibilities to incompetent and corrupt politicians and bureaucrats, is the answer to everything. Why is it that so many of us have so little faith in ourselves that we bind ourselves in servitude to groups of meddlers who are almost always inferior to us in every way?

I don't understand.

Maybe that is why I want to hang around for a long, long, time. I seek understanding every day. Maybe someday I will find it. I am frustrated every day. Maybe some day I will wake up without frustration. Maybe then, I will be ready to 'go.'

I suspect that it will be a long, long, time until the world makes any sense to me. Given that I want to hang around for a long, long, time, I guess that is a convenient co-incidence.

Don't worry that I am letting things eat away at me and that I will become a bitter and disillusioned old man. I take life as it comes and look at it and everything around me with bemusement. I don't always like what I see but I don't let it destroy me. I prefer laughing and loving over grousing and hating.

It's my life. As long as I will be able, I will live it on my terms. I hope that you, dear reader, and I both are around when I write a blog post on the occasion of my hundred-and-thirtieth birthday.

New concept drawing for Roca Milagro site plan

2010-03-26T10:44:00.002-04:00

My friend John Cornacchia and his staff at Globacorp have produced a great conceptual design for our Roca Milagro development. It will help us all understand what the project might look like when complete, how large the lots are and how everything relates to the green areas, the river and the streams.

If you would like a high resolution PDF file to see the details of the site plan better, please email me and I will send you a copy.

And yet more Berlin Wall . . .

2009-11-06T11:20:00.005-05:00

Photograph by Dr. Friedhelm Pedde

In response to my posting of the Fall of the Berlin Wall article by my cousin Dr. Friedhelm Pedde, I got a very nice personal account of a visit to Berlin long ago from an old friend, Paul Miniato. With his permission, I am posting it below. If any other Atavist reader has similar stories, please send them along and I will post them.

Here is Paul Miniato's account of his visit to Berlin:

In the summer of 1972 I visited Germany on a university exchange program -- I had a job as a waiter at the a hotel in Schwangau in the south of the country. As a 21-year-old student, the job helped me practice the German I had been learning at UVic.

As a new 'libertarian' -- but one who had never met another in person -- I was constantly on the lookout for opportunities to discuss the politics of freedom. Some of my earliest discussions took place with the guests of the Hotel. The first self-avowed libertarian I ever met was a US serviceman stationed in Nuernburg -- when we met, he took me to the windswept deserted stadium that had hosted Hitler's rallies, but that's another story.

At the end of the summer, we students assembled again for a three-day trip to Berlin. My visit to the Wall turned out to be one of those days that I never forgot. During the day we visited a "museum of escapes" that documented many of the successful attempts that had been made to get over, under or otherwise through the wall. I remember one exhibit showing a van which had been "armoured" to make a run through a checkpoint -- body cavities filled with concrete, windows replaced by sheet metal plates filled with drill holes. (They made it -- with some casualties I think -- but after that the checkpoints were littered with tank stops to prevent future trips like theirs.)

Late in the day, I found myself on an observation deck that had been built on the west side of the wall to allow you to look over. There we could see the sites your cousin has photographed, only the dogs were still running and the guards still patrolling. On that platform was a former East German guard who had made the escape -- we spent much of the evening into the wee hours listening to his accounts of the life of the guards. I also learned that the former guards were actually the sponsor of the museum of escapes.

By that time, most of the escapees past the wall itself were the guards themselves, usually in pairs. Apart from everything else to stop the regular fugitive, the guards had special instructions. They were rotated constantly so that two guards never served more than once together. Each of them was under orders to shoot the other should they attempt to go over. Even broaching the subject would be cause for instant arrest. Failure to stop your partner would be a serious offense, if not a capital one. Still, an amazing number of guards were able to suss each other out in a few short hours, and make the break together.

It was an evening that had quite an effect on me -- I can still feel the electric atmosphere as we stood in the dark and stared over the concrete and listened to these stories.

The following day, some of us actually went over into East Berlin. I was with a group of three who spent hours having our passports checked before we were allowed to enter. After the night before, it was a daunting crossing, but I guess we figured that as Canadians we were "off limits". And I remember the feeling of how gray it was in East Berlin, and seeing all the still-unrepaired ruins from WW2 -- none of those on the West by '72. I was struck by how all the pedestrians stopped and stood for a red light at a crossing on a relatively narrow street -- when there was not a vehicle in sight in any direction. And we couldn't even buy an orange or a banana -- as students, we'd lived on fruit stands in the West.

Coming back at the end of the day, I wanted to bring back some East German coins. Technically this was illegal -- you were supposed to spend or return the currency you were forced to convert at lousy rates upon entry. So I stuffed the coins into my shoe. A minor crime, I'm sure -- but as a young student I was nervous enough -- and as the truth be told, it probably wasn't the smartest thing I ever did. Still, I didn't give myself away and "smuggled" out the contraband.

That was the last time I saw the Wall, although we have a small piece of it in a leather bag here at home. Bought it when it came down. The Wall always symbolized for me the true meaning of freedom -- or rather its absence. I must have mentioned it often enough. When it finally came down, a friend of mine called me from overseas to congratulate me. (Not that I had a lot to do with it -- although I always like to think that helping ISIL send copies of books by Rothbard, Mises, Hayek and Rand behind the Iron Curtain had played some small role.)

It's on my list to revisit Berlin some day. Perhaps that old observation platform is still there and I can stand on it and watch the kids from both "sides" playing in the old "death strip".

In freedom,

Paul

More Berlin Wall . . .

2009-11-06T09:24:00.003-05:00

Photograph by Dr. Friedhelm Pedde, 1989

In the photograph above, excited West Berliners congregate at and climb onto the Berlin Wall in November of 1989. Days or weeks earlier, this would have been extremely dangerous. Enforcement of prohibition of travel between East and West Berlin stopped November 9, 1989. To read all about it, click on the link below for an article written by my cousin Dr. Friedhelm Pedde, an archeologist in Berlin who witnessed the events first hand as they unfolded.

The Fall of the Berlin Wall - by Dr. Friedhelm Pedde

The Fall of the Berlin Wall - 20th Anniversary

2009-11-05T14:53:00.006-05:00

Demolishing the Berlin Wall the hard way. Photograph by Dr. Friedhelm Pedde

The link below is to a PDF document that contains something near and dear to me. I hope you will download it, read it, share it, spread it around far and wide.

I was in Berlin in 1992, not quite three years after the Berlin Wall came down. I spoke with former East Germans who were still bristling at the fact that they had been kept isolated from the West, deprived of social and economic freedom and opportunity, always facing the certainty that they would be shot if they were to attempt to flee to the west to improve their prospects or reunite with family.

Next Monday, November 9th, marks the 20th anniversary of the fall of the wall. I asked my cousin, Dr. Friedhelm Pedde, an archeologist in Berlin, to write an article about the fall of the wall. His perspective and some personal anecdotes are included, as are some personal photographs taken by him in the days after the momentous event. I am grateful for his time and effort.

Freedom is the most precious thing we can enjoy. Let's protect it, and to the extent that it has been taken from us, wherever we might reside, let's take it back.

I welcome comments on the article. I will pass them on to my cousin.

The Fall of the Berlin Wall

Julius Pedde, 1904 - 1998

2009-09-01T13:39:00.008-04:00

It's hard to imagine that my dad, were he still alive, would be 105 on September 7th, this coming Monday. Yikes. Had I been born when he was in his twenties, I would be in my eighties now instead of a mere (!) 64. How the world has changed since my dad was born on September 7, 1904.

I don't think my dad ever really knew what to make of me. We disagreed on just about everything -- especially religion and man's place in the universe, but he was never anything but gentle, consistent, and helpful. I still miss him, although he died at age 94 in December of 1998.

Like just about everyone in the last generation of Peddes, my father lived a turbulent life. The upper picture shows my father in Poland with his first wife, Emma, in 1932 or so. The little girl in Emma's lap is my half-sister Wanda. The girl beside Emma is her daughter from her first husband, who had died and left Emma a widow. Before Emma herself died a couple of years later, she and my father had lost a son named Bruno who was born in 1933 and lived less than one year.

After Emma died, my dad took care of Wanda by himself. The relatives of Wanda's step-sister took custody of her as it made no sense to them to let her stay with my father and Wanda. In 1937, my father married my mother. It is said that he asked Wanda to make a choice between two women he was interested in and she chose my mother. I guess I have her to thank for making me possible. Thanks, Wanda.

In the second picture above, Wanda stands behind my father and mother, sometime in 1944. The two boys are Erwin and Albert. I never met either; they died in 1945 before I was born.

I don't know how my father and mother, and everyone else who endured such turmoil in their lives, coped with it all. All I know is that I had a great childhood, with loving parents, and they never whined or complained about anything. When times were tough, they sucked it up and battled through until things got better again. That is one reason why I am so disgusted whenever I hear any 'woe is me' talk from anyone, especially if it is accompanied by petitioning and pressuring our political masters to take from the rest of us to make their lives easier.

My parents and grandparents took care of themselves and their families. When times were tough, family and friends helped. They didn't resort to political extortion and expectation of hand-outs. They were proud and self-sufficient. We could, and should, learn a lot from their example. Your family, dear reader, was likely no different. The notion of entitlement to someone else's efforts and money was absent. They were strong and independent. That is a philosophy and behaviour we should emulate; instead many of us are weak and dependent. And shameless, too.

Dad: Thanks for setting a great example for Wanda and Alfred and me. I hope that I may do the same for my own son. I promise to be strong and to follow, as best I can, your example.

Peddes Everywhere

2009-08-31T12:47:00.004-04:00

A bunch of Pedde cousins and my son Zach, Gananoque, Ontario, August 2009

I'm back in my office after a whirlwind week that included a family reunion in Gananoque, Ontario, and a leisurely detour through upper New York State to get back home. Now, it's time to catch up on all the work that inevitably piles up when I am away.

The family reunion was great. Some of us hadn't seen others for many years. My brother hadn't seen one cousin for decades and had never met another. My son met two of my cousins for the first time.

My cousin Friedhelm, an archeologist from Berlin, did a presentation on the origins of the Peddes. I can't remember much of it because there was so much detail, but the presentation was fascinating. Friedhelm has promised to formalize the information so that I can put it on the www.pedde.ne t website for other Peddes to enjoy.

We had a truly great time. We talked, laughed, jammed with guitars that my brother and I had brought along, and the time went very quickly. Occasions like this allow some introspection and I realized in discussion with others that I had three Pedde cousins named Horst. What are the odds? One Horst is son of my uncle Gustav who disappeared in World War II. Another Horst is son of my uncle Eduard who died at age 98 in Kelowna, B.C., a year or so ago. The final Horst is son of my aunt Wanda who lived in Poland until she died several years ago. There are two Richards, sons respectively of uncle Eduard and aunt Wanda. There are three cousins who have 'fried' (Friede means peace in German) as part of their names. There is Wilfried, son of my aunt Maria, Friedhelm, son of my uncle Adolf, and of course yours truly, Siegfried. The desire for peace was strong among rational Germans during and after World War II.

We are planning another Pedde reunion for 2012, probably in some part of Germany significant to the family. If we are lucky, perhaps my sister Wanda, and some cousins from Poland and Germany who didn't make it to this reunion might attend.

It will be fun.

Pedde Family Reunion, August 22, 2009

2009-08-21T09:47:00.003-04:00

I am taking a week off. I know, how dare I, with so much to do, not least pointing out to everyone who will listen that we are descending pell mell into a hell of economic misery, thanks to misguided and incompetent bozos in various levels of government. Worse, while they are at the wheel, it is we, the electorate, who without much prompting have our foot on the accelerator. What's wrong with us? Are we all masochists at heart, not happy unless everyone is reduced to the same level of misery as everyone else?

Maybe I need a week off to get my mind off this stuff. I will be in Gananoque, Ontario, for a few days, at a family reunion I have put together. My cousins Friedhelm, Gunter, and Horst from Germany, cousins Richard and Horst from Texas, and my brother Alfred and sister Wanda from Ontario will all hopefully be there. Some of our kids will be there as well, in particular my brother's kids Jasmine, Amber, Jordan and Jessiah, my own son Zachary, and my sister's daughter Rita. It should be fun.

I put together a huge poster for the event, a smaller version of which is displayed above. I love looking at old photographs. They remind me that the human race has been around before my generation and will in all likelihood continue to exist after I am gone. I can't see how, given our propensity for collective stupidity and a seemingly total abdication of common sense and personal responsibility, but maybe things truly do move in cycles and those laudable and currently absent qualities will return again.

I sure hope so.

Happy Birthday, Zach!

2009-08-10T14:49:00.006-04:00

It seems that lately I am writing nothing but birthday posts. Yesterday was my son's 17th birthday. Happy Birthday, Zach.

A child's teenage years can be tough for everyone, kids and parents alike. A teenager knows everything. Nothing is tentative. Everything is known with dead certainty. I know, I was a teenager myself once, many, many, many years ago. If I was ever insensitive or unbending or just plain obnoxious to my parents, I would like to offer overdue apologies. Really.

The photos shown above are of my son and taken long ago. Look at those poses. Do they suggest that he might be directing some lesser mortals to do his bidding? I can't remember the occasions, but have to wonder.

All kidding aside, I love my son, am grateful to have him, and wish him a long and happy life.

Another !*&%?! Milestone

2009-07-24T14:52:00.007-04:00

(Yours truly at age five in 1950, with my brother Alfred)

Tomorrow, I will have attained the ripe old age of sixty-four. My staff treated me to a birthday cake at lunchtime and presented me with a nice birthday card. One of them thoughtfully included this in the card:

"Will you still need me
Will you still feed me
When I'm sixty-four?"

Yes, Ted, I will still need you, even when you too are an antique like me, aged sixty-four. And like you, I remember that song, recorded by the Beatles way back in the 1960s.

Do I plan on retiring next year at this time when I turn sixty-five? No. I really don't ever plan on retiring. I handed day-to-day operations of my main companies over to a management team in 1988, when I was only forty-three years old. I had originally intended to take it easier, travel, smell the roses, and all that. I don't think those notions lasted more than a few weeks. I like to be active. I like to have a place to go every day. I like what I do and I like my employees. They are a great bunch and I am lucky to have them. I now spend most of my time working on things that are fun and interesting, like the Roca Milagro project in Panama.

We live in interesting times. I believe that we are due for a time of social upheaval and financial collapse, beyond anything we have seen so far. Do I want it to happen? No. With a family history as filled with mayhem as my parents endured in their lifetimes, I don't want my immediate family or anyone I know to suffer similarly. Is there anything we can do to stop what I believe is coming. I wish there was, but I don't think so.

I am grateful that I live in Canada. My family was welcomed into Canada when we arrived from Germany on board the S. S. Scythia in 1949. I was not yet four years old. We assimilated, worked hard, prospered, and became Canadians. Canada is a great country.

I am glad that Canada has not yet followed completely the footsteps of our southern neighbours and that our goverments have not indulged in an orgy of spending and unrealistic promises that will be impossible to keep. Of course, it may still happen. We still have relative economic stability and I hope things stay that way.

I have always been an optimist at heart and believe in the strength of individual human resolve. As long as we do not completely delegate our responsibilities to various levels of government, we will survive and eventually things will get better. If we follow the path set by the American congress and president, we too will be screwed.

Dear Canada: Thank you for putting up with me for the sixty years that I have lived here. I am often quick to point out things that aren't quite what they should be, but I am also quick to acknowledge what is good and positive.

Here's looking ahead to many more years in this great country!

My mother, Alma Pedde

2009-07-17T10:00:00.006-04:00

On July 17, 1914, my mother Alma Pedde was born. Today, on July 17, 2009, she would have been 95 years old. She died at age 88 on July 28, 2002.

My mother was a bright, talented, perceptive person. She was born in the wrong place, at the wrong time, under the wrong circumstances, into a world that was unrelentingly cruel to her and her family. Yet, she was optimistic and forgiving all her life. I have written elsewhere about our family history and won't repeat myself here. For anyone who can read German and who might be curious, please read my mother's history, or my father's, both penned by my mother at my request. Some of her 165 or so poems, universally positive and optimistic, can be seen here.

Back in the 1970s or so, I had a silver brooch designed for my mother, pictured below:

The eight jewels are the birthstones of my mother Alma, my father Julius, and their children: Wanda, Edgar, Erwin, Albert, Siegfried (me) and Alfred. Wanda was born in 1931 and is still alive and well. Edgar lived only a few months in 1938. Albert lived from January 6, 1942 to March 2, 1945. Erwin lived from April 19, 1944 to February 17, 1945. I was born in 1945 and my brother Alfred was born in 1949.

My mother is gone now, but her spirit and sense of fairness live on in her family. And her brooch now resides with me. It will be passed on to subsequent generations. And so will her genes and the memories she left with us.

Happy birthday, mom.

Actually, it's greener on OUR side of the fence!

2009-05-14T14:47:00.001-04:00

(Click image to enlarge)

It's May. It is beginning to rain more in Panama. I like the rainy season. Often, all it means is that there is a downpour for a while and then the sun comes out and everything smells fresh and is bathed in sunlight again. Sometimes, it is overcast all day but is still warm and pleasant. If you are past the age when you like to splash barefoot in mud puddles, what do you do when it rains? You go shopping. You meet friends in a restaurant or bar. You stretch out in a hammock with a good book. You stare off into the distance and reflect on your past and future and thank your lucky stars for what you have.

I may be 63 years old myself, but I am just a big kid at heart. If you join my partners and me at Roca Milagro one day, you may just see me walking around in the pouring rain with a silly grin on my face. I may even be barefoot, you never know. Life is too short not to enjoy and to experience the simple, everyday things that often go unnoticed during our more stressful career years.

The view in the photo at the top of this post is from one of my personal lots at Roca Milagro and yes, it was taken during a previous rainy season. Isn't it wonderful how green everything is? The view in this photo is towards Volcan Baru but views in all directions are beautiful, from every single building lot in the development.

We're selling building lots now, folks, and prices are still low as we finish off our roads and services. Take advantage of the low prices. Want to live a perfect life, and like me to pretend you're a kid again? Join us. You'll be glad you did.

Please sign up for our email updates below or visit our website.

Roca Milagro Website

My Sales Pitch for Roca Milagro

2009-05-12T13:17:00.000-04:00

Retirement in Panama:
Is it for you?

