“Mistakes are a part of being human. Appreciate your mistakes for what they are: precious life lessons that can only be learned the hard way. Unless it’s a fatal mistake, which, at least, others can learn from.” Al Franken.

I’ve learned something over the last couple of days. Actually, I’ve learned several things. I’ve learned that you can really piss people off if you give any hint of an opinion to either side of a controversial social issue; I’ve learned that people are very passionate about their views on those issues and will argue their points supporting them even if the discussion does not directly involve said issue; I’ve learned that you can disappoint people because of those views; I’ve learned that making a casual statement supporting one side of certain issues spurs others to believe you are passionately standing on that issue.

My last posting was about some news items and blog postings that had caught my eye that day. The web-cam image in my sidebar had the typical RDF weather conditions in St. John’s and struck me as blogworthy. A couple of CBC News feed stories perked my senses, one about a St. John’s woman treated unjustly by a Universal Studios employee because she was breastfeeding her child in a public area of the them park and another story about Ottawa’s plans to impose heavy fines on smokers who smoke within 30 feet of a bus stop. Finally, I read a blond joke that I hadn’t heard before. (Insert double-take here… HOLD the phone Steve… back up a couple of sentences.)

Did I type the word “breastfeeding”? Uh oh. Steve! You are such a moron!

Take this post as kind of a qualified retraction of my opinion. Firstly, I’m not that passionately opinionated about the issue of publicly displayed breastfeeding. I have been witness to it on several occasions in my lifetime. It attracts neither disapproval nor matter-of-fact approval from me. It does attract the same kind of curious, looking-out-of-the-corner-of-the-eye whisper-to-your-companion kind of attention as would a homosexual couple openly displaying their mutual affection in public. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. (Ok, I’m not gay-bashing, I’m just saying… oh, no… am I digging another hole?) It’s simply not ubiquitous enough to blend into the background unnoticed.

The real point I so poorly attempted to make was that folks should not be offended about others noticing you doing something that challenges the currently established social or cultural norm. For example: Yesterday, living together outside the sanctity of marriage was considered “living in sin”. Today, marriage without this “test drive” is uncommon. So, yesterday, it might have been common for people to have been met with social pressure or criticism for shacking up outside of wedlock. Today, it’s met with a shrug. No big deal. Yesterday it would have been unreasonable to expect premarital cohabitation to be accepted outright. Today it would be unreasonable to be morally questioned for the exact same thing.

This young lady was simply doing the natural thing. She was providing her child with life-giving nourishment in the way that biology intended. It would be hard to argue that she wasn’t doing what was best for her child. But… and there is a but… she did so in a city that was not her own, in a country that she was a guest in, in a culture that is not openly accepting of this oh-so-natural act of love. While it is arguable that the Universal Studios employee was being unreasonable in her stance (this is evidenced by the public apology issued by the company), it is equally arguable that it was unreasonable for this lady to expect that what she did would be automagically accepted by all who observed her behaviour.

So, ladies… feed you children to your heart’s content. Line them up two by two and sell tickets to the show. Sell the extras to Tim Horton’s and Cracker Barrel for all I care. Unless I feel strongly about it, you’ll not see me write about this anytime in the near future. I’ll keep my posts benign and limited to non-controversial topics like genetic engineering, stem cell research, religion in schools, religion in general, vegetarianism, affirmative action, capital punishment, right-to-life, the seal hunt, corporal discipline, cloning, gun control, circus animals, euthanasia, censorship, hunting, sex education, gambling, and whether Miller Lite has great taste or is less filling.

The other day at work I asked a co-worker how his day was going as we passed each other in the hallway. I’m certain when he grumbled about how frustrating his day was he was not prepared for the philosophical response he was going to get from me.

You see, I’m a firm believer that all things are relative. You can adjust your attitude by simply adjusting your perspective on the here and now. Sure, you could say that your day is going roughly, but compared to what? Compared to someone who has just lost his job and fears he may not be able to feed his family? At least you have a job, right?

