My talent was to display that my dog lacks talent. Here take a look!!

Oh stay at home, my lad, and plough
The land and not the sea,
And leave the soldiers at their drill,
And all about the idle hill
Shepherd your sheep with me.

Oh stay with company and mirth
And daylight and the air;
Too full already is the grave
Of fellows that were good and brave
And died because they were.

The station plays classical music and the song that played, while I
don’t know the name (shame) was beautiful and I recognized it right
away.

It was the same genre of music my grandfather would be playing when I
got home from school as a kid and as I got older, burned to an mp3 cd
when he and I traveled to Europe.

Imagine, driving through the coast in the south of france, up on a cliff,
this beautiful music playing over my beautiful back drop while
Grandad, smitten with glee to be a passenger taking it all in.

It brought me to a deep state of peace. I miss that old man. Scotch tonight,

Mini travel day, this time only a 2 hour jaunt from Lake Garda to Lido di Jesolo, just outside of Venice. The benefit of having an uncomfortable bed meant that we were up and ready to go by 9 am – can I just say that I was showered packed and we had eaten breakfast in the dining room by this time. I know, this vacation has changed me a little.

We were in Jesolo by noon and I was sprawled out on our hotel’s private beach front looking on to the Mediterranean Sea. The breeze was perfect. The view was amazing. The sun was crisp without a cloud in the sky to obstruct its rays. Heavenly. Ron joined me after his jog and we both basked in the sun until it was time to make our way out to dinner. Another phenomenal meal topped off with a walk and some gelato. Like Paris, Italy has spoiled me for everyday life. I’m already contemplating when I can make it back for more 

Ron

Jeselo is the “vacation” destination for the Italians. This time around it is MUCH cheaper. I know the recession wasn’t a good thing