Yes, I think it is for you and I'll tell you why.

World economies are crashing around us, just as many of us are reaching retirement age. With our investments decimated and with the prospect of living on a lower fixed income after retirement, how will we be able to maintain a reasonable lifestyle? Have we been working hard all of our lives in expectation of a comfortable and enjoyable retirement just to discover that it has all been a dream and nothing more?

For some of us, the question is even more critical: How will we be able to pay the bills? Will we be able to retire at all? Will we have to seek some menial employment just to pay the bills? And now, with jobs disappearing everywhere, will we be able to work anywhere at all, even flipping hamburgers or pumping gas?

Maybe. Or maybe not. Even menial jobs are disappearing at an alarming rate.

What if there were a place where we could live economically and not have to worry about making ends meet? What if this place was safe, stable, affordable and beautiful? And what if it was warm year-round and you would never have to worry about paying a heating bill again? What if you could build a beautiful home for a fraction of what it would cost where you live? And what if property taxes were very low, or if you build a new home were forgiven completely by the Panamanian government for 15 - 20 years?

What if there were already many Canadians, Americans and Europeans living there?

Where is this magical place? It's the Republic of Panama.

Panama is a beautiful country. Google 'Panama' and you will find hundreds of pages of information on Panama and everything in it. Google 'pensionado Panama' and read about all the wonderful benefits that come with the pensionado program. No matter where you live in Panama, there will be advantages galore. But we want you to live with us and that is the point of this letter to you.

And who are we? We are a group of Canadian, American and Panamanian investors. We are developing a beautiful community in the mountains of Panama, near Boquete, David and the Costa Rican border. All of our partners own building lots in the development and we would like you to join us as our neighbours. Our development is called Roca Milagro.

You can check out our beautiful development and read all about us at our website and and I will give you its link in a just a moment. First, I just want to add that we are now selling building lots at low introductory prices and they are going fast. When infrastructure is complete, prices will go up dramatically. The time to act is now.

Before you go on to the website, please sign up for our email update list by clicking the graphic at the bottom of this post. No-one will call or annoy you. Your email address will not be sold to anyone else. You will simply be put on our own email list from which you will get periodic updates about Roca Milagro. That's it. If you ever wish to stop getting our updates, send us an email and they will stop. We are not pushy people and respect your right to privacy.

And, one more thing . . . we are real people. We will be living at Roca Milagro with you. We have invested our own money. We don't owe anything to anyone. There are no banks holding mortgages on our land and on our future. Why are we telling you this? Because we feel it is important to stand apart from some unscrupulous developers out there who once they have your money forget all about you.

Come on . . . join us. We look forward to sharing our first drink with you at Roca Milagro. Will that be on your patio or mine?

Thanks for checking us out!

Roca Milagro Website

Sieg Pedde, President
Roca Milagro Residential Community
Rovira Arriba (near Boquete)
Republic of Panama

Home is where the heart is.

2009-05-06T15:56:00.000-04:00

(Click photo to enlarge)

"Home is where the heart is." Or is it: "Home is where the hearth is"? I guess either would make sense. So would: "Home is wherever I hang my hat."

Home is whatever you want it to be. We all have fantasies about where we would love to live and what our ideal lifestyle might be. Some of us have simple wishes. Others of us have aspirations that would shame Donald Trump or the late Aaron Spelling, both of whom known for their extravagant lifestyles.

I wonder what the story is about the home in the photograph above, taken a few kilometers outside of Boquete, Panama. The place is abandoned or perhaps had never been completed in the first place. The setting is beautiful, the home looks like it might have been a beautiful place to live. It was once someone's dream, now it is more likely someone's nightmare.

My personal dreams are simpler. I don't need a huge house. I want a comfortable home. I want it to be clean and orderly. I want enough room for a few guitars and other musical paraphernalia, some good books, and a few comfortable places to sit. Besides that, the atmosphere and the company are what really count.

I have a number of building lots at Roca Milagro. I want to build a nice, comfortable home on one of them to stay in whenever I am in Panama. It won't likely be the largest home in the community or the one with the most 'presence.' But it will be mine and I will enjoy it. I hope there will be friends and neighbours around with whom I can discuss philosphy and politics and religion and the general human trend towards self-destruction. Maybe there will be someone with whom I can 'jam,' playing (as my Canadian jam-partner puts it) music that is older than we are.

I am looking forward to getting a horse and to riding in and around our development. Maybe there will be other riders in the community who will join me. Sunshine, fresh air, beautiful scenery -- what more could one possibly want?

One thing for sure: My home will need one of these:

I think home is where the Gitane is.

Let's get stoned.

2009-05-01T15:48:00.000-04:00

(Click on photo to enlarge)

I never did get the hippie 'thing.' You know, "Tune In, Turn On, Drop Out," or "Drop acid, not bombs." I always preferred to know what was going on around me and quite often to watch with bemusement while people used horticulture or chemistry to try to help them find meaning in an often baffling world.

So no, getting stoned never appealed to me. I do like stones, though. I even liked the early Rolling Stones. I like rocks too. And rock 'n roll music. And rock walls.

And there, dear reader, is finally the point of it all: rock walls. And rock planters. Along with the several kilometers of rock walls already there when we bought the property on which we are developing Roca Milagro, we are several adding kilometers more. Right now, we are building rock planters around the main gate at Roca Milagro. And then, many of our residents will build rock walls around their individual building lots. Rocks, rocks, everywhere.

And when we are all done building things with rocks at Roca Milagro, there will still be hundreds of thousands of rocks left over. I like them. They add character to the site and are just one of the things that attracted me to this property.

And so, my friends, I say: "Rock on!"

Click, click, click . . .

2009-04-28T19:52:00.000-04:00

My artist friend Perry D'elia has come up with the nifty banner shown above. We will be using it and some variants thereof as clickable links to sign up for our Roca Milagro email updates.

Try it: click on the banner and sign up now! Don't worry, no-one is going to harrass you or sell your information or do anything nasty like that. We will just send you occasional emails about our Roca Milagro project. That's it. No pressure. And no salesman will call.

I promise.

Making Friends in Panama

2009-04-22T13:14:00.003-04:00

(Click on image to enlarge)

Even the horse in the picture shown above knows that sometimes having a good friend or two is a good idea. We all need friends on occasion. Getting to know new people in a new country might seem difficult, but in Panama it is really quite easy. Walk around for a bit in Panama City or Boquete or David and you will run into individuals who hail from Canada and the United States, and increasingly from Europe. They will be just as happy to see you as you are to see them. And the Panamanian people are friendly, open and hospitable.

Then there are the social networking groups that will help you meet new friends. Sign up at http://boquete.ning.com and check out the profiles of interesting individuals there. One new friend of mine on that network is Lynnie English. She took the photograph displayed at the top of this post and kindly gave me permission to use it here.

I love that photograph. Where but in Panama could see such a sight?

Thanks, Lynnie!

"What will I do?"

2009-04-20T14:16:00.001-04:00

Some Roca Milagro partners enjoying a patio breakfast at 'Olga's' in Boquete

One question I hear about moving to Panama and to our Roca Milagro development near Rovira Arriba specifically is: "What will I do?" Some people are apprehensive about being stranded in a foreign country without a lot of stimulating activities available to them.

It is a good question.

I usually begin my response by asking a question of them: "What do you do now?"

Mine is not a silly question. Most of us spend our lives in our homes or yards. We putter, watch TV, read, surf the internet, work in the garden, engage in hobbies. Occasionally, we go shopping or to a movie or out to eat.

That is what you will do in Panama if you move there. Most of the time you will spend at home and in your yard. And, unlike in much of North America or Europe, you will be able to spend time outdoors year-round, even in the rainy season. Many Panamanian homes have covered patios and one pleasure I always enjoy is sipping a coffee on a covered patio while it is pouring rain just a couple of meters away. Some dramatic thunder is a bonus.

If you do want to go shopping, depending on what you need, both Boquete and David are nearby. And, some great restaurants, featuring prices that are dramatically below what you would expect to pay for comparative meals where you live, are available in Boquete and David as well.

What if you would like to hang out with some other Americans or Canadians? You can't avoid them, they are everywhere in the area. I have met many of them and am impressed. Remember, these people, like you, have a spirit of adventure and curiosity about the world around them. Chances are, you will make many new friends, if you are the sociable type. If you want to live like a hermit, you can do that too. It's up to you.

There is a new service, at www.boquetecalendar.com that will help you get an idea of what there is to do in Boquete and surroundings. It's a new service and the calendar isn't exactly brim-full of activities just yet, but check it from time to rime to get an idea of what is happening both in the community at large and among the expats resident in the area.

Above all, remember that in between hiking, horseback riding, white-water rafting, deep-sea fishing, swimming, snorkeling, sight-seeing, bird-watching, eco-tours, and all the other things you might wish to do in Panama, you will need some time to sit down and relax. We would love to have you join us at Roca Milagro. Maybe we'll share a drink and discuss philosophy or religion or politics or just how lucky we are to be sharing time in this beautiful community.

Please sign up here for Roca Milagro Email Updates

Your patio or mine?

2009-01-14T15:19:00.004-05:00

At the beginning of February, I will be heading to Panama again for two weeks. I can't wait. Global warming has forgotten to include Ontario, Canada, it its game plan, and as a result we are freezing our buns off here. We have had a ridiculous amount of snow, unusually cold temperatures, and there is, so far at least, no let-up. At least in Panama I'll be warm for a couple of weeks.

I am discovering, in booking flights and hotels and car rentals, that everyone is a little friendlier and a little more flexible with pricing and making deals. Businesses are hurting, folks, and they are beginning to realize that their customer is truly their most valuable asset. They are beginning, at least in a small way, to act accordingly.

In my Canadian office, every time I have a meeting with one or more of my management staff, I sense some level of worry among other staff members. I reassure everyone that we are a solid company, are in good shape financially, and that no-one is going to lose their job, but people are nervous. Jobs are scarce. I am grateful that we don't have to worry too much about the financial mess out there but I sure wouldn't ever want to become complacent.

There appears to be widespread hope (even in Canada) that somehow President Obama will use his superpowers and superior intellect to solve the worlds' problems. Don't count on it. A mess is a mess and will stay a mess until someone cleans it up. Throwing more money at problems will only delay the inevitable and nothing will be solved. Obama is smart, but he isn't necessarily wise. There is a big difference. Part of wisdom is being able to recognize what hasn't worked and to do away with it, or at least not repeat it. Wisdom often means acting not on expedience, but on the knowledge that it takes time and effort to build anything useful and lasting. Obama has no experience, has never done anything even remotely useful, and is surrounding himself with many 'more-of-the-same' type of politicians and advisers. And no, McCain wouldn't have done any better.

What to do? Move to Panama, friends. Live economically, relax, let the world go by and enjoy yourself. And. . . I can even help you with a place to live, at our Roca Milagro project. You can enjoy our community of freedom lovers and watch from afar as much of the world as we have known it collapses around us. One of my partner's wondered once if our project might not be sort of a Galt's Gulch. She might be on to something, especially in light of what is happening around the world.

So, will we share a drink together on your patio or mine?

Who Pulls Our Strings?

2008-12-31T11:13:00.004-05:00

My wife produces a monthly newsletter for one of my companies. She included a quote in the January, 2009 edition that in recent years has been credited to Mark Twain but which I personally don't recall ever reading in one of his books. It doesn't matter who actually said it or wrote it, it certainly is pertinent today: "Sometimes I wonder whether the world is run by smart people who are putting us on or by imbeciles who really mean it."

I can answer the question: Both.

I can also tell you that it doesn't really matter. Either way we are getting what we deserve for putting up with these idiots, for believing their pious proclamations and electing (and reelecting) them to office.

2009 is going to be an interesting year. I have always been an optimistic, glass half-full sort of person. That hasn't changed. Whatever happens, the human race will survive. We're tough. We're resilient. We just don't always have the best judgment when it comes to understanding what is best for us. What is best for us is individual responsibility, limited government, and goodwill towards our fellow man. What we have instead is passing the buck, government run amok, and hatred for anyone who looks, acts or thinks differently from ourselves.

I wish for everyone who drops in at this blog from time to time the very best for 2009 -- good health, a sense of humour about the world around us, and what matters more than anything else: the love and support of family and friends.

Happy New Year!

Merry Christmas from the Atavist

2008-12-19T09:46:00.003-05:00

Dear friends:

I don’t claim to be a religious person but have to admit that the secularization of Christmas and the marginalization of Christians generally is troubling to me. Christians are oft portrayed as intolerant, closed-minded and, dare I say it, stupid. Having grown up in a Christian home and having seen first-hand how my parents and others in our church community deported themselves, compared to many in the larger community, I can say that in my experience I have found Christians to be mostly tolerant, forgiving and inclusive of those shunned by others. Whatever my personal feelings might be, I don’t want the celebration to be styled as ‘Xmas’ or any other aberration. It will always be ‘Christmas’ to me.

So . . . I am not including the tropical Santa photograph above as a sop to secularism. Nor am I excluding a religious graphic as an anti-Christian statement. I just thought the image to be an interesting juxtaposition of Santa, with his North Pole attire, against a backdrop of tropical shrubbery.

I took the photograph above in Panama City during one of my many trips to the Republic of Panama over the last several years. The setting tickled my fancy and I couldn’t resist taking the photograph to show my friends back home in Canada.

We are living in an increasingly troubling world. Our economies are broken, our governments are trampling our rights and voters are delusional about what politicians and bureaucrats can do to provide remedy. We are in for an interesting ride in the next several years. The world will be quite different from what it was when we were all growing up. With the exception of the gadgetry that we all enjoy today, most of the changes that we will experience, even here in North America, will not be positive.

I know that this Christmas missive from me might seem a bit strange with its subtext of doom and gloom, but it is not my intention to frighten anyone or to promote any sense of hopelessness. I believe that the indomitable human spirit that has seen the world and the human race through so many crises in the past will be triumphant once again, and that during troubled times we should just do the best we can and be thankful for what we have, most especially friends and families.

From me and my family, to you and your family, I would like to express my heartfelt wish for a Very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. May good health and good sense be with you always.

Sieg Pedde
Christmas, 2008

Happy Thanksgiving

2008-11-27T10:43:00.002-05:00

Happy Thanksgiving to all my American friends. These are tough times, and there is much uncertainty about how our lives and fortunes will unfold in the days and months ahead. I wish you all the best and hope that all of us will always have much to be thankful for. We Canadians enjoyed our Thanksgiving turkey several weeks ago, but our thoughts are with you as you celebrate yours with family and friends.

It occurred to me that with the inevitable connection between Thanksgiving and turkeys, we might seek ways every Thanksgiving not only to have a turkey on every table, but to find ways to remove those other types of turkeys (the officious busybodies who, while claiming to have all the answers, screw things up for the rest of us) from political office.

Wouldn't that be nice!? Then we could all be doubly thankful.

Uncivil Defense

2008-11-25T15:39:00.005-05:00

It says, at the top of this Atavist blog page, that my ramblings herein are the ruminations of an unambiguous guy in an ambiguous world. It's true. I am a pretty straightforward guy. I know where I stand. I know what I like. I know what I don't like. I adhere to certain principles in my life and expect reciprocity from people I deal with. With me, what you see (and hear and read) is what you get.

I am, however, tactful. I don't blurt out the first thing that pops into my head. I try to couch things in terms that are as kind as possible, even if I am the bearer of bad news. Incivility, crassness, boorishness, are all things I despise. Why is it necessary, even in the interest of being direct and concise, to be crude and hurtful? I don't think it is necessary.

I have written before about the need of some people to transfer their frustrations onto others. It makes them feel better. No consideration is given, of course, to the fact that then someone else bears the frustration or hurt. Most people that I willingly associate with are smart, quick with a quip, and adept at verbal fencing. I enjoy exchanging jibes with people like this; it is done in a spirit of fun and everyone knows that there are boundaries. I have met some individuals in my life though who don't seem to understand that anything worth saying is worth saying politely and that not everything they perceive as a problem is in fact a real problem for someone else. Deliver me from such people. They suck the lifeblood out of everyone around them. At the very least, they are no fun. At worst, they pollute society.

We are increasingly becoming an uncivil society. I don't like it. It is difficult to avoid it. Do we need to become hermits to get away from it? Is that the only defense available?

The Die is Cast

2008-11-11T11:25:00.004-05:00

In an idle moment earlier today, I checked back on some old blog posts of mine to see if I had ever mentioned the potential for financial calamity or economic collapse in North America. I stopped looking through the Atavist archives at about midway through 2006. In past posts I had mentioned a number of times my fear of an eventual financial collapse and even discussed why I was concerned.

So, I saw the collapse coming a long time ago. So did some other individuals, mostly a few select newsletter writers. No main-stream economists or financial experts, and certainly no prominent politicians were among those who sounded alarms and warned people to get out of the financial markets, to de-leverage their investments, and to get out of debt.

Why not? Because we are a culture of fools who are always seeking greater fools to lead us. And when they lead us down the garden path, rape us and leave us for dead, we wait for them to come back to save and rehabilitate us. We have long given up independent, critical thought. We prefer instead to listen to 'experts'. We especially like experts who give us warm and fuzzy prognostications. We deserve what we get.

It amazes me is that now everyone, far and wide, is suggesting that we bail out this, subsidize that, prop up the rest, and then wait for things to get better, as surely they must because so many 'experts' are saying so.

Must things get better? No, at least not until all of the nonsense and financial excesses are purged from our political and economic systems. The experts are wrong. The politicians are wrong. The academics are wrong. Sure, there may well be some temporary improvements in some areas of our economies as things sort themselves out. Largely though, as our politicians meddle in things they know nothing about, the inevitable will only be delayed and the final results will be worse than if there were no attempts to 'help.' The die is cast. We're screwed. To protect ourselves and our families, we should all get out of debt, cut back on our expenses, then hang in there until everything falls apart and we can start over again.

Maybe, some day, we will stop listening to politicians and start thinking and acting for ourselves. That's not very likely though, is it?

Obama or McCain, it's all the same

2008-11-04T09:43:00.004-05:00

I'm not sure how I could have missed it, out of the many millions of words I have read in my life. I found a link to it today, via the blog of our Canadian hero, he of the nerves of steel and brass balls, Mr. Ezra Levant. Ezra understands the value of freedom of speech and the value of celebrating our individual differences from each other, rather than having us all made to be somehow 'equal' under some officially defined notion of fairness.