But that’s a little extreme, right Stevie boy? Yes, I agree. You could ALWAYS invent a situation worse than the one you are experiencing. “Ouch, I stubbed my toe!” “Hey. Be thankful you didn’t get it frozen on a food-less trek across the Arctic and have your feet frozen and get gangrene in them and have them amputated from the knee down. You’d be wishing for a stubbed toe then, fella!”

That’s not how I approach it though. I dig into my personal experience, or the life of someone close to me. I once worked at McDonald’s. I was a manager there for almost five years before I got smart and went back to school. I’m not knocking the work; I learned a lot about work ethic, dealing with people, customer service etc. But it is a pretty shitty place to try to make a living. You work like a dog for every penny you earn. Besides my experience at McDonald’s, my last job had me working 70 to 90 hours a week for almost 18 months straight. I stressed out beyond my limits and saw no rewards for my labours. Only criticism, promises of more pay or bonuses that never came, and missed out on a lot of family time.

So, when I compare my job today with my jobs then, things aren’t so bad. I work basically, 9ish to 5ish. The environment is clean, there is free coffee, and it doesn’t smell like a deep-fryer. The pay is a little bit better than it was when I worked at Rotten Ronnie’s. The hours are much better than my prior office job. I have my health and so does my immediate family. Things are good for me. Sometimes the work is hard, but not as bad as it was.

You see, I didn’t need to reach into the bowels of my imagination to imagine a fate worse than death to find that relativity that re-positions my perspective. I simply look to another point in time of my own life. I remember when things were worse than they are today, or I put myself in the position of a person close to me who has it worse than I have it.

Things don’t look so bad. They could be better, but they certainly could be worse.

Have a great day folks. Be thankful for what you have.

Monday, Oct 8, 2007 - Canadian Thanksgiving.

You know, we all have problems. Lately, I’ve had a couple of occasions where I know I’ve rubbed folks the wrong way. I’ve approached difficult situations with the best of intentions but somehow they’ve seemed to backfire on me. I’ve been forced to choose between the lesser of two evils only to be left wondering afterwards if I’d made the right choices. It’s easy to start feeling down when you start to doubt you own normally good judgment. It’s easy to be pissed off at life.

But, today is Thanksgiving. If you take it seriously, then you should take some time this day to give thanks and appreciate the good things in your life. You should count your blessings. I have many. And I am thankful for them.

There’s a song by Montgomery Gentry that nails it for me. Lucky Man does a good job driving home this very point. Here’s a portion of the lyrics:

I have days where I hate my job
This little town and the whole world too
Last Sunday when my Bengals lost
Lord, it put me in a bad mood
I got moments when I curse the rain
Then complain when the sun’s too hot
I look around at what everyone has
And I forget about all I got

But I know I’m a lucky man
God’s given me a pretty fair hand
Got a house and a piece of land
A few dollars in a coffee can
My old truck’s still running good
My ticker’s tickin’ like they say it should
I got supper in the oven, a good woman’s lovin’
And one more day to be my little kid’s dad
Lord knows I’m a lucky man.

I wanted to include a video of the song, but found it difficult to find it. But I did find this YouTube video of some dude doing a very good job on the song.

Blogging for FrUstratioN. That’s what I do. Mustering up the creative juices to find something to write about is a challenge.

You see, according to Jody at SWT, I’ve taken this website and made it my own. He says it has “personality”. Trying to live up to that is a lot of freakin’ pressure. It’s tough to perform when your fans tune in expecting “personality”, whatever the jeepers that is. I think it means I’m interesting but not attractive, like Joe Pesci. It might mean that I have content that relates to my life, not just stuff I’ve found on the internet that is unique or weird. I’ve put these types of posts up before, but I don’t find them very satisfying, creatively speaking. I mean, toilet bowl fishtanks and flashlight slippers are creative ideas, but blogging about them feels like buying a lasagna and passing it off as homemade.

Sometimes I think I can get a post springboarded from a clever phrase, a play on words, or interesting quote. Shoot low boys, they’re riding Shetland Ponies. The blond leading the blond. The price of freedom of speech is that we must put up with a good deal of rubbish. Any of these could kick off an interesting rant, but could also serve as proof that Robert Jackson was right about the freedom of speech rubbish thingy. I mean, how do you get your post to be as interesting as the clever tagline that inspired it?