Today is election day in the United States. McCain and Obama are battling it out. Whatever happens, whoever wins, it is my belief that the United States is headed for a fate not too different from the Kurt Vonnegut nightmare, in his story Harrison Bergeron, linked to here. That story is what I read for the first time today.

God help us all.

We don't need to be controlled in the low-tech manner described by Vonnegut in his story. We are already controlled by idiots in high places, sometimes even well-intentioned idiots, telling us what to do and what to think. Or else.

Sadly, Canadians too suffer the same fate as the Bergerons and others in Vonnegut's story. In fact, all over the world, the lunatics are truly in control of the asylum.

Auto-pilot leads nowhere good

2008-09-24T08:52:00.006-04:00

I pulled up to the takeout window at my local Tim Hortons coffee shop this morning, as I do most days, and the attendant handed me a large coffee and asked for $1.40. That wasn't what I was expecting. I was taken aback somewhat as the staff there is usually very efficient. I usually order an extra large coffee and a raisin biscuit, the price of which is $2.30. I told the attendant that she had the wrong order. As she looked at me with confusion, I realized that it was my fault, not hers. I had driven right past the speaker box where one places an order and now that I was at the takeout window they thought I was the driver of the car behind me.

I had been lost in thought. I was on auto-pilot. My inattentiveness had caused me to skip an important step in my daily ritual and now, with considerable embarrassment, I realized that I must seem completely discombobulated to the attendant.

The attendant treated my apparent confusion with good humour. I got my coffee and my raisin biscuit. Not every lack of focus, however, ends as well.

That's life. So ist das Leben. We coast along, expecting to make it through each successive day without too many complications. Sometimes the universe unfolds as it should. Sometimes not.

I will be sure to pay more attention tomorrow.

Curmudgeons Everywhere

2008-09-22T14:21:00.005-04:00

I have great friends. I got an email over the weekend from one such person with the subject line: a gift from me to you. I couldn't imagine what kind of gift Mark might send me, or why for that matter, so I opened the email with some trepidation. I needn't have worried.

I love words and I especially love interesting words. I had mentioned to Mark once that I liked the word curmudgeon. He filed away that fact in his sizable store of grey matter and waited. Mark's company is involved in providing DNS services and he trades internet domains for fun, so he watched for domain names with curmudgeon as part of the name. When www.curmudgeon.ca came available, he pounced. Then he gave the domain to me. Not only that, when you go to that domain, you end up here at my Atavist blog. Neat, eh?

Thanks, Mark. I am now better able to let the world know that I am a a bad-tempered, difficult, cantankerous person.

The Delinquent Atavist

2008-09-19T13:18:00.003-04:00

I haven't been around much lately, have I? I've been busy dealing with the minutiae of our Panama Roca Milagro project and other fun stuff. The photograph above shows construction of the wooden cap that will adorn the main entrance way at Roca Milagro. Most of the main roads in the project are cut now and we are preparing the cul-de-sacs that the contractor left until last to complete. We are waiting for a permit to transport and use a huge rock crusher to produce gravel for our internal roads. And it is raining, more and more, as we enter the worst of the rainy season. That slows work down considerably.

I also took a week off to spend time with my cousin Friedhelm, his wife Brigitte and their daughter Sarah, who came to visit. Dr. Friedhelm Pedde, an archaeologist with the Free University of Berlin, gave a presentation at the University at Buffalo, New York, and I picked him and his family up there to spend some time with my family here in Ontario. I hadn't seen them since 1992, when I visited Germany. It was great to see them all and my family and I enjoyed their visit. Brigitte is an art historian and their daughter Sarah is an aspiring photographer.

It is getting colder here in Ontario and the days are getting shorter. Soon, I will be getting weird looks as I continue to wear the short-sleeved shirts and sandals over bare feet that I favour until my feet turn to icicles. I refuse to give in. I want my summer, dammit, even if I have to try to delude myself that it is still warm outside. I have been attending meetings recently with a financial adviser friend of mine who is suggesting to his clients that they invest in building lots in our project. Each time I show up, he glances down to make sure I am wearing shoes and socks. Don't worry, my friend, I won't embarrass you. But as soon as I leave those meetings, it's back to my usual, more comfortable, and more unusual attire.

What's happening out there in the financial markets and in the economies of the world? Things are falling apart. I have been writing for years about the excesses of our governments and about the foolishness of those investors who assume that there will always be a greater fool to buy their overpriced homes and stocks and other investments. There are interesting times ahead, folks. Strap yourselves in for a bumpy ride.

I'm ready. That doesn't mean, however, that I will enjoy the experience as things fall apart around us.

We're human beings. We never appear to learn from the past. It's a pity.

40 Years and Counting

2008-09-04T09:16:00.003-04:00

Sieg (left) and Al Pedde in an advertising photo taken in 1976 or so

It was 40 years ago today, on September 4th, 1968, that my brother and I started doing deliveries for clients in London, Ontario; he in his 1964 Volkswagen and I in my 1957 Volkswagen. I had started doing deliveries for select clients during the summer after my first year at the University of Western Ontario because I couldn't find a real job. When it seemed clear to me that there was a real business opportunity in becoming London's first messenger/courier service, I asked my brother Alfred to join me as partner. I bought out Al's interest in 1985, but I'm still here.

I could write a book about our experiences at Helix Courier. Maybe I will someday. We have had adventures aplenty over the years, enough to fill many seasons of a TV series based on our company. I even have a pitch ready. If you are a TV producer and want to talk, contact me. Think along the lines of an ensemble cast playing constant characters (management, operations, and drivers) at the company, with guest stars every week helping to tell the story of what happens between the time that a delivery order is called in and the document or parcel actually arrives at its destination. What was in the parcel? What news, good or bad, was relayed in the document? Think of the best and worst circumstances that might arise -- we've experienced them all.

I have never regretted dropping out of school to operate a courier company. It has been very good to me. I have an excellent staff and crew of drivers to whom I am eternally grateful. Because of them, I have the time to do other things like develop property in Panama and engage in other projects that attract my interest.

It has been a wild ride. I'm looking forward to the next 40 years.

Happy 16th Birthday, Zachary!

2008-08-09T08:04:00.004-04:00

Today is my son's 16th birthday. I wrote a letter to him, some of which I will share below. He will either save the letter for posterity or not, it doesn't much matter I guess. At age sixteen, any influence his mother and I might have on how he develops into adulthood is pretty much over. I hope we have done a good job.

Dear Zachary:

Today is August 9, 2008. We are celebrating a very special day, your 16^th birthday. I turned sixteen in 1961 and I wonder sometimes, and I’m sure you do too, whether any of my experiences, and those of your considerably younger mother, are even remotely relevant to the way we have tried to raise you into the fine young man you are today.

I think our experiences and our values are relevant. Your mother and I take great pleasure whenever we are told by teachers, parents and other people we know, how nice a person you are. Our experiences and our values definitely do have some part to play in that.

Our genes too have played an important part. You have your mother’s genial and easy-going nature when it is appropriate and my intensity and focus when you feel challenged. It is a toss-up whether you or I would win a challenge of wills. The secret, dear Zachary, is to know when to stand up and be counted and when to back down from confrontation. Even someone with your intellect needs the wisdom of experience and enough time on earth to know whether something is right or appropriate or if it is worth the inevitable fight that results if you won’t back down.

But you really don’t cause us much trouble, do you? Mom and I both know that. You are a very special kid and always have been. We are proud of you in a way that you will only begin to understand when you are yourself a parent. We love you because of who you are, because of your potential to be whatever you wish to be, and because you will live on and represent the genes bestowed on you by your mother and father, long after we are gone. And then, when you are ready and have found that perfect mate of your own, you will pass those genes on to another generation. We will live on through you and your children, as you yourself will one day.

This is a very special birthday. We could have given you a car, or some other expensive gift to mark the occasion. Instead, mom and I are going to give you a big hug and a big ‘Thank You!!’ for coming into our lives and enriching our remaining time here on earth. We could do no better than having you as our child and we will always be grateful that you came along.

And we will love you always, unconditionally.

Happy 16^th birthday, son.

Love,

Dad and Mom

A Hoarse Horse

2008-08-06T11:13:00.002-04:00

Were the horse in the photograph above able to count, it would take him years, I'm sure, to count all of the rocks on our Roca Milagro property. I love rocks. I love the rock walls we are building with the rocks. But there is always the possibility of too much of a good thing, right?

We need gravel during our infrastructure development at the site, lots of gravel. Rather than trucking in gravel from elsewhere, we are bringing in a rock crusher to make gravel from some of our gazillions of rocks. Don't worry, we're not going to run out. The counting horse will still make himself hoarse while counting our rocks, even if we grind up and crush a few thousand of them.

What gets me is that these boulders, some the size of a good-sized automobile, are purported to have been expelled by Volcan Baru, several dozens of miles away from our site. Wow. I'm sure glad the volcano is sleeping. And I'm especially glad I wasn't around when it belched out those rocks hundreds of years ago. On the plus side, we have enough rocks to keep on building rock walls for years to come.

I wonder if the horse in the photograph above is named Henry, and if he dances the waltz. Geezers like me will 'get' that reference, younger readers may have to do some Googling to 'get it.'

Another one of life's great puzzles

2008-08-01T13:58:00.002-04:00

Cattle eat grass, right? Or maybe the occasional leaf or other vegetable matter, or perhaps some prepared feed designed to fatten them up. But have you ever seen a cow eat a survey stake made of PVC plastic piping? Not I.

The cow above is chewing on one of those survey stakes. So were many of its friends and neighbours in the herd. We had let some cattle on our Panama land to keep the grass down during road construction but the exercise, instead of netting us some extra cash in grazing fees, lost us a chunk of cash. Yep, we have to pay a surveyor to replace all of those stakes at the corners of each building lot and along the roads. The damn cows even ate lot markers, little plastic signs telling us the number of each surveyed building lot. So, the cattle had to go. I wonder if they got indigestion.

We have all heard the 'grass is greener' cliche, but these stakes weren't even on the other side of the fence, nor were they green.

Maybe cows really are as stupid as the many jokes about them make them out to be.

Serendipity

2008-07-29T14:47:00.003-04:00

The word "serendipity" arose more than once on my recent trip to Panama. The two partners who travelled with me and I were struck by how some things just sort of fell together for us. It was a welcome change from the usual frustrations I face while trying to do business in a country where the people are lovely, the climate and scenery are beautiful, but customer service and any sense of business responsibility are almost non-existent.

I have been trying to find trees to plant at our development for about 18 months, perhaps longer. I have written emails and made telephone calls. My Spanish speaking friend and associate has done the same. Many calls, many emails. Promises of help were made by the occasional person we contacted but after each promise no further information or help was forthcoming. Now, finally, after all this time, we have found our trees. There is a large, government operated tree nursery about an hour's drive from our development. Yippee!

Not only have we found our trees, we have found a local man in Boquete who is going to work with us to plant the trees. He is also going to help us build a greenhouse and site nursery on our property and to make walking trails around our site, especially in what we call the jungle area down by the river that runs alongside much of our property. He is a graduate of an American university, really knows his stuff, and will be a great help to us. We met him serendipitously, by accident. He owns the hotel where we stayed on this trip.

See? To me this illustrates the fact that it never pays to give up hope. Eventually, just what you need will pop up from just around the corner. Of course it might happen after you are already dead or have spent yourself into bankruptcy while seeking a solution, but the answer is out there somewhere. All you need to do is to look for it, to recognize it, and be ready when it arrives.

Wearing rose-coloured glasses might help too.

A Short Story

2008-07-28T15:19:00.004-04:00

Larry, Curly and Moe went to Panama. Oops, wrong Three Stooges. OK, Herb, Wilf and Sieg went to Panama. There was much buffoonery, but surprisingly some actual business was transacted. Then Kent arrived. Hilarity abounded. Sides ached. Many good meals were eaten and a bottle of wine or two were consumed.

Soon the trip was over. Goodbyes were said. Everyone went home. The end.

There was, of course, much more. But you are going to have to check back in coming days to find out what really happened.

Another Milestone

2008-07-25T15:41:00.005-04:00

It's my birthday today. Age 63, if you must know. Don't tell anyone.

I'm still in Boquete, Panama and staying at the Villa Marita, a charming place owned by a man named Rodrigo and operated by his charming daughter Ana. Two of my partners, Herb and Wilf are here with me.

Wilf asked Ana yesterday if she would jump out of a giant taco in celebration of my birthday. She giggled at the bizarre image that suggestion must have created in her mind, but declined. Wilf has a great sense of humour but, frankly, I think Ana has more sense. She and her father have been perfect hosts.

I am rested, psyched about all of the great things we have accomplished on this trip, and am sad to be leaving Panama again so soon. By Sunday night I will be back home. I miss my family, but Panama does hold a special place in my heart and it is always diffcult to leave here.

Pictures and details when I get back to Canada and get caught up again.

Up, up and away

2008-07-11T12:14:00.002-04:00

Like Superman in the old black and white TV days, I will be "up, up and away" to Panama this weekend. It's business, mostly, and maybe a little fun too, if I can spare the time.

The graphic above shows the layout of our Roca Milagro development near Rovira Arriba in Panama. It has been a little over two years since we bought the property. Now, road construction is underway at the site and things are moving ahead nicely. Hurrah!

I used to own a Superman belt buckle when I was much younger. It helped hold up my jeans for years. It's not that I have ever seen myself as superhuman, it was more a reminder to me that in order to move ahead and accomplish anything in life one generally has to expend superhuman effort. Do nothing, gain nothing. Do a bit, gain a bit. Do a lot, gain a lot. I have always believed that.

It helps to have people around you that you can depend on, individuals who have skills and talents you personally don't possess. I have been fortunate in that respect. I am grateful. Super-grateful.

I had a chat with my son a few days ago. I explained to him that I have this huge 'to-do' list and that one of my greatest fears is that I won't be able to do all of the things I want to do, visit all the places I wish to, experience all of the pleasures that I would like. Getting older, to use the common vernacular, sucks. Never having done anything interesting or exciting or even crazy (to some observers) would, I suspect, suck more. I have done a lot, travelled a lot, experienced a lot. I have stubbed my toes and bumped my head many times. That is how we learn. Life, as they say, is not a rehearsal. We have one chance at it and then we die. Happy thought, isn't it?

I'm not planning on departing this earth anytime soon.

I am looking forward to seeing our project, seeing some of my partners again, and meeting some new people while I am in Panama. Maybe I'll have time to go riding, if I can find someone who will lend or rent me a horse. That would be nice.

Unlike Superman, I can't fly. I can still walk, but riding is more fun. Excuse me while I add finding a horse to ride in Panama to my to-do list.

Pecking for fun and profit

2008-07-09T13:02:00.004-04:00

I was standing at my kitchen window a few days ago, watching as a finch repeatedly pecked away at a floor mat my wife had left on the deck to dry. The bird was trying, without much success, to pry away a few fibers with which to build or line its nest. Picking up blades of grass or other detritus suitable to its intentions would have been much easier but the allure of clean, white threads made the bird willing to work so much harder.

We humans are like that, aren't we? When we are motivated by desire for something we really want, we are willing to work ever so hard and long to get it.

Or at least that is the way it used to be.

I think that these days we are so much into instant gratification that we want everything right now. Usually, the only way for many of us to get something right now is to borrow money or make a promise to trade something of equal value in the future. Our perception then tells us that the scales are no longer balanced; we have want we want now but we are paying for the thing well into the future and are usually paying interest for the privilege of instant gratification.

I prefer to buy what I can afford, pay for it and forget about it. The resultant peace of mind makes the wait worth it.

This weekend, I am off to Panama again. I'll be gone two weeks. There is a lot happening on our Roca Milagro project and I can't wait to see the physical changes since I was there last, in February. Two of my Canadian friends and partners are coming along and a good time will be had by all.

I am in discussions with friends and associates to form an investment syndicate some time in September or October with the express intent of investing in Panama and other Central and South American countries. Most of what we propose to do will be land banking but we may also be interested in purchasing hospitality businesses or residential rental properties. I don't know yet what the buy-in will be to participate in our syndicate, probably $50,000 or so with ongoing monthly contributions yet to be determined. If there is any interest in this beyond the core group of investors we already have, we will consider extending the opportunity to participate to others.

I hope to take a lot of photographs while in Panama and will post what I can when I can.

Vince has left the building.

2008-06-30T09:37:00.008-04:00

Vince Miller with 'Simpson' during December, 2003, visit at the Pedde home.

My friend Vince Miller passed away at 8:15 am, this past Saturday morning, June 28th, 2008. He will be missed. For those of you who knew Vince or are familiar with the International Society for Individual Liberty that he headed, here is more information on Vince and his accomplishments.

I met Vince in 1973, I think. A group of us was walking back to a Libertarian Party of Canada meeting of some kind after lunch at a Toronto restaurant, and Vince happened to be walking beside me. Rather than talking specifically about the meetings we were attending and the objectives we hoped to achieve, we spoke about guns and shooting. Vince loved both. He knew more about guns than I did and I listened with great interest as he described his favourite sidearms. One of the things that had been on my mental to-do list ever since was to go shooting with Vince. I guess it's too late now.

Vince left Canada years ago to take up residence in the United States. For a few years I didn't see him at all and then at some point we reconnected. He began to spend a day or two after Christmas with my family each year. He had relatives in and around London, Ontario, where I live, and would visit with them first and then spend at least one night with us. We would stay up late into the night, drink wine, and decry the increasing abuse of individual rights by governments everywhere and bemoan the human tendency to look to government for solutions to problems real and imaginary. And we celebrated the fact that at least a few people, world-wide, understand that the single most important principle in the world is freedom: freedom to do what you want, say what you want, associate with whom you want, buy and sell what you want, all with the caveat that your rights end where someone else's begin. Those were special evenings. My wife and I looked forward to them. My son Zachary was born in 1992, and as he grew up he too looked forward to Vince's visits.

My wife and I were discussing yesterday how long it has been since Vince first began his annual visits with us. She has a much better memory about these things than I and tells me that we went to see him in Richmond, Virginia (where he lived before moving to the San Francisco area) in 1987 or 1988. She thinks that he was already visiting with us before then. Wow. I wonder how many bottles of wine we shared, how many of the word's problems we solved on those evenings (only to forget those solutions the following morning) and how many derogatory statements we made about governments far and wide and how much derision we heaped on the fools who clamour for more and more centralization of power and thus enable the inevitable consequence of diminished liberty.

Vince, we will miss you. You were a good man and you left your mark on the world. Rest in peace.

A Mind is a Terrible Thing to Waste

2008-06-23T11:55:00.003-04:00

I get to meet some interesting people in my travels and projects. One such person is Miguel Bernard. That's him in the photograph displayed above, playing King of the Hill on one of the many rocks in our Roca Milagro development. Miguel lives in the Boquete area of Chiriqui province in Panama and our company uses his services extensively as interpretor and facilitator. That is one side of Miguel.

Another side of Miguel is what he does to help underprivileged kids in the Boquete area. He heads an organization called Panama United Foundation which exists to allow sponsorship of children with help to pay for expenses associated with going to school: tuition, books, uniforms, etc. A PDF brochure is avilable here.

I support Miguels's efforts, both in principle and financially. If you have some cash to spare and an interest in helping kids better themselves, I encourage you to donate to the Panama United Foundation. Every dollar helps.

Vince Miller

2008-06-18T10:46:00.003-04:00

My friend Vince Miller is in the hospital in California with what was originally thought to be pneumonia but is instead coccidiomycosis or Valley Fever. He is on a respirator and not doing well.

I met Vince in 1973 or so. We met in Toronto around the time the Libertarian Party of Canada was formed and he has been involved with causes of individual liberty most of his adult life. He now heads the California-based International Society for Individual Liberty. He is a man of many accomplishments and someone I have always been proud to call friend. Virtually every Christmas Vince makes the trek from California to London, Ontario, to see relatives and he always spends a night or two with my family while he is here.

So, Vince you old rascal, get off that damn respirator and get well. Chrystyna and Zachary and I have a room for you again this Christmas and a couple of bottles of wine with your name on them. You have hundreds of friends around the world and every single one of us is pulling for you.

I want to hear some good news!

For anyone who drops in here and who knows Vince and/or his work and wants to help out with a donation, go here: ISIL.org.

Another tardy post

2008-06-03T13:24:00.002-04:00

The photograph above shows the progress being made on the 'entrada' at our Roca Milagro development in Rovira Arriba, Republic of Panama. The view is from inside the development and looking towards the road coming from Rovira Arriba. Rains are slowing progress on road building and other infrastructure development on the site, but my partners in the area are working valiantly to cope and to make us all proud.

We will be selling building lots soon. If anyone is interested in looking at a very basic temporary brochure describing Roca Milagro, you can find one here in PDF format. Better and more comprehensive information will be coming soon and our website at www.rocmilagro.com will be completely revamped by July sometime. If you, or someone you know, is interested in building a vacation or retirement home in the mountains of Panama, near the Costa Rican border, or if you simply want to invest in a building lot or two to hold on to for a while, check us out. We are a group of industrious and freedom-loving Canadians, Americans and Panamanians and we would love to be joined by others who want to own their own slice of heaven. How about some of you from other parts of our ever-shrinking world? Join us!

Pay it forward . . .

2008-05-09T12:03:00.002-04:00

(click on image to enlarge)

The rainy season is coming in Panama and at our Roca Milagro development there is frantic activity to get things done before the annual deluge. In the top photograph, the entrada takes shape, and in the lower picture a worker works inside one of the columns making up the entrada. The insides of the columns will be filled with rubble and then capped with poured concrete, formed into planters.

Developing a project of this size can be daunting, frustrating, sometimes infuriating, but ultimately, we all hope, satisfying and rewarding. I am lucky to have a wonderful group of partners who are supportive and helpful. Thank you all -- you know who you are!

I don't like the passage of time because at my age it simply marks the inexorable march towards oblivion, but when this project is complete I will be happy to walk through all 108 acres of it and revel in what a group of dedicated individuals can accomplish. We still have a long way to go, but we are making significant progress, finally.

I was thinking back today to the days of my early teenage years and remembered a particular classmate who was shunned by others because his family was very poor, he always wore the same clothes, rarely bathed, and was cruelly called "Doodlebugs" by everyone. I was probably the only one who ever talked to him at length and who tried to treat him like a human being. I will always remember the gratitude in his eyes. I won't mention his real name here, but I learned a lot from him. I learned that my parents were right when they told me that a kind word, an act of compassion, a supportive gesture can go a long way. I try to act that way still, even though sometimes I really don't feel like it. I am particularly grateful that people around me are generally kind and supportive of me and projects I direct, including this one. It makes my life and my job much easier.

In that spirit, let's all 'pay it forward,' and extend kindness wherever and whenever we can. It will help make the world a better place, and folks -- the world needs a lot of help.

Have a great weekend.

More Roca Milagro

2008-05-07T11:05:00.004-04:00

(click photos to enlarge)

Construction methods in Panama seem primitive compared to what I am used to in Canada. The finished product, whether house or warehouse, usually looks just fine, but the steps getting there are certainly not what I am used to. In the top photo, a workman constructs one of the pillars that will become part of the entrance gate to our Roca Milagro site. The structure will be massive, with a 20 X 20 foot space to drive vehicles as large as cement trucks through and will be surrounded with our ubiquitous rock walls containing shrubs and flowers. It will be topped with an elegant wooden cap made of Nispero, a strong and durable wood harvested in Panama.

The bottom photo shows a road bed taking shape inside the development, heading into the site towards the Rio David and spectacular views of Volcan Baru. The cloud cover in the photograph obscures the views but is in itself very pretty.

We are considering building a pyramid on our site of the variety common to Central and South America, but of course much smaller, say 10 X 10 meters at the base and with about the same height. There would be an observation deck at the top. If anyone knows anything about such structures that might be helpful to us, please let me know.

Rocky Roads

2008-05-06T14:00:00.000-04:00

(Click photo to enlarge)

Finally, after waiting and waiting and waiting and lots of frustration, we have the actual permits in hand to begin infrastructure development at our Roca Milagro development in Panama. Unlike many developments in the region that seem to be selling hype and hope in an attempt to raise enough capital to pay for everything, we have no debt and have enough funds on hand to do most of what we want to do. We have paid for the actual property, all the work we have done to date and we still have enough money in the bank to pay for the equipment and materials and labour we will need to finish building over three kilometers of roads, bridges over our streams, drainage culverts, and to lay pipes and conduits for our water and electrical supply. Now, all we need is to get the work done. Had we received permits in a timely fashion, we could have been finished with all that by now and would be selling lots. As it is, we're running a little behind.

Oh well.

I could be selling many more shares and partnerships in the development now. It wasn't like that at the beginning. I always find it strange that some people get 'the vision' of an enterprise before anything is even begun and others wait until much later, sometimes having to pay much more to participate and missing out on the really big profits that early participants enjoy. As it is, we have been able to put together an excellent group of investors. There is a very strong individualist, capitalist, libertarian contingent, with a few token more moderate individuals who somehow still get along with the more radical among us. Who would have thought, thirty or forty years ago, that individualists would be considered radical? What is the world coming to?

We have a crew of men working full time on building yet more rock walls to complement the several kilometers of walls that already exist on the site. Why? Well, we like the look. And we have to do something with all the hundreds of thousands of rocks that are strewn all over the landscape. And as we grade the road surfaces as seen in the second photograph above, the machines dig up yet more rocks. This may turn out to be one of those never-ending projects because it seems as though we will never run out of rocks. Oh well. As long as we don't run out of money. I guess that won't happen, but at some time we may run out of patience.

Over the coming weeks I hope to make more frequent appearances here and hope to get back to reading some of my favourite blogger friends as well. I miss that.

Sweet Dreams

2008-04-09T09:07:00.002-04:00

Driving to work this morning, I listened to a compilation CD I had made, featuring among others, guitarists Roy Buchanan (1939 - 1988) and Canada's own Jeff Healey who died last month at age forty-one. Buchanan is someone mostly known to guitar freaks like me. He was greatly under appreciated, lived a troubled and tormented life, and hung himself in a jail cell after being arrested for 'public intoxication.' Healey died of cancer. Neither lived long enough.

I have been thinking over past days of how we spend a lifetime trying to accomplish something significant, to leave a legacy or some indication that we have been here, and then suddenly life is over. For everyone else life goes on. We push up daisies. Buchanan and Healey at least live on through their music.

Sweet Dreams, Jeff and Roy. We miss you.

'Rolling Up the Rim,' but forgetting to roll out the red carpet

2008-03-28T08:32:00.006-04:00

'Roll Up the Rim To Win' is an annual ritual in Canada, courtesy of the Tim Hortons coffee shop chain. You drink your coffee, roll up the rim, then read underneath what you have won. Usually, naturally, you have won nothing. Occasionally, you might win a free coffee or a doughnut, or even a TV or a car. It so happens that I have won a bunch of free coffees and doughnuts and so . . .

As I do nearly every working day while I am in Canada, I approached the drive-through window of a local (Highbury Avenue, near Cheapside) Tim Hortons this morning, and this is the conversation that ensued:

Disembodied Speaker Voice: Tim Hortons, may I (blah, blah, blah)?

Caffeine-starved Me: Extra large coffee, one cream, and a raisin biscuit, please.

Disembodied Speaker Voice: That will be $2.21. Please drive through.

Caffeine-starved Me: Can I pay for that with my 'Roll Up The Rim' thingie?

Disembodied Speaker Voice: What?

Caffeine-starved Me: Can I pay for that with my 'Roll Up The Rim' thingie?

Disembodied Speaker Voice: Pay for what?

Caffeine-starved Me: (Stunned silence, as I wonder if I have accidentally stumbled into 1.) a parallel universe even more screwed up than our own, or 2.) some weird church where a female priest was asking me for which of my many sins I wished to buy absolution.

Disembodied Speaker Voice: Pay for what, the coffee or the biscuit?

Caffeine-starved Me: Oh. Both

Disembodied Speaker Voice: You can only pay for the coffee with Roll Up the Rim , not the raisin biscuit.

Caffeine-starved Me: Never mind, I'll just pay for everything with cash.

Disembodied Speaker Voice: OK.

OK. Courtesy of Roll Up The Rim, I have a bunch of free doughnuts coming, but I don't eat doughnuts any more. I am trying to cut back on my sugar consumption. As far as I know, a raisin biscuit costs about the same as a doughnut, perhaps less, so why can't I get what I want, instead of having to take something I don't want? Who makes up these rules? Is there a Tim Hortons enforcer who drives around and cancels the lucrative franchise of any operator who breaks the rules? Do store managers or franchisees have any discretion over these matters? Is it worth pissing off someone who spends probably $1,000 annually at Tim Hortons over a ten or twenty cent issue?

I don't think so.

I don't care about saving a few cents. I am long past that stage. What is at issue for me is that no-one thinks creatively any more. Employees aren't trusted enough to act with any discretion and rarely get the training they need. Training should encompass not only how to pour the coffee but also cover the fact that customers are valuable and need to be cultivated and appreciated. That is a fact that few business establishments and their employees really understand any more.

Rant over. I just finished my coffee and, naturally, rolled up the rim. What did it say underneath? "Please Play Again." That's probably a good thing. What would I do if I won yet another free doughnut? The ones I have already are no good to me.

Well Said!

2008-03-25T15:46:00.002-04:00

I am trying to catch up on my blog reading and today came across a Hoosierboy post that is a very interesting read. Go here: Confessions of a Bigot. Nicely said, Hoosierboy!

Onward

2008-03-25T14:01:00.004-04:00

I can't believe that it has been two weeks since I wrote my last blog post. Every time I go to Panama, I come back reinvigorated with a long list of things that need to get done, so I have been very busy, immersed in stuff. Isn't 'stuff' a neat word? It can act as a lazy person's verbal shortcut; a descriptor used when there is no time (or talent) for elaboration. So, I have been working on stuff. Lots of stuff. Boring stuff, exciting stuff, even some disappointing stuff. How's that? Is that enough detail?

No? Okay then: Here's a little more. Cocktails in Boquete appears to be dead. I say "appears to be" because I suppose there is some hope of a reincarnation somewhere and somewhen, but not right now. Two parties are in dispute and we, the Canadian investors, are caught in the middle. It is not a big thing for us, financially, but it is disappointing because Cocktails, in the few short days of its life, was a fun and vibrant place. I will miss it. Still . . . Next! Or, as one of my Canadian partners put it: "We'll keep poking along. Shit happens. Onward."

I have never been one for post mortems. When something is dead, why agonize over its demise? It's gone. It's time for another chapter or at the very least another verse in the same chapter. I was having a logo designed for the bar by graphics students at a local college and when I get it I will still look for an opportunity to use it in the future, hopefully in a building I own (with my partners, if they still want another go-round after this experience) and with no strange entanglements with landlords and no bizarre supply arrangements. I will miss 'Pete.' He is off somewhere regrouping. I wish him well.

And, so life goes on. It is another cold and dreary day in London, Ontario, but I am listening to some gypsy jazz, mostly by Bireli Lagrene or The Rosenberg Trio, and that is keeping me warm. Now, if only the sun would shine.

Dallying with Dali

2008-03-10T15:11:00.004-04:00

The clocks moved one hour ahead this past weekend, because of the beginning of Daylight Savings Time. Spring forward, fall back. That's how I remember which way to turn the clocks. When fall come back again, all too soon, back go the clocks to our Eastern Standard Time setting. Pretty straight forward, no?

Not in my home. In the spring and fall of every year, I spend a few days trying to figure out what time it really is. In my world, setting all the clocks in the house to within a millisecond or two of the official Atomic Time would appear to make sense. Since my wife sets all the clocks, however, we do things her way.

No two clocks in the house are set at the same time. Some display something close to the real time, others don't. Some clocks are off by ten minutes or more. My wife likes to be on time, so having clocks display a time that is later than it really is helps her leave early and arrive everywhere on time. Personally, I would just leave ten minutes early, but that is just me.

My wife's idiosyncrasy is largely harmless. After a few days of trying to figure out which clocks are two, seven or ten minutes fast, I get the hang of it and life goes on.

We all have our peccadilloes, some harmless, some perhaps not so. Why do we humans need to try and fool ourselves about things? Why do we need so many coping mechanisms to survive? Why do we have superstitions? Why do we behave in ways guaranteed to be counter-productive or even harmless to ourselves?

I don't know.

I think I've run out of time to write right now, but I'm not sure. Does anyone have a watch, in particular a time piece with the correct time?

I'm Back in Canada (Boo Hoo)

2008-03-05T11:17:00.005-05:00

I'm back in Canada, just in time to experience yet another snow storm. Nuts. And apparently there is another one brewing somewhere out there and will be heading this way soon.

As usual, I had a great time in Panama. I met two partners in our Roca Milagro project that I had never met before. I am very particular about with whom I do business, and was pleased to find that the gentlemen in question are as good a fit into our organization as I had hoped. They are nice to spend time with as well. I personally screen and approve everyone who comes on board as a shareholder and in the case of these two men had to rely on telephone and email exchanges to make my judgment.

It appears that we have no more shares to sell in our company. Several existing shareholders, after visiting our site, decided our project was such a good opportunity that they decided to buy up the few remaining shares. We have a really great bunch. Most of us had meals together every day and several of us would drop in at Cocktails in Boquete, in which another Roca Milagro shareholder and I are partners. I haven't laughed so much in years.

There were disappointments too. Things sometimes move at a snail's pace in Panama. Although we managed to improve the road between Rovira Arriba and our development site on time, the approvals we are waiting for to begin road construction inside the development itself hadn't arrived by the time I left Panama. We have graders and bulldozers and dump trucks and rollers and who-knows-what-else waiting, but we can't make a move without that final stamp of approval. We are now told that it should be forthcoming this week. Let's hope.

I met some great new people, including Pete, my partner in the Cocktails in Boquete bar and one of his delightful (and pretty) bartenders, Sandy. Pete hired two more bartenders, Yaris and Maria, after I left. I will have to wait until my next visit to meet them.

Sandy

Yaris

Maria

The trip was too short. I didn't accomplish everything that I had hoped to, so I guess that means that I will be heading back soon, unless I can delegate some of the chores to my partners already living in Panama. Should I? Or should I simply hop on a plane again at the earliest opportunity and take care of things myself? Hmmmmm, let me think . . .

Eduard Pedde, R.I.P.

2008-03-04T08:16:00.005-05:00

Julius, Eduard and Adolf Pedde, ca. 1971

Pedde Brothers, sometime in 1930's:

Eduard, Adolf, Otto
Gustav, Julius
_____________________________________________________

I’m not hooked up to the internet as I write this. I don’t know when I will be able to post these words, but I do want to write down my thoughts. It is late at night, February 27, 2008.

I am still in Boquete, Panama, but will be flying from David to Panama City tomorrow, and then from there back to Toronto the following morning. I have had a great time in Panama, but there is a place, aside from being home with my family, where I would also like to be right now: Kelowna, British Columbia. That’s where my last remaining uncle, from my father’s side of the family, lived. He died yesterday. He was ninety-eight years old, having reached that remarkable milestone last December 31.

My uncle Eduard was a kind, gentle man. The five Pedde brothers who made it into adulthood were like that. I met four of the men. I liked them all. Gustav, the oldest brother, I never met. He disappeared during World War II and was never seen again. My father Julius was next, then (I'm not really sure of the order) Eduard, Otto and Adolf. Now there are none. Of fourteen siblings, one sister, Maria, survives in Germany. Six siblings grew old, one died as a young man in World War II, seven more died in infancy.

Horst and Richard, I wish I could be with you. Your father was a good man. I remember the many times I stayed with your family when you were all still living in Toronto. I have fond memories of your father that I will carry with me until I too pass on. I am in Panama right now and simply can't make it to the funeral, but my thoughts are with you.

Eduard Pedde, RIP.

Hellos and Goodbyes

2008-02-26T21:28:00.004-05:00

We had a picnic/barbecue at our Roca Milagro development site on Saturday. The Staff family, relatives of the man from whom we bought the property and who is now one of our partners, came from as far away as Panama City, a 6-hour drive from our location. Tables were set up in the orange grove, in the shade of a huge mango tree, and we ate (and ate and ate) delicious Panamanian food and the usual North American barbecue fare of hotdogs and hamburgers for those who were so inclined.

A couple of local Panamanian politicians attended, as did neighbours of our property, suppliers and assorted friends.