I often find inspiration in desperation. Posts about negative events in my life wind up being my most popular ones. These posts seem to entertain the most, but require pre-payment of cash or gray hairs. My sanity and wallet can only afford so much of this type of inspiration.

Then there’s always writing about nothing, or writing about how hard it is to find something to write about. Such is the topic of this post. Good ol’ faithful complaints about writer’s block are always superb fillers for creative imagination. Thank GOD for the ability to bitch about not being able to find a topic to write about!

But, enough about me and my problems. Let’s talk about you. You guys out there reading this are not totally without responsibility in this little venture so aptly named “Oh Me Nerves!” You guys have a job to do too. You have the job of motivating the author. “How do I do that?”, you ask. Leave comments on my posts. Tell me what you think… leave a smartass remark… just say “hi”. Alternatively, cash is a suitable replacement for comments if you are too shy to type a couple of words.

So, here’s your homework, my faithful readers. If you have read this post, leave a comment. Consider it an Oh Me Nerves roll call. Include four things:

1. Your name (first name is fine) and location.
2. Roughly how often you check in to this blog (daily, weekly, every now and then, you just fluked upon this post today, etc)
3. A complimentary comment regarding the content of this blog, its format, or the rugged good looks of its charming author (see pic included here for inspiration).
4. (Optional) A topic for discussion on one of my future posts.

There’s been some debate recently whether the penny stills has a place in monetary transactions today.

People complain that they are useless, you can’t buy anything with them, they cost too much to manufacture. Their value is practically worthless. You can’t even buy a candy with a penny anymore. But… intentionally omit giving someone their pennies in their coffee change and they get pissed off, I can guarantee you. A Tim’s coffee comes to $1.24 and change from a toonie is 76 cents. Not 75 cents. 76. You wanna tick someone off, keep that penny.

I don’t place much value in pennies. My litmus test for the value of a coin is whether or not I would bend to pick one up off the ground. Depending on the situation or social scenario, I might pass over a nickel or a dime, rarely a quarter, and almost never a loonie or toonie. However, I can honestly say that I would never creak my spinal cord for the sake of a penny.

This doesn’t mean, however, that I don’t care about pennies, or the value they represent. Removing pennies from circulation would effectively increase the cost of everything we buy. My paranoid mind tells me that every price would be rounded up to the nearest nickel, not down. The pennies add up. Not just for corporate profit, but for social benefit. Many charities count on the value of the collected penny to support their causes.

… not to mention the figures of speech we would have to change. A penny for your thoughts, penny wise and pound foolish, in for a penny in for a pound, in like a penny out like a lamb, lucky penny, a penny saved is a penny earned, why did the penny cross the road, pennies from heaven, two pennies to rub together, happier than a pig in pennies, lucky penny, penny lane, that costs a pretty penny, penny loafers, turn an honest penny, not one red cent, and hey mister can you spare a penny. These phrases make absolutely no sense when penny is replaced with nickel. Uhm… well… maybe some of them do.

My two cents… what do you think?

What the…?!?

On my way to work this morning, I heard a news story about this guy who got a speeding ticket in northern New Brunswick somewhere. It is important to note that this area is predominantly French speaking. Well this guy gets pulled over and the officer speaks to him in French. The guy gets his ticket, brings it to court, and gets let off because the officer didn’t offer him his choice of service in either official language.

Huh?!? That’s frigged up. The guy is fluent in both languages, but gets away with a speeding ticket because he wasn’t offered service in both? Was he speeding in English?

If the officer couldn’t speak the language the guy spoke, I would almost understand the point. I only speak English, so when someone (a cop, a store clerk, a co-worker, someone on the street) speaks to me in French, I say “eh uh, huh?” and they switch to English. THAT should be the law to abide by, not wasting time with “Pardonnez moi, monsieur, Excuse me sir, voulez vous servicez en francais, or would you like me to parlez in English eh?”

Give me a freakin’ break.