It was an emotional event for the Staff family. Parties and celebrations have been held on the property for decades. Now the property belongs to a development corporation and these events will have to be held elsewhere, right? No. Not on my watch. My partners and I have welcomed the Staff family to continue using the orange grove for their family events as long as they want to.

My partners and I owe a lot to the Staff family. From the very beginning, they have welcomed us into their homes. They have helped us in so many ways and I will always be grateful. Carmen, Monica, and all of the aunts and cousins and friends who worked so hard to create this memorable barbecue for the Roca Milagro corporation, thank you so much. When we build our own homes on the site, you will be as welcome there as we have been in yours.

The little gentleman shown in the photo at the top of this post is Jorge Staff, one-year-old son of Monica and grandson of Otto “Nacho” Staff. The photo below is of Alisson Staff, a granddaughter of Nacho. She is one of nine finalists of thousands of competitors in Canto Comigo, a Panamanian contest similar to American Idol. Good luck, Alisson!

I will have much more to write about Panama when I get back to Canada. Right now, time is at a premium.

Mark: That outbound email fix doesn’t work. It’s probably me, but I have followed all of the steps in your instructions. Honest. I will catch you up when I get back. I will also talk to you about Walk the Talk.

Stuff is Happening

2008-02-21T12:31:00.007-05:00

Even in Panama things happen. Eventually.

Two-hundred-and-some-odd truckloads of 'tosca', a gravel and sand mix, have been dumped on the road between Rovira Arriba and our Roca Milagro site. The photograph above shows a grader spreading it out over the one and a half kilometer distance. It will then be compacted and will be our contribution to the Rovira Arriba and Rovira Abajo communities. Aren't we nice? It will, of course, also mean that those who buy lots from us won't be breaking axles on the former ruts and potholes.

The gate/entranceway area has been graded. Because there are already massive stone walls everywhere on the property, we want to stay consistent with that theme. Stone masons are now building similar walls at the approach to where the entranceway to the community will be. That process is shown in the photograph above.

I am sitting right now in our Cocktails in Boquete bar. My partner Pete, the guy who actually runs the place, is shown in the photograph above. He is an interesting and colourful character and we get along well. I like his taste in art too . . . nudge, nudge, wink, wink. All we have to do now is make some money with the bar. I'm sure that will come eventually.

More as I have time.

Note to Mark: Outbound email relay isn't working here, so I'll connect when I get back, unless you know of a magic fix that hasn't yet occurred to me.

Cocktails in Boquete

2008-02-19T14:49:00.002-05:00

I met my partner in the Cocktails in Boquete bar yesterday, for the first time. His name is Pete. He's the crazy guy who started to build a bar in Boquete, Panama, against all odds and who welcomed Mark and John and me as partners. Mark and John: Pete's cool. Good guy, lots of ideas, pleasant, articulate, funny. My type of guy. No, I don't want to marry him. But he will be a good business partner.

I call Pete crazy because anyone who starts anything new, especially in a place like Panama, has to be at least slightly loony. Getting anything done involves lots of pleading, patience, and if you believe in such a thing, prayer. Sometimes, it seems, divine intervention is necessary to get anything done.

Pete, you did a great job. Thank you. The bar is going to be popular, successful, and you are the reason why.

There are some photos of the bar on the website at www.boquetecocktails.com. Pete has been using the bar's website as a blog to chronicle his progress (and often frustrations) in building the bar. I will have lots of photographs when I return to Canada in two weeks.

Panama is changing quickly. Lots is happening. Irresponsible people do stupid things and cause problems for those who follow. Some developers have apparently screwed up with infrastructure projects and have caused the government here to enact legislation to remedy the problem. As is usually the case, the legislation creates more (or worse) problems than existed before. Governments excel in using bazookas to kill mosquitoes. Then, to make it worse, someone has to either pick up the tab or deal with costly new 'improvements' that are quite unnecessary.

The cost of our land development project suddenly jumped by $400,000 because some developers have been taking shortcuts and not doing things properly. To prevent these things in the future, every development now has to meet new standards, whether or not they make any sense. In our case, the changes amount to a huge waste of money, but then the bureaucrats won't be paying paying the bills. They never do. Oh well. What else is new? At least I can go to Cocktails in Boquete and get myself a stiff drink if I need one.

I don't get fazed by these things. Life is a complex affair and one deals with complications. End of story.

I am having a great time here in Panama. The weather is great. Progress is being made on our development. The bar is open for service. I have met some great new people. What could be better?

I will try to post more over the coming days.

Roca Milagro Entrance Gate

2008-02-16T12:51:00.002-05:00

My friend Perry did the artist's concept drawing of the entranceway to Roca Milagro. Pretty cool, eh? Now, all we have to do is build it.

Off to Panama again

2008-02-15T12:12:00.004-05:00

I haven't quite fallen from the face of the earth, but I have been very busy. Sunday morning, it's off to Panama for nearly two weeks, and I have been preparing for the trip.

My partner Phil tells me that the road we are improving between Rovira Arriba and our Roca Milagro site is coming along nicely. There are, if I remember correctly, over 250 truckloads of gravel involved, considerable grading and rolling, and when it is all done it will be a very nice road indeed. It is our gift to the community and an assurance that our property owners won't face a bumpy drive. Grading equipment is on our site as well, and crews are grading the front gate area and taking out sections of the massive stone walls where necessary to allow the planned interior roads to pass through.

Barbecue supplies and drinks have been purchased for the big party we're having on the site on the 23rd, and I'm looking forward to meeting friends, neighbours, suppliers, and of course our own shareholders there.

I will be taking lots of photographs and hope, when I return, to have a bit more time for blogging. In the meantime, I am going to be enjoying some sunshine, warm weather, and even a drink or two at our Cocktails in Boquete bar.

Strange Bedfellows

2008-02-12T11:17:00.000-05:00

I have written more than once about how socialism and fascism are but two sides of the same coin. Thomas Sowell's recent column on the issue, Who Is 'Fascist'? is a worthwhile read.

Hurtling through life without a parachute

2008-02-07T10:41:00.000-05:00

There is a lot going on in my life right now. It is no surprise to me that my dreams should be even weirder than usual. I have written about dreams of mine before, and that I always marvel at their incredible detail and the epic, movie-like scope therein.

Lat night, I dreamt that I was in some sort of motorized conveyance with someone else. He was driving. When I drive, I don't waste any time. I have a lead foot, but I am not a reckless driver. The chap behind the wheel was driving way too fast and he was reckless in a way that scared me. Our vehicle careened about all over the place, left the road, and suddenly we were catapulted over the end of a large cliff.

That last event might have indicated a good time for me to panic and wake up. Instead, in my dream, I realized that I was no longer in the vehicle, but that somehow I was still in my seat, upright, and hurtling toward the ground. I figured that there was nothing for me to do but to make the best of the situation, so I took care to try to stay upright and to use the bottom of the seat, which was fairly flat and therefore created some drag, to slow down the fall a bit. It was a pleasant but exciting sensation, with the wind howling in my ears as I plummeted towards the ground. I was in control and I knew that before I hit the ground I would have figured out a way to save myself. In the meantime, I enjoyed the ride.

I woke up before I discovered what was to happen next.

That's my approach to life. Stuff happens. When stuff happens, you deal with it. Worry, anger, recrimination, nothing else works. And anything but working towards a solution is a waste of time. I don't like to waste time. There is too little of it.

Maybe, because life is so short and we only have one crack at doing it right, I am amazed that many of us fritter it away. I'm not suggesting that every minute need be spent doing something significant, just that there are some things more important than others and that it is a good idea to prioritize. It is also a good idea to leave other people to live their lives and to concentrate on your own.

Like my dream, there are situations in my life where things happen that are not of my doing. That happens to all of us. There are also things that happen to us because we make mistakes and we end up somewhere we would rather not be. Whatever the situation, the sooner we grab the paddle the sooner we will be back on course.

Don't worry; there is nothing seriously wrong with me or any projects or relationships. It's just the usual frustrations of trying to interact in an imperfect world. Some of us work off our frustrations by eating too much, drinking too much, or yelling at our spouses and kids. I dream. At least I get some entertainment value out of it and, best of all, it doesn't cost me a cent.

Dreaming of Panama

2008-02-01T14:04:00.000-05:00

It's Friday afternoon. I'm taking a break. Although I have been working away maniacally for days, the piles of paper on my desk don't appear to be shrinking. On the 17th of February I'm off to Panama again and I am both preparing everything I need to have ready for my meetings there and trying to get ahead of chores and projects that require attention here in Canada. For a few short minutes, I have had enough. I am going to write a few words and I am going to read some of my blogroll.

This Panama trip is going to be a big event for our Roca Milagro project. It will be the first time that we will have most of our shareholders together in the same place. I have carefully screened everyone who has come on board and I am pleased with the quality of individuals we have involved with this project. We have Americans, Canadians and Panamanians as shareholders. We will have meetings, dinners out, more meetings and a big party. One of my partners is preparing a feast on our land, to which all shareholders, locals in the area, local government dignitaries, suppliers and sundry friends are invited. It will be a blast. We will have a barbecue, with lots to eat and drink, in the orange grove on our property. Among the 400 orange trees, there is shade from the tropical sun and there are soft breezes to keep us cool. We will all get to know each other and relax.

I hope to have enough spare time while in Panama to get to know some people I have met on the Boquete.ning.com network and to spend some time at our Cocktails in Boquete bar which is planned to be open just before I arrive in the area. The link points to my partner Pete's blog, wherein he writes about his daily adventures while trying to create an intimate and trendy watering hole for us all and anyone who would like to join us for a drink.

Here in Canada, it's snowing again. I dream of lush green fields, pretty flowers, warm weather, sunshine, and a cold drink.

Come join me.

Just well, or realllllllllllllly well?

2008-01-29T15:12:00.000-05:00

As I was preparing to drop off my son to the final math exam for his current semester in Grade 10, I told him that if he got 100% on the exam I would pay for internet hook-up to Xbox 360 Live, something he has been pestering me about for weeks. I'm pretty sure he could get 100% on the exam if he exerted himself a bit. He already has a 90% average in math, and I think if he paid a bit more attention and wasn't careless in his calculations he could get 100% or very close to it.

His position is: what's wrong with 90%? Nothing is wrong with 90%, of course. But if he is already so close to the ultimate, wouldn't it make sense to push a bit harder?

I don't know. I don't want to make his life miserable. I can't say I was all that good at math myself (that means I was the worst math student, ever) so I can't hold myself up as a great example. My interest in math really started when I was in my thirties and started reading some of Isaac Asimov's books on math and sciences. The books were fascinating, and I then saw the error of my ways in not being more attentive in school and improving my performance in mathematics, physics and chemistry.

When I was in high school in the 1960's, math and science nerds were subject to considerable derision. Students who were heading for liberal arts degrees at university thought themselves superior and called the math and science students 'plumbers.' Of course, in the end, I'm sure that many of the fine arts students ended up working for those same 'plumbers,' who might have become engineers, inventors, or internet millionaires. I wonder who got the last laugh?

My son just got home from his exam and chatted with me via IM. Here's the conversation:

He: It went well.

Me: Just well, or realllllllllllllly well?

He: Really well.

I don't know what that means. Will it be another 90% or should I expect something a bit north of that?

I guess I'll just have to wait to find out.

Newspeak

2008-01-22T14:56:00.000-05:00

We're all in this together. It's for the greater good. It's important that we all pay our fair share. It takes a village. Recognize any of these statements? They are the stock-in-trade of those who feel that collective 'rights' are more important than the rights of the individual. The fact that groups are made up of individuals doesn't seem to matter to these folks, nor does the fact that collectivism demands universal participation in order for the system to work (however inefficiently), even by those who would prefer not to be involved.

I could go on quoting clichés all afternoon. You have heard them all and so have I. You may even believe that there is some merit to some of the expressions I've used. All I see is mumbo-jumbo. I see George Orwell's Newspeak. I see words that purportedly say one thing but in practice say quite the opposite.

Over the past several days, a couple of gentlemen and I have been bantering in the comments sections of several of my recent posts. One position posited is basically that we need government to keep order and to keep us playing nicely and fairly with each other. I might agree if governments were at least somewhat like what was envisioned by the framers of the U.S. Constitution. Government has never really been like that though, even in the United States. As soon as ambitious politicians and meddling bureaucrats and various other improvers and busybodies got involved, things went downhill. I would rather have no government at all than to be controlled and manipulated and bled, all for the 'greater good.'

Who gets to define the greater good? Want a hint? It's not the honest guys and gals who work hard to support their families and generally go about their lives minding their own business. No, it's the do-gooders, the world-improvers, the ones with 'vision,' the ones who 'care' and who have compassion. I have a vision (unfortunately not a reality) where I go through life not bothering anyone and not having anyone bother me. Their vision, usually highly impractical and often part of a larger agenda, involves bothering me a great deal, by taking my money, for 'the greater good,' and spending it on things of which I do not approve. I am rarely consulted. They, after all know better.

And that's not all. After they take my money, and squander it hither and yon, they create thousands of rules and regulations to govern my behaviour. I have no problem with being told that it is not acceptable to kill someone, or to steal from someone, or to defame someone. After all, these activities are reserved to the use of governments and they don't want any competition. I do, however, have a problem with being told to do or not do things that by no reasonable measure are anyone else's business.

I believe that we are in for tough times ahead, times during which there will be a lot of tension due to economic hardship and worse. Those are times during which it is of paramount importance for people to work together and stop bashing and blaming each other for whatever ills there are in the world. You are who (and what) you are because of choices you have made. So am I. Occasionally things happen to us over which we have no control -- illness, job loss, accident -- and we sometimes need each other's help. So, let's help each other by treating each other with respect and care. Let's just not pretend that we are helping each other by passing off the problem to government, effectively hiring a bunch of goons who, in the guise of providing services to us, squander most of the money they extort from us and in fact provide very little of any real use to us.

Dialogues

2008-01-17T13:00:00.000-05:00

I'm afraid whatever little time I've had to post over the last few days was spent responding to comments to an earlier post of mine. There has been a rather interesting dialogue going on there.

My friend Sylvain made the point that blindly following any ideology might not be the best path to anything, least of all, presumably, to any sort of harmonious co-existence with your fellow man. I agree. As a libertarian, I expect very little from others. Mostly, I want to be left alone. I don't want to be told what to do or not to do, or where I can go or with whom I can meet. I want to be able to speak freely. None of this costs anyone anything. None of this means that anyone else has to make any sacrifice on my behalf. No bureaucracy has to be set up to take care of me. No enforcement agencies are needed to keep me in line. In fact, if anything, libertarianism means not spying on your neighbours, not interfering with their lives, and thus not having to send them the bill for these intrusions -- intrusions that exist in some form or another at both the left and the right end of the political spectrum.

Human beings appear to have a knee-jerk gene. How else can one explain that any fairly innocuous position, stated by someone anywhere on the traditional political spectrum, can result in reactions ranging from barely civilized to downright hateful? I am not referring to exchanges taking place here on this blog, where mostly rational people visit, but more to the mudslinging that takes place whenever elections come around. Or when the subject of climate change arises. Or abortion. Or, come to think of it, just about anything under the sun.

It is certainly true that many people can't be bothered to take a position on anything. It's too much work. And they might have to exert themselves even more if their position is challenged, so the easiest tack is simply not to think, not to have an opinion, to float along on the winds of change until they die, never having had an original thought or having taken a firm position on anything along the way. It is just as true that many others glom onto an idea because it feels right. Something must be so, because it comes from the heart. If it seems compassionate, loving, caring, it just has to be true. Zealots who base everything on feelings or emotion can be just as dangerous as the know-nothings. And, they can be much harder to take.

Many misguided notions felt right, even sounded logical, to enough individuals over the centuries, to create the mayhem that we can all read about in our history books. The human race has a troubled past as legacy. And it has a troubled future ahead, and not necessarily for the reasons we might expect. I don't know what lies ahead, specifically, but I would rather keep my future under my control than to delegate decisions I should be making to any group of government officials or anyone else.

I welcome all of the input I get here from individuals who think, who care. I may not always agree with everything, but I will usually avoid ridiculing anyone who I think is making an effort to understand the world around him. We should all try to do just that.

Hang our heads in shame . . .

2008-01-16T11:43:00.001-05:00

From an article in the Vancouver Sun:

Marc Emery agrees to five years in Canadian prison

VANCOUVER - Marc Emery, Vancouver's self-styled Prince of Pot, has tentatively agreed to a five-year prison term in a plea bargain over U.S. money laundering and marijuana seed-selling charges.
. . . .

Read the rest of the article here.

Crazy Canucks

2008-01-11T12:55:00.000-05:00

Well, we did it. A couple of my crazy Canadian friends and I have entered into a partnership with an American ex-pat in Panama. We're creating a bar, to be called Cocktails, in Boquete. Our American partner already had things well underway and we're just stepping in to help out with finances and lots of (probably bad) ideas. We have a blog that will chronicle our progress and will likely contain more than a few irrelevant brain droppings of the partners.

My one Canadian partner and I were joking back and forth with each other about the fact that I rarely take an alcoholic drink and he doesn't drink alcohol at all. Given that this enterprise is being created with the express purpose of selling alcoholic drinks, does any of this make any sense? I barely think so.

None of the Canadian partners have met Pete, the American. Are we nuts? I don't think so. This isn't the first time that my money has met a business partner before I have. I have gut instincts about people and about business in general, about who and what to believe in. Sometimes I'm right, sometimes I'm wrong. This venture should be fun -- if nothing else, I like the way Pete thinks and writes. He has an edgy, self-deprecating sense of humour and I like that. I just hope he knows how to mix a cocktail.

Mark and John, my other Canadian partners are an internet businessman and a business professor in a community college. Mark, like me, plays guitar. I don't think John plays anything, unless you count card games through some strange twist of logic that is too obscure even for me to fathom.

So there you have it. Certifiable, all of us. But we're having fun, so what else matters?

We're open for business near the end of February. Drop in.

Lowering the bar

2008-01-07T14:53:00.000-05:00

In my liquor cabinet at home, I have a bottle of Chivas Regal that was given to me as a gift sometime in the early 1970's. I have other unopened bottles of alcoholic refreshments that are nearly as old. I don't mind taking a drink now and again, but at the rate I drink I simply can't keep up. I am no teetotaler; I don't drink much because I have simply always wanted to be fully in control of my faculties.

It's the same way with drugs. You can toke or pop or inject all you want. That's your business. I am personally not interested. My drug is life itself. I love every day, every hour, every minute, every second. That's all I need. And think of all the money I save!

I may not drink much or do drugs at all, but I would have no problem selling booze or even drugs, if they were legal, to you, or anyone else. I might think you to be a fool for paying good money to dull your senses and increase your risk of behaving foolishly, but it's your body, your mind, your money. What you do is none of my business.

That's why I have no problem with Marc Emery (see my last post) selling marijuana seeds. He has 'em, you want 'em, you exchange your money for his seeds and everyone's happy, right? Well, not everyone. The alphabet soup of American law enforcement agencies don't like it, but they are out of touch with reality. People buy what they want, legal or not. If enforcers make something too expensive or too difficult to get, it will create a class of criminal that didn't exist before, simply because it is necessary for people wanting the prohibited substance to break the law to get what they want. The legislators and enforcers know better and just want to help us, you say? Puhleeze! Don't make me laugh.

The capacity of the human animal for silly and downright stupid behaviour is unfathomable to me, whether it is that of the person who wants to pollute himself or the person who is trying to prevent it. If we all minded our own business, we would all be better off.

To make it possible for me to have an occasional brew or cocktail while I am in Panama on my many visits, I am thinking of investing in a bar there. I would be a very poor customer of the establishment myself, but how cool would it be to be a partner in a watering hole in such an exotic locale? I can pretend that I'm Rick in Casablanca. Or something.

Would you drop in to see me, if you happened to be in Panama during the few weeks per year that I spend there? We could discuss the foolishness of drink and drugs while I mentally add up your liquor bill. Just kidding. I would be tickled to buy you a drink or two, and to discuss how we might together save this silly world from itself.

Now that would be a long conversation.

Here we go again . . .

2008-01-02T13:51:00.001-05:00

My friend Karen Selick has published an open letter to Canada's Minister of Justice, about another friend of ours, Marc Emery, who is being targeted by the frightful might of the United States for selling marijuana seeds to Americans. An extradition hearing has been scheduled for January 21, 2008, and Marc faces quite probably the rest of his natural life behind bars if he is extradited to the United States -- for something that is largely ignored here in Canada. I don't do drugs of any kind personally, because I think it is silly to do so, but still wonder why this should be such a big issue in one country and not so in another. Why not leave the poor guy alone and hunt up some murderers and rapists and child molesters instead? Better yet, put all the politicians in jail instead, for polluting the atmosphere with all their hot air, and for bankrupting us all.

I know it is foolish of me to expect any sort of rational behaviour by government and enforcement officials anywhere, but wouldn't it be nice if once, just once, someone in power made a reasonable and humane decision about something? Should we hold our breath, though, while waiting for such a miracle?

Perhaps if we had fewer morons running things, and less idiotic legislation controlling us, fewer people would find it necessary to light up, shoot up, or drink. Just saying.

Happy New Year!

2007-12-31T10:54:00.001-05:00

As 2007 draws to its inevitable conclusion, I look forward to 2008 with some apprehension. There are so many things that can go wrong in our world that some surely will. We can only hope that we will be able to stumble along, from one crisis to another, and with any luck be no worse off at the same time next year.

Many others, around the world, will not be so lucky. There will be wars, insurrections, rebellions, murders. Governments around the world, as they always do, will increasingly turn on their own citizens. The power elite in each country will cheer the process along. Individuals don't matter. Only the political agenda, whatever it happens to be, matters. Whether right or left, political agendas always mean control of the individual in some way.

I am not a worrier. I am a coper. Whatever happens, I try to cope, to keep my sense of humour, to make the best of any situation. Still, I always wonder why things are what they are, why some individuals have the need to control and others apparently have the need to be controlled. When I finally pass on, hopefully many years from now, I will still not have reached an understanding of this, nor would I want to, especially if the understanding is that we are all somehow born idiots and can never be anything better than idiots. I prefer my personal delusions, that individually we all have the capability of love, compassion, and understanding, and that all things being equal we could live in a harmonious and peaceful world.

I have enjoyed blogging here for another year and hope to continue in 2008. I enjoy reading the blogs on my blogroll and appreciate every reader who drops by to read my posts. This is a great community and we all support each other and that is a good thing.

To finish off 2007, I am including a song below, called Étude in E Major. My friend Paul Pedersen loves to doodle with chord patterns on his guitar and I asked him to record one of his creations on my computer before he left on a Christmas holiday. I have written a melodic track to accompany his chording. I ran out of time to polish it completely, but I hope you will enjoy it anyway. Paul plays his trusty Fender Telecaster and I play an amplified, nylon stringed Jerzey. Click the graphic or the link below it to listen.

Étude in E Major

Paul: I never did finish Silent Night. I'll explain when we have our next jam session. I really like your Étude, though. I feel as though we should flesh it out and make something bigger out if it. See you soon and Happy New year to you and yours!

Still

2007-12-31T10:06:00.000-05:00

From Motherpie comes this excellent list challenge called 'Still.' I've filled out my list; how would you answer your 'stills'?

I am . . .

Still Loving: My family and my job.

Still Not: Retiring.

Still Glad: That I'm not a teacher, as so many of my friends have been and my wife still is.

Still Enjoying: Writing and traveling and playing guitar.

Still Doing: Shaking my head daily at every new bit of evidence that the human race is seriously screwed up.

Still Proud: Of the fact that I am relatively sane after having lived (to put it mildly) an 'interesting' life; relatively intact after having been thrown from and kicked by various horses; and still possessed of a sense of humour so I can laugh at life's challenges.

Still Amazed: at 2007's Challenges: Getting a residential development off the ground in the Republic of Panama without tearing out the few remaining (and greying) hairs on my head.

Still Hoping: That against all odds, the world will turn again to individual responsibility and away from statism in all its horrible variants.

Still Enjoying: My daily morning ritual of coffee and a raisin tea biscuit, reading the news and checking precious metals prices on my computer.

Still Grateful: That I realized that becoming a Professor of Philosophy would have been incredibly boring for me and thus going into business for myself instead.

Still Wanting: A Mercedes Benz SUV.

Still Trying: To understand human nature and its foibles.

Still Failing: To understand human nature and its foibles.

Still Passionate About: Life.

Still Taking up new things: Roca Milagro and more to come.

Still Dating: Chrystyna, the woman I married.

Still Not: Happy about paying much more than any reasonable amount in taxes.

Still Working: To achieve a healthy balance between raising my teenage son to be prepared for life and still letting him have some fun along the way.

Still Reading: Everything I can, but somehow never enough.

Still Thinking: That I will not have done enough by the time I die.

Still Wondering: Why the human race never appears to learn from the past.

Still Dressing: Myself, thank goodness.

Still To Do: Visit more parts of the world, help more people become self-sufficient, learn to sit patiently at a stoplight.

Still Cherishing: The freedoms we still have in Canada.

Still Will Never: Stop trying to understand women.

Still Will Aways: Enjoy every moment I have left on this earth.

Still, Still: Puzzled by so many things.

Not much new here . . .

2007-12-28T15:38:00.000-05:00

Was Santa good to you? At my home, he dropped off a few things for my son, but at our request, skipped adding any more junk to the piles that my wife and I already have and are trying to get rid of. Thank you, Santa, for being cool about our surely unusual request.

My friend Vince visited us, as he does every year. He heads the International Society for Individual Liberty, located in California, and appears to miss the snow, or something. Why else would he come to Canada? I enjoy his visits every year. We always have lots to talk about. He tells me that the I.S.I.L. site is getting about 20,000 hits per month from Venezuela. I guess that means that there are a lot of freedom seekers there, individuals who don't share the Hollywood airheads' notion that Venezuela under Hugo Chavez is Paradise on Earth. I like the Flash animation on the I.S.I.L. site, go here: Philosophy of Liberty, select a language, and enjoy.

I am taking advantage of a little more free time than usual to visit bloggers on my blogroll. Even if I don't always leave comments, I do visit, and read and enjoy your posts.

I hope you are all having a great time playing with your new toys, wearing your new clothes, eating and drinking heartily and generally enjoying yourselves. Just stay safe.

I Hope Santa is a Forgiving Sort of Guy

2007-12-24T10:54:00.000-05:00

I've been a bad boy. No, I won't bore you with all of the things I have done for which Santa might wish to award me lumps of coal, but I do admit that on occasion this past year I have been churlish and impatient. And I've said a bad word or two. But other than that, (take note, Santa) I have been really, really good and I want you to promise me that you will, finally, once and for all, bring world peace, end hunger all over our troubled globe, give everyone a warm place to sleep, and make teenagers less obnoxious. Is that too much to ask?

I was going to post an instrumental version of Silent Night today that my friend Paul and I had begun to record, but all the time I thought I was going to have available to edit the tracks somehow disappeared. How did that happen? Sorry, Paul. Next year.

I want to take this opportunity to wish each and every reader who drops by, even all the lurkers who never announce themselves, a Very Merry Christmas. You all deserve to be amply rewarded, especially after listening to me rant about so many things throughout the year. I'm sure that Santa will do his best.

Have a pleasant Christmas Eve, everyone, and enjoy the time with your friends and family.

Silver Bells

2007-12-21T08:34:00.000-05:00

I love Christmas Carols. I remember singing them in grade school assemblies, in church as a child, and at home with my family. All those melodies still float around in my head and, no surprise, I like to doodle with them at this time of year when I play guitar. My friend Paul was over Wednesday night for our weekly jam session, and we recorded Silver Bells on my n-track mixing software. Paul plays rhythm and bass and I play lead. I actually recorded a second, harmonic lead track, played on a nylon-stringed guitar, but took it out of the mix because it made the song sound too busy. Silver Bells should be clean and simple. Although our version of the song would by no means be fit for any stage, I know that you, dear reader, will be forgiving of our feeble efforts. Click on the image or link displayed below to play a short snippet of the song on your computer.

Silver Bells

Presents or Presence

2007-12-20T12:27:00.000-05:00

Tomorrow, December 21, is one of the most important days of the year for me. Why? Because it marks the Winter Solstice, the day of the year which has the least daylight in the Northern Hemisphere. To me, it means that things will start getting better, every single day, until we once again have long the long summer days that I love. I could stand the few daily hours of sunlight, during our Canadian winters, if it were at least warm outside. I don't imagine that I would do well in latitudes even further north, where there is even more darkness, and colder temperatures, during the winter months.

I remember my dad telling stories about his youth in Siberia. He and his parents and siblings lived in a sod hut, had no electric lights, no central heating, no indoor toilets, no television or other entertainment -- and all this in one of the most inhospitable areas on earth during the winter months. How did they manage? I'm glad I don't have to live that way.

By contrast, I grew up mostly in Southern Ontario, Canada. We didn't have much in the way of material things at first, but my siblings and I certainly had a much better life than did our parents during their years in Siberia, Poland and Germany.

Now, here we are at the end of 2007 and approaching that annual time of goodwill and friendship: Christmas. It reminds me of growing up in the 1950’s and the special anticipation I felt in the weeks leading up to December 25th.

What did I look forward to? Gifts? Sure, I always got a toy of some kind, perhaps some socks or gloves, but not much else. What I got instead was time to spend with my brother and sister and mother and father, singing carols around our Christmas tree, enjoying a special Christmas dinner, playing Parcheesi, Snakes and Ladders, Checkers, and enjoying time away from school.

There were no iPods; in fact no MP3 players at all. There was no Nintendo Gamecube or Wii, no Microsoft Xbox, no Sony PlayStation. There were no computers. Santa didn’t need a dump truck to deliver gifts to each home. Kids got, instead, love and attention from their parents. That, I think, was much more important that any number of toys or gadgets.

I don’t like much of the commercialization at Christmas time. I don’t like that the season has become to be about ‘things,’ rather than about friends and family, and for those who celebrate the religious aspects of Christmas, a remembrance of why there is a Christmas at all.

I'm going to enjoy Christmas with my wife and son. My friend Vince, from California, will spend some time with us. The family may head for the bright lights of Toronto for a day or two. Although my wife and I have bought some gifts for my son, there won't be a lot of Christmas presents in our home. Instead, we will enjoy the Christmas presence of each other and of friends and relatives. To me, at least, that is much more important.

Fathers and Sons

2007-12-18T11:32:00.000-05:00

My son proudly pointed his face towards me on the weekend and it took me a moment to clue in that he wanted me to see what a great job he had done shaving. It was the first time for him that there was nary a nick visible, anywhere. He had done a perfect job. I, on the other hand, haven't shaved for weeks. I often keep a very closely cropped beard, but my son had asked me not to shave at all, until after Christmas, so he could see how long my beard would get in approximately six weeks. So, being a good daddy, I am humouring him.

I remember, when I was much younger, trying to get my dad to grow a beard. On a visit to a farm that my brother and I owned back in the seventies, my dad actually went for an entire week without shaving. Otherwise, he didn't like the 'look,' and found the beard irritating. That's my dad in the photograph above, sitting between his two sons -- me on the left and my brother Alfred on the right. We look like a bunch of desperadoes.

I miss my dad. He was a kind, gentle man. He never said much. He always did a lot, for his family and friends and anyone he met. I have never encountered anyone who didn't like my dad. December 16th was the anniversary of his death at age 94, in 1998. His brother, Eduard, is still alive and will be celebrating his 98th birthday on December 31st. Eduard, as were the other of my dad's brothers that I was privileged to meet, is temperamentally much like my dad and a great guy. I wish him many more years.

I remember my dad fondly. I hope someday my son will remember me that way. To hedge my bets, I will on occasion grow my beard longer than I like, listen to the so-called music he plays, make him waffles every Sunday morning, and generally give him my time and attention.

Canadian Tax Dollars At Work

2007-12-17T11:11:00.000-05:00

Should the government, to satisfy meddling busybodies with so much time to spare that they seek to control the behaviour of everyone who is different from them, spend its time prosecuting ridiculous cases? I don't think so. The anti-smoking Nazis are hard at work even in Ontario, Canada. They seek to extend their power and control everywhere. And they waste our tax dollars.

Who owns you and your body? Not you, apparently. But we knew that already. Read the latest, overreaching act of idiocy, copied from an appeal on the Ontario Libertarian Party website, below:

....................................

Mike Kennedy Appeals Smoking Ban for Private Clubs

On January 3, 2008, Mike Kennedy and David Lindsay will appear in the Ontario Superior Court of Justice to defend property rights. We need your help to pay for the air fare for David Lindsay to come and represent Mike at the appeal.

Here is the case in a nut shell.

Mike Kennedy has been fighting smoking bans for several years. When Ontario introduced the Smoke Free Ontario Act, it did not included private clubs. So Mike decided to establish a private club for smokers known as “Smokers Choice/Non Smokers Choice” in a pub that was going out of business thanks to the Act.

Mike went to great lengths to ensure his club qualified as a "private" club. He established a Charter consisting of a set of mandatory rules, regulations and constitution that specified things like how members would elect a board of directors There are no employees, only volunteers. Members must pay monthly dues, not a fee per visit. A Doorman ensures that only registered members are allowed into the club. Mike was in the process of establishing a computer system with photos of members to help ensure only members are admitted. Members must sign an agreement that they are prepared to accept the hazards of second hand smoke and keep an eye on the entrance to ensure no one but members enters, among a few other things. Advertising for the club was directed at smokers and not to the general public. "Guests" are not allowed.

On September 8, 2006 two inspectors from the Health Unit of the Ontario Government arrived at the club to investigate a complaint that the club was permitting smoking on site. Mike allowed them to enter the club for observation, and they observed ashtrays. Mike assured him this was a private club and in compliance with all regulations. One of the inspectors returned on September 13, 2006 to obtain more information. He asked Mike to post No Smoking signs, but Mike refused. Mike explained the membership requirements and fees, but the inspector would not agree to the rules of the club, especially the one were he would have to agree not to jeopardize the enjoyment of other members. Mike refused to allow him entry, since he was not a member. He returned again on the occasion of the grand opening three days later and was again refused entry. He returned once more on September 20 and took photographs, and was once more refused entry.

In spite of all of the above, Mike Kennedy was charged under the Smoke Free Ontario Act. Justice of the Peace Bartraw, after hearing all of the above and more, convicted Mike of allowing smoking in an enclosed public place!

In his Appeal Mike concedes his club is an enclosed place, but he argues it is not a public place under the meaning of the Act. Alternatively, if it is "public," then the definition in the Act is general, vague, ambiguous and/or uncertain in its scope and application. He is also appealing on the grounds that there was a reasonable apprehension of bias on the part of JP Bartraw. Batraw gave no reason for declaring the club to be public, other than to note that members of the club were also members of the public. If this club is public, then the only private property (so far) is your home!

It is important that we fight this attack on private property. It appears that the JPs that Mike has encountered in this and previous smoking cases are determined to go beyond the Smoke Free Ontario Act and ban smoking even in private places. Smitherman and other MPPs might have wanted to go further, but they knew the voters wouldn't let them get away with it. The next step will be to ban smoking in cars, then maybe the public will be ready to accept even more draconian measures and infringements of their rights.

WE NEED YOUR HELP!

The Ontario Libertarian Party paid $678.40 for a copy of the Transcript of the trial so that Mike Kennedy and David Lindsay could prepare their appeal. The air fare for David on WestJet from Kelowna to Toronto and back is $802.78. (David is not charging for his time.) We need your help to cover these costs.

You can pay online with PayPal by clicking here.
Or you can call the Party at 416-283-7589 or 1-888-668-5423 with your VISA card.
Or you can send a cheque to
Ontario Libertarian Party.
7-91 Rylander Blvd., Box 121
Scarborough, ON M1B 5M5

A Friday Rant

2007-12-14T13:36:00.000-05:00

I've been delinquent with my blog posting again. I've been doing stuff that I shouldn't have to do and I'm grumpy because of it. After months of fighting with our Panamanian Bank (Banistmo, Boquete Branch) I have finally had enough and we are moving all of our corporate and personal accounts to another bank. I have never encountered a more disinterested and incompetent bank than that branch and I can't imagine that they have any corporate accounts. Our own corporations will be channeling millions of dollars through our Panamanian banks, as we pay for roads, drainage, water and electrical systems, as we sell building lots, and as we transact many other details related to the development our Roca Milagro residential community. That doesn't seem to matter to Banistmo, and we receive no co-operation, no support, no answers to emails, no telephone calls. Nothing. And no, we are not trying to borrow money. A lack of funds is not our problem. We just want to be able to conduct business, write cheques, transfer funds -- all in a seamless and efficient manner.

Simple, right? No at that bank. One of my partners and I have interviewed a new bank, he in person and I by telephone, and the staff there promises to pay more attention to our needs and to treat us as a valued customer. We'll see.

Contrast Banistmo's attitude to something that happened yesterday with my courier company, here in Canada. One of our drivers was told that a bank deposit he had made for a client was $15,000 short. In the tracing process, it was discovered that the bank had made the error. The bank telephoned our client, apologized profusely, accepted every consequence, and made everyone happy. This happened less than an hour or so from the time we found out the problem existed. In Panama, we are still waiting for processes we started at the bank nearly six months ago to be completed. The actual time it would take for someone who cared to deal with the most important of those requests? Perhaps five or ten minutes. No, I'm not kidding.

There are real cultural differences, of course, in countries around the world. I don't expect everything in Panama to be just the way it is in Canada. That would be silly. Part of the charm of doing business elsewhere is that things are different. Situations that arise from cultural differences or inexperience are something I have no problem with. It is incompetence and sloth that really set me off.

Places like Panama are going to grow more and more quickly. Why? Good weather, low prices, stable economy, stable political environment and charming people, are all pluses that will draw people from North America and Europe who are ready for a move. I know it's Friday afternoon and the last thing you probably want is to have the bejeebers scared out of you. If you can stand it, and want to see yet another reason why so many people are fleeing, from the United States in particular, read this:

USA Quietly Expands Draconian Emergency Powers Law

Some Like it Hot

2007-12-12T08:16:00.000-05:00

As I entered the front door to my company's offices this morning, I set the take-out coffee cup I was holding onto a counter. "This coffee sure is hot, today" I commented to a nearby staffer. I wasn't complaining. I love my coffee scalding hot.

"Pour it in your lap, then sue." He responded. He was joking, of course.

I countered with: "Get rich, North American style. Do something stupid, then sue and make somebody else pay." We both guffawed.

It's not really a laughing matter, though. In fairness, we Canadians have not quite caught the 'sue anything that moves' disease that plagues the United States, but I don't think we are immune. It is only a matter of time until we follow suit. Pun intended.

In a world where many individuals refuse to take responsibility for the stupid things they do, where we are all taught that nothing bad that happens to us is our fault, where there is non-stop bleating about how corporations are soul-less, irresponsible, evil and despicable, what can we expect?

How about we all just look to ourselves and our families, and worry only about how we exist in this complicated world and how we touch those around us?

. . .

Please forgive yet another Ron Paul plug, but the video displayed below is short and succinct. Ron's the Man! Help him out, if you can.

Why? Why not?

2007-12-10T13:21:00.000-05:00

In his article, Why I Support Ron Paul, American venture capitalist Lawrence W. Lepard explains why he paid for this full page ad in USA Today. Both the article and the ad make worthwhile reading. Americans have a once in a lifetime opportunity to do something dramatic, an opportunity to commit to excellence, to exhibit common sense, to take a stand for liberty and responsibility. I wonder how many Americans will take that opportunity.

We'll see, soon enough.

There is another big fund-raising event for Ron Paul, on December 16th. Break open those piggy banks. Send money. Help break another fund-raising record.

Please.

Differences

2007-12-06T12:25:00.000-05:00

I read two posts yesterday that I found of great interest. They are both from bloggers on my blogroll. I feature blogs that are of interest to me, for whatever reason, and make no attempt to display only blogs written by individuals with whom I agree wholeheartedly. I read everything. I digest, I learn. I expect everyone to make their own decisions. It is not my job to think for anyone. Nor, of course, is it anyone else's job to think for me.

The two blog posts are Sanuk is not a four-letter word and He says that like it's a bad thing. They serve to illustrate just how far apart we can be as human beings in terms of what we expect from life and, more importantly, what we are prepared to give to earn what we expect as our due.

Life is complicated. Life is sometimes unfair. It is how we deal with life's ups and downs, its frustrations, its tragedies, that define us. Go... read the two posts. With which do you identify? Or do you see yourself at least partially in each?

To anyone who reads here regularly, it won't be any surprise that I agree with one of the bloggers more than the other, but I respect the right of any individual to think and believe whatever they wish, as long as it doesn't infringe somehow on my own legitimate rights or cost me money.

Go forth and learn.

Is Kahlua a Cure-all?

2007-12-05T13:09:00.000-05:00

Freddie, at Warts & All, slept in today. So did I. I was wide awake at 6:40am, waiting to get out of bed at my usual time of 7:00am. But I wasn't comfortable, just lying there. My neck was bent at an uncomfortable angle. I rearranged myself and then suddenly it was 7:20am. I had fallen back asleep. I had to get my son up so he could have his breakfast and get ready so I could drive him to school by the 8:00am bell. More and more, I ask myself why in the world I am living in this cold and unwelcome climate, at least during the winter. I love the other seasons, spring, summer and fall, in Canada, but the winters are no fun.

I spoke to one of my Panamanian partners and he said how nice it would be if I actually lived there and how much easier it would be to get things done. True. But I have a son in high school and a wife who doesn't like hot, humid weather. And, being the good daddy and husband that I am, I don't just jump on a plane to Panama at any pretext, just to get away from the cold, the snow, and the inevitable headaches of winter.

That's not really much to complain about, is it? In reading about all the nonsense that goes on around our globe, what is a little snow and a little cold weather by comparison? Nothing!

Cold? Turn up the furnace. Wet and slushy? Wear boots. Don't want to get out of bed? No problem. Who's going to fire me? There is, of course, the matter of my son getting to school, though. Maybe I should make him walk every morning, as I did, rain or shine. No, I can't do that. I am a strict and demanding father, but there are some things I can't do. I remember having to get up early every morning and then trudging at least a mile to get to school every morning. Blizzards, pouring rain, nothing deterred us as students in the fifties and sixties. We did what we had to do. I did it, but didn't like it. In this one thing, I am a softy. So... no having to trudge through blizzards for my son. I'll get up and drive him. And usually, we won't be as rushed as we were this morning.

Winter isn't even officially here and the problems with snow plows have already begun here where I live. Nearly half of the boulevard between the sidewalk and the in front of my home is no more. The sod that used to cover the area is in a large pile measuring about two cubic yards. The plow driver chewed up the area with the blade of his machine and as my neighbour, who watched the incident, tried to wave him down, the fellow just carried merrily along. Not his problem. A number of phone calls and emails later, we have an assurance from City Hall that this will be taken care of in the spring. By then, who knows what will actually happen? And what about tomorrow, the next day, next week, next month? Will the plow driver actually stay on the road where he belongs? Who knows. Let's hope so.

Someone brought in coffee for everyone in the office and a bottle of Kahlua. That combination, steaming hot in a nice heavy mug seems pretty inviting right now.

How's your day?

Meine Zeit

2007-12-03T11:58:00.000-05:00

It's a cold and blustery day in Ontario. It rained last night and the roads are treacherous. It took a long time to get to work this morning. Usually, as I get more and more frustrated by the poor driving habits of many motorists and bad road conditions generally, I mutter bad words under my breath, sometimes in two languages. Today, I was mostly lost in thought as I waited in traffic, and as I missed yet another opportunity to make a left turn from a long queue of cars all waiting with the same purpose, I heard myself sigh and utter the words: "Meine Zeit."

I don't recall using those German words in an exclamation of resignation and frustration for decades, or perhaps even ever. It was my mother who would sigh those words when she got impatient about something. The words mean 'my time,' and might fall into the same category as 'my goodness,' as an exclamation. Time, in the context of having to wait for dozens of vehicles to make it through an intersection would, of course, be something to exclaim about!

My mother has been gone for over five years now. She and I were much alike, something that didn't always allow a harmonious relationship between us. Although each of us had virtually unlimited patience in the pursuit of life's larger goals, each of us had no patience to speak of in smaller matters. My mother's impatience used to drive me crazy as a child and young man, much as my own now surely tortures my son, Zachary. Poor kid.

I had great respect for my mother, though. She was very bright and in all ways except her impatience was a great role model for her children. I miss her and wish that my son had gotten to know her for longer than the ten or so years he was able to share with her.

Today, the first working day in a new calendar month, is the day on which I buy everyone in our office lunch, to celebrate another successful billing to our customers for the month just passed. I'm waiting now, more patiently than usual, for our lunch orders to arrive.

Did I just say "more patiently?" I must be getting old.

Really Important School Stuff

2007-11-27T12:07:00.000-05:00

As part of a school assignment in my son's grade ten class, he is to determine what he thinks is his personal Colour. It's some sort of personality test or something. I took an 'official' version of such a test when I was on the School Council of my son's former school. I can't imagine what useful purpose that served, but all of us on the Council took the test. I was, I think, Green and Orange. Only one other person had Green in her test. I liked her. What did it all mean? I can't remember. Nothing terribly important, surely. Just another way to waste taxpayer's money.

Anyway, my son didn't actually take the test, he is just to guess what Colour he thinks he is, based on attributes and characteristics culled from a list. He thinks he is Green and Orange. No, I didn't tell him what I thought he might be. My wife, based on the list he showed her, thinks he is Blue.

I didn't even look at the list. I think he is, or will be, whatever he wants to be.

What puzzles me is why valuable class time is spent on this crap. I think rather than trying to figure out what type or personality someone has, it would make more sense to establish ways to motivate the kids and make them perform in the classroom, not find excuses why they are the way they are. We like to be able to say: "Oh, my son can't help being a putz. He's a (pick your colour) and is better suited to (pick something that he might actually be good at) than to (pick whatever he sucks at.)" Pigeonholing us all is yet another way of excusing us from performing to higher standards and rationalizing away our sloth and indifference.

I really don't care what colour we all are. I only care that we behave rationally, consistently, always do our best, and adhere to high ethical standards. That's not too much to ask, is it?

Drinking With Gusto

2007-11-26T12:19:00.000-05:00

Zachary and Simpson - 2004

Yesterday, my son and I were watching Simpson, one of our cats, drinking from his water bowl. I commented that perhaps we should get him some fresh water, suggesting to my son that it might taste better to the cat. I dumped the contents of the bowl, ran some cool new water into it and then we watched again. Simpson sniffed the water, thought about what to do for a long moment, then proceeded to drink heartily. I explained to my son that Simpson was now drinking 'with gusto.'

Zachary had not heard that term before, so he asked me what it meant. Never one to pass up an opportunity to teach my son about some of life's riddles, I set out to give him an in-depth explanation:

Cats hate water, I said. When they step in water inadvertently, they look at their paws with disgust and try to shake the liquid off. They hate to get wet under any circumstance, and will always avoid water if they can -- except, of course, when they are thirsty.

Why is that, I asked my son. He didn't know.

The reason, I explained to him, is that cats large and small, wild and domesticated, have 'gusto sacks' in their cheeks. When they are thirsty and bend to drink from a water bowl, or from a puddle or stream, small amounts of gusto are secreted into the mouth of the cat, and the water then tastes good to the animal. The cat somehow doesn't have its normal aversion to water, now that it is drinking the liquid 'with gusto.' It's a marvelous evolutionary thing. Biologists are still trying to figure out the flavour of the gusto, so far with no success.

Is it fish flavour? Chicken? Cat butt? I'm afraid I don't have the answer.

Isn't this story amazing? Perhaps a bit hard to believe? I sure hope it is hard to believe, because it isn't true. I mean the story is true, but the gusto sacks part of the story isn't true. My son didn't believe me, and neither should you. Someone, somewhere, might believe this story if they thought that I had some sort of knowledge that they might not be party to, or if they didn't know what the expression 'with gusto' meant, or if they simply weren't very discriminating in what they believed or in whom they trusted to state things in which they could believe.

I have long tried to explain to my son that he should be very careful about what and whom he believes. All sorts of nonsense is spouted by all sorts of people. Some of this 'information' may have a smattering of truth to it, but it might have become corrupted via many re-tellings. Some might simply be lies designed to trick the gullible or have them believe something convenient to the teller of the tale. Whatever the reason, lies are lies. Whether they are told deliberately as falsehoods or whether they are held to be true by the teller makes no difference. The lies might be mostly innocent and of no particular danger to anyone, but it is important to be able to tell the difference between fact and fiction.

I have taught my son from the time he was but a tyke, to develop bullshit filters, to screen everything he hears, and verify, verify, verify. If something doesn't pass a smell test at first telling, it probably isn't true. And if it seems as if it might be true but is unusually harsh or unusually laudatory, check the motives and the agenda of the teller. That will help narrow things down as to whether there is any merit to an assertion.

Why do I tell my son such things? My mother, when she was alive, used to ask me that. Why do I spin these silly, and sometimes quite elaborate tales around my son. Well, part of it is that I enjoy a good joke and to me being able to deliver utter nonsense in a perfectly serious, deadpan fashion is in itself funny. Secondly, it gives me an opportunity to observe how my son parses information and how he applies the filters that I have tried to help him develop.

There is one problem with all this: my son is turning the tables and is now testing me regularly. He hasn't fooled me yet, but there will be a first time, won't there? I hope I will have the good sense and the grace to laugh at having been tricked, just as I expect my son to act after I have spun yet another tall tale in an attempt to trick him.

There is one good thing about this too. My son has developed a good sense of humour and an appreciation for the human condition, notably the foibles of an imperfect race, on an imperfect planet, in a chaotic universe.

Happy Thanksgiving

2007-11-21T09:28:00.000-05:00

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving for our American friends, and I would like to wish everyone a wonderful holiday. These are uncertain times on our tiny globe and although we never know exactly what our future will bring, we still have much to be thankful for. I am thankful for all the great people who drop in to see The Atavist regularly, even if most of them never actually say hello. Everyone is welcome here, and I appreciate the fact that people from the United States and around the world read my words.

We in Canada have already had our Thanksgiving, back in October. I am tempted to hop in my car or on a plane and impose on a friendly American somewhere who would be willing to share a turkey feast with me. Any offers? Hmmm, maybe that wouldn't be such a good idea. My wife might wonder where I disappeared to, and my son wouldn't have his daddy around to torment. Maybe I had best just wish everyone a perfect Thanksgiving, filled with laughter and friendship, and I'll try to conjure up that turkey feast in my dreams tonight.

Happy Thanksgiving!

On Men and Women

2007-11-19T12:47:00.000-05:00

This blog gets a lot of traffic via search engines, something I'm sure must be true of most blogs out there. Because I have written a few times about male/female relationships, it comes as no surprise to me that individuals seeking information that would help them understand the opposite sex might end up on my blog. Gleaned from just the last couple of days, and listed below, are just a few of the search strings that landed the seeker at The Atavist:

what every man wants in a woman
man wants a woman to need him
male remembers things about a woman
we're both looking for something

. . . and numerous other variations on the theme.

In the interest of helping these poor souls believe that they are making some progress in their understanding of their lovers or spouses or stalking targets, I offer here some additional insights into what makes both men and women 'tick.' I am as much an expert on the subject as anyone else, because I too, like other commentators, simply guess at what might be true and then count on the fact that my ponderings are written in this medium to make them official.

Ready? I'll take whatever characteristics or behaviours pop into my mind, and I'll tell you my opinion about whether they might be predominately male or female. If you're looking for order or some sort of cohesion in my list, there isn't any.

Anger: This is a male thing. We get angry at stuff. Then we settle down and things revert to normal, usually very quickly.
Fury: Definitely female. Why waste time being simply angry when you can work up a good fury instead. It lasts longer, is more intense, and is harder to overlook.
Frustration: Male. We don't like it when things don't work, don't move, don't co-operate. We like progress to be made and when there is none, we get frustrated.
Acceptance: Male. When we realize that we can't change it, or her, we are more likely to accept things the way they are. We may not like it, but the male approach is usually to tough it out.
Tears: Female. Women cry. Sometimes, tears bring out the protective side of men and we then try to make things better for our female counterparts. We find tears unsettling. When we feel that tears are being used to manipulate us, we get pissed off.
Back-stabbing: I know that men are mostly thought of as ruthless, even vindictive, in business and commerce, but in the arena of personal relationships, women win (lose?) hands down. In general, women will turn on their friends, lovers, husbands, family, quicker and with more energy than males.
Puns: Men. If there is a bad pun hanging around, you can bet it came from a male. If there is a risque element to it, there is no doubt whatever.
Yelling: Male. Men get angry. When they get angry they are likely to yell. There is a critical mass of words that the average male will yell and when that is reached, the yelling stops.
Screaming: Female. Females scream not only when there is a mouse in the room, but for emphasis and even for attention. The more emphasis that is needed, the louder is the screaming. There appears to be no limit to the number of words that can be screamed by an angry woman.
Memory: Female. Females have much better memory than males. They remember everything that has ever happened to them, everything that has ever been said to them, and by whom.
Memory (misuse of): Female. Women remember all the things that someone did to them, didn't do for them, said to them or didn't say to them, and these memories may be dredged up at any time, often to be used as evidence to bolster their position in a current argument.
Loyalty: Male. Men tend to stick by (and stick up for) their friends and relatives more often than do women.
Reason: Male. Men tend to think things through more logically, except when it comes to women, sex, cars and sports.
Emotion: Female. Women do things because they feel right and tend to empathize with others more so than men.
Sarcasm: Female. If you can remember the most sarcastic thing you have ever heard anyone say, there is a pretty good chance that it was uttered by a woman. Sarcasm is the equivalent of hitting below the belt when used in an argument.
The Big Picture: Male. Men think big, even if they never actually act on their dreams. Bigger is better to most males.
The Little Picture: Female. Women are the master of the detail. Want something complicated done? Give it to a woman. They will not only do it right, but find details that would never occur to a man.
Pouting: It's a tie, sort of. If it has anything to do with sex, it will be a male. If it is anything else, anything at all, it will be a female.
Confusion: Female. A male will rarely admit to confusion, even if he can't tell right from left, up from down, or his ass from his elbow. A woman will more readily admit confusion and will at least be honest about it.
Demonstrative Behaviour: Female. Women have no problem with hugging or kissing in public, whereas men are often embarrassed by such behaviour.
Inappropriate Demonstrative behaviour: Guess.
Laconic: Male. Most men economize with their spoken words. It saves their vocal chords for the whooping and hollering at sports events or monster truck rallies.
Voluble: Female. If it's worth saying once, many women think it is worth saying twice and thrice and more.

Now . . . remember that this is an opinion blog. My opinion. If you disagree, I would love to read your take on the items I have listed and on any others you can think of. I think it would be fun to read female opinions, in particular. Do you agree? Disagree? Why?

A Uniform Shade of Ugly

2007-11-16T11:49:00.000-05:00

It snowed last night. It's cold and wet. Yuck. At my desk, I have my special 'Sun Light Lamp' turned on to try to fool myself that it is sunny and warm. It's not working.

I remember when I was about twelve years old laughing at the geezer next door who always complained that he was cold and that he wanted to live in a hot climate. I'm not laughing now. He ended up moving to Australia but I'm still here in Canada. I like Canadian summers but can't say that the winters are something I look forward to.

Although I was never a great fan of winter sports, I do remember building snow forts as a kid, having snowball fights and skating on ponds near our home. The cold never really bothered me then. Now, it's not really the cold that bothers me either. I rarely zip up my winter coats, in fact I think the zippers to be a nuisance. I never wear a hat, unless it is to keep the sun our of my eyes. It's not the cold, it is the feeling I have that everything is dead and dying and that the world has stopped. Green grass, red and yellow flowers, blue skies, everything is gone. Instead we have a uniform shade of grey. The skies are grey, the landscape is grey, and everything seems to blur into a mush of ugly.

Maybe that's why I love Panama and other more tropical places. There is colour everywhere. Everything is alive. And I don't have to wear socks. That alone is reason enough to seek out a warmer climate. I guess I will have to pack up my sandals for the season and dig out some socks to wear.

Yes, this has been a silly post. Why not? I'm in a silly mood. That's what snow does to me.

Have a great weekend.

Tort and Retort

2007-11-13T15:01:00.000-05:00

I have spent some time over the last few days reading over contracts relating to share purchase and shareholder's agreements, in the one company I operate as president in which I don't own all the shares. I find the stuff in these agreements to be alternately interesting, amusing and frustrating.

The documents have all been drafted by an attorney friend of mine who also happens to be a shareholder in the company. Her work is impeccable, thorough, and insightful. It's not her wording or the inclusion of any particular clauses or paragraphs that I have any problem with, it is the necessity of having elaborate agreements at all between individuals and corporations. Many contracts today are so complex that many of the individuals they are purportedly designed to protect have no idea what they mean. They have to hire an attorney to help them understand all the 'whys' and 'wherefores.' And then, inevitably, if a disagreement arises, two or more parties in opposition and their respective lawyers seek interpretation from a conciliator, a judge, or even a jury. If any agreement needs interpretation, it couldn't have been very clear in the first place. More likely, the law and its myriad twists and turns and prohibitions gets in the way of honest people engaging in honest transactions with each other.

I transact a lot of business without any sort of legal agreement. I make every effort not to interact with crooks and other miscreants in the first place, so I don't often have a problem. I have individual customers who spend up to a quarter of a million dollars every year and they can leave any time they feel that my company doesn't satisfy their needs. Unless customers of my various businesses expressly ask for a contract themselves, we don't ask for one. Why not? Because that way every client is free to seek better service elsewhere, if we let them down.

Most customers understand my reasoning. I don't ever want to become complacent. I want always to work really hard so that the customer returns, not because he is bound by contract but because he is getting excellent service at a reasonable price.

In a perfect world, we would all be able to depend on each other always to do the right thing. Note that I did not say the 'legal' thing. The two words are not synonyms. What is legal is not necessarily right and what is illegal is not necessarily wrong. Whether law and propriety ever coincide depends largely on which group of thugs is in political power at any given time. If everyone always did the right thing, we would have need of legal contracts only to establish things like succession, distribution of assets, and a few other things that would be needed if one of the parties to the agreement dies or becomes mentally incompetent to live up to his obligations.

We are living in a world in which we look outwards for protection. Instead of being careful with whom we associate, we count on contracts to protect us. Instead of thinking for ourselves, we delegate the task to political and bureaucratic masters. Instead of saving and investing for retirement, we count on Social Security to support us. And so on.

I don't like any of this, but it is the way of the world today. I prefer to be able to count on a handshake to seal any deal or promise. That level of trust is becoming increasingly rare. And those who would take advantage of such an arrangement are not so rare anymore. I guess that is why I am reading through all these legal documents. Even though I respect and trust all of the other shareholders, this is the way things are done these days. I better get used to it.

No doom and gloom today

2007-11-09T12:04:00.000-05:00

I think I better lighten up the mood a bit here today. Enough gloom and doom economic and political prognostications in this blog of mine, at least for a day or two. Today, I'm going to write about things that please me. Boring, I know, but there is a lot of good in this world of ours, alongside the stupidity and evil we see every day, so sometimes we just have to settle back and enjoy the good things in life.

I jam once a week or so with another guy about my age. We've been doing this now for a couple of months. We get together in my music room at home, unpack our guitars, and forget about everything else except our music for a couple of hours. Things seemed to click more so than usual this week. We sounded pretty darn good. Because neither of us play from notes and basically just follow each other's lead, depending on whose musical choice we are using that night, it took us a few weeks to get a feel for the playing style of each other and to be able to anticipate what each is going to do next. We appear to have reached that stage and I'm enjoying the experience.

What music do we play? My friend has written some songs and some snippets that may grow up to become songs one day, and we work on them sometimes. Sometimes, he will simply lay down some background chord progressions and I will improvise to them, sort of a jazz/blues mixture. We also do a lot of old (really old) material, my versions of things like Makin' Whoopee, Lover Come Back, Birth of the Blues, and other stuff dating back to the first half of the twentieth century. They don't make melodies like those any more.

Some of the best music ever came from very stressful periods in our history, like during the two world wars in the last century. That should be no surprise, because while it is difficult to pour out our hurt and frustrations to others directly, if we wrap those same feelings in music or poetry, it is somehow okay. Music allows us to express ourselves. It also allows us to lose ourselves in the beauty of well-crafted lyrics, or more importantly (to me, anyway) beautiful melodies and harmonies.

I have written some songs too, but I am saving them for future sessions. Right now, we have plenty of material to work on.

I realized not long ago that some of the things I have enjoyed doing over the years have not gotten much attention from me lately. Photography, for example, is something I have neglected. I used to take a lot of photographs and even developed black and white photographs myself. Now, with digital photography as easy as it is, and no messy chemicals to worry about, I should be taking a lot more photographs. I should be reading more too. I already read a lot, but it is mostly about investing, economics, politics, practical stuff, and I miss reading purely for pleasure. Gotta try to squeeze that in somehow.

It all boils down to one thing: not enough hours in the day, doesn't it? Perhaps, I'm just very inefficient in the intelligent and productive use of my time. I'll have to work on that. Perhaps the first item should be . . . no more naps. I wonder how long I would be able to keep that up.

Why

2007-11-07T15:08:00.000-05:00

One might wonder why I comment on U.S. politics, as I often do. Is it any of my business? Why do I even care? I live, after all, in Canada. I no longer have any U.S. business interests.

I responded to a comment on my last post with some of what I am writing below, but I thought it might be a good idea if I went into a little more detail about my thinking on what is going on in the United States, so here goes:

What happens in the U.S. affects us all, wherever we happen to live. As a child, then a teenager, then a young man I always admired the United States for being a bastion of freedom. I was particularly impressed by the foresight of the founding fathers and the Constitution they crafted. Now, as an older man, I am deeply troubled by what is happening in the States. When its empire collapses, as I believe it will, from the weight of its excesses, we will all suffer. I hope that the U.S. will regain its former status, and the respect of nations and individuals worldwide, but it will be a long and difficult (maybe impossible) struggle.

I love America as a country and I have many American friends that I am worried about. In the very unlikely event that Ron Paul should win the Republican nomination and actually be elected President, he would be but one lonely voice in any effort to make things better, but maybe if enough people (especially the young) got behind him, it would be a start. He may be running as a Republican, but his philosophy is libertarian and and us such he is the one and only candidate who would actually move to dismantle the excesses of the United States federal government and to restore some political and fiscal sanity.

Ron Paul would not be a miracle worker. The problems in the United States are so pronounced that it will take nothing less than a complete fiscal collapse to restore some sense of equilibrium. The United States is bankrupt and has been for years. Still, every year it spends even more money that it does not have, propped up by the printing presses at the Federal Reserve, and the fiscal hole that is being dug gets deeper and deeper. If anything, Ron Paul and his advisers would work to cut expenses, prune entanglements worldwide and work towards restoring self-respect and optimism in many millions of disillusioned Americans.

I used to operate a small trucking company in the United States. Would I open another business there? No. My wife and I planned, years ago, to build a home in the Carolinas somewhere and to spend a lot of our retirement years there. Will I still do that? No.

Why not? Because I am not a pawn. I don't like being told what to do by an overbearing government. I am not a criminal. I don't need the prying eyes of the alphabet soup of American super-agencies scrutinizing everything I say, everything I do, and monitoring my every movement. I am looking elsewhere to do the things I had hoped to do in the United States. Millions of other individuals are making the same decisions as I am. Should anyone in the United States care whether or not I invest there or spend any time there in years to come? Maybe, if you consider that I would never be a drain on the American economy, would always pay my own way, and would never cause anyone any worry about whether I appreciated the good things America had to offer. I would not be ungrateful. I would not attempt to do harm to my adopted home. Consider many of the immigrants that are arriving daily in The Land of The Free. Are they self-supporting? Will they work to help build up the United States or instead strive to tear it down?

Individuals like me could simply write off the U.S. and go on with our lives. The problem is that whenever the U.S. sneezes, the rest of the world catches cold. If the American Economy capsizes, the Canadian economy will tank too. The ripples will be felt in Europe, the mid-East and in China, Japan, Korea, even Russia. When there are no buyers, factories close. Services fold. People are unemployed, lose their possessions, their homes, their security. The United States carries on its shoulders a weight and a responsibility larger than that of any nation in the history of mankind.

That's why I care. I care about myself. I care about my family and relatives. I care about my friends. I care about all of the innocent people who will suffer because the American Empire spent itself into bankruptcy.

That's why I write about American politics from time to time.

One of the good guys . . .

2007-11-06T11:04:00.000-05:00

I don't really want to bore anyone by harping on the same theme all the time, but I want to mention that Ron Paul is gaining momentum in his run seeking nomination for U. S. President. He is getting at least some attention from the mainstream media now, and he has even appeared on Bill Maher's show and on Jay Leno's Tonight Show.

And: Ron Paul, with the help of thousands of volunteers and contributors, raised over four million dollars yesterday, in one day!

You have to admire the guy. He is principled, steadfast, squeaky clean, consistent, bright, and has good instincts. At 72 years of age, why would he run for president? I believe that he genuinely cares about his country and that he would continue to promote adherence to the Constitution of the United States of America -- unlike the other yahoos, from all parties, who see the Constitution as archaic and inconvenient.

Go, Ron Paul! Wouldn't it be something if one of the good guys actually came in first for once? Or is that too much to ask?

Sitting on the fence

2007-11-02T12:14:00.000-04:00

The photograph above, taken in Heidmühlen, Germany, in 1948 or 1949, probably represents the last time that anyone could say I was sitting on the fence. My mischievous uncle Bruno stuck me up there for a joke, then snapped the photograph. My rear-end may have been firmly planted on the fence, but even then I imagine I had a pretty good idea of which side I stood on many issues, at least those of importance to a three-year-old.

The extent to which many individuals are wishy-washy, indecisive, tentative, unsure, astounds me. Too few of us want to take a stand on anything. We sit on the fence until something, usually an external influence of some kind, pushes us to one side or the other and forces us to choose. It is a lot easier not to take a position on anything; that way we don't have to defend our premise, or our words or actions. Let the other guy speak and think for us.

I don't like it when others think and speak for me. I'm not arrogant enough to think that there is no-one smarter than I am. There are a lot of people smarter than I. I don't believe for a moment that there are no other principled and consistent individuals in the world. I happen to have friends that are all of these things: smart, principled and consistent. The problem is that these individuals seldom end up in positions where the wrong decisions screw up my life. It's the pragmatists, the compromisers, the world-improvers, the unprincipled yahoos who end up as politicians and enforcers, who make our lives hell.

Let's stop sitting on the fence. If you feel, as I do, that too many idiots make too many decisions that are bad for us, do something about it. Write letters to the editor. Join your local or national Libertarian Party. Write blog posts in defence of liberty. Hold politicians responsible. They fear more than anything else losing their status and power. Lobby against the dolts and the power-hungry maniacs who want to control you and your money.

The fence is no place to be. It is, in every sense, a pain in the ass to both the sitter and everyone else.

London, Ontario, has an exciting day.

2007-10-31T10:50:00.000-04:00

Downtown London (Ontario) is a disaster today. There is a giant sinkhole at the main intersection of the city (Dundas and Wellington Streets) and there are sections of the city without power because of cut power lines. Traffic conditions might best be described as chaotic. No, there was no terror attack. The problem, I imagine, is because London's infrastructure, as it is in many North American cities, is decaying. There is always money for frippery it seems, but not always for what really matters like drainage systems, water mains, sewers, and for fixing London's ubiquitous potholes.

One of the businesses I operate is a courier/messenger service. The drivers are having a lot of fun (he said sarcastically) getting around today. It seems that the people who are working in our downtown London buildings are still churning out documents and whatnot for our drivers to deliver, and are using candlelight to illuminate their workspaces. Maybe my drivers should be abandoning their vehicles and doing their deliveries on horseback instead. Where is the nearest stable?

I have read some pretty alarming facts and statistics about the state of infrastructure in North America. What has happened here in London today is going to be happening more and more frequently across Canada and the United States. Systems that should have been replaced decades ago are still in place and are growing more dangerous every day. As far as I know, no-one has been hurt by the sinkhole here in London, thank goodness.

I'm waiting to see what is going to happen next.

Update: My operations manager just popped his head into my office (yes, his body was attached) to announce that a downtown shopping mall is going to be shut down for at least a week, and a large office tower complex would be closed for a minimum of two days.

A windfall in the lottery of life

2007-10-30T08:34:00.000-04:00

This year's London Health Sciences Foundation millionaire dream home is on the street where I live, about a block away from my home. So was last year's. We didn't check out last year's offering, but curiosity got the better of us and we toured this year's home a couple of weeks ago. A million dollars doesn't go as far as it used to.

I mention this because I dropped in on my cousin's son's blog and was pleased to learn that his parents had just won a million dollar home lottery in British Columbia. Having lived several thousand miles apart for most of our lives, I can't say that I know my cousin or her husband very well, but they seem like nice, upright people and I congratulate them.

Co-incidentally, I was speaking with my chiropractor a few days ago, and in one of our typically rambling conversations he happened to mention that many lottery winners are no better for the experience after a few years. He speculated that this might be due to the fact that we tend to appreciate most what we earn ourselves, and that windfalls are often used foolishly because there is no real value attributed to them.

I think that is true, at least to a point. I think though that the bigger issue is one's overall outlook on life. I think that the 'if only' individuals among us ("if only I had a better job, a bigger house, a bigger car, a prettier wife, I would be happy") discover that when they can afford the things they thought were lacking, they are no happier than before. Those people who are already content with their lives, I think, will behave more responsibly and get more pleasure out of the windfall because they never expected anything other than their own efforts to make them happy in the first place.

If I won a million dollars or more, what would I do? Pretty much the same as I am doing now. Would I retire? No. I love what I do and need the stimulation and challenge of running businesses and completing projects. Would my lifestyle change dramatically? No. I might buy a newer car and take a special vacation with my family. Otherwise, things wouldn't change much. I would just do more of the same. Instead of investing just in Panama, I would also buy land in Argentina, Ecuador and Uruguay. Would I be any happier? Nope. I'm a pretty happy camper already.

I think my cousin and her husband are going to do just fine. Judging by the kids they have raised, individuals I actually know a bit better than their parents by virtue of email exchanges and being able to read their blogs, I would say that they are level-headed enough to do the right things and to enjoy their new-found wealth. Good for them.

I wonder, should I run down to the convenience store and buy a lottery ticket? Maybe, while I'm at it, I could pick up a dream home ticket as well. Hmm, there is a casino not far from my office, maybe I could drop in there on my way home tonight.

Or maybe not. I think instead I will give my wife and son extra big hugs tonight, and be grateful for what I already have.

Singing and living the blues . . .

2007-10-29T12:32:00.000-04:00

I went to a music club with a new friend this past Saturday night . It was probably the first time in twenty-five years or more that I visited a place like this. It was fun. My friend, a jamming partner who moved to London recently, was a fan of the featured performer at the club and asked me if I wanted to tag along. The performer had achieved some measure of success as a folk artist, decades ago, but performed mostly blues at the gig we attended on Saturday.

I like blues. It typically has simply structured chord patterns, repeated over and over again, a form that invites improvisation in the lead parts, usually played by guitar. This performer sang some songs he had written and versions of songs by Robert Johnson and other early blues greats, taking lengthy instrumental leads in each song on his slide guitar. I watched his performance with interest and watched the crowd's reactions as well. I am always curious about how people act and react in any setting, and this was a great place to do that.

During one of the breaks, my friend commented to me that he found it curious that the audience was most appreciative of the noisiest parts of the song, when the guy was almost randomly moving the slide up and down the fretboard, crashing the strings with slide and fingers both, to create sounds that were both frenzied and discordant. When the guy played some really interesting riffs, requiring real skill and 'heart,' the crowd was silent.

That is the sort of thing that I would notice, and I was impressed that my friend noticed it too. People often react to, and are impressed by, flash and verve -- more so than by substance and skill. Noise rules. Nuance is ignored. So it is in music,and so it is with everything else.

Who are the politicians that get all the attention? Why, the ones who are best at posturing, or at pounding away at the strings of our hearts, of course. It is no accident that politicians appeal to our emotions rather than to our intellect. Actions ruled by emotion are seldom rational. We do things because they 'feel' right and tend to regret them afterwards.

I enjoyed the evening listening to the blues. At the end of it, I was able to go home and would be able to choose for myself whether ever to listen to that artist again, or whether to purchase his CD's or to attend another show, if ever he is back in town again. Not so with politicians. Once you become part of their gig, once they are elected to office, you're stuck. You keep paying over and over and over... long after they're voted out of office and even long after they die. And then your kids pay and pay and pay.

Personally, I'd rather listen to a good artist sing and play the blues than to have any politician make me blue by interfering with my life and stealing my money.

How about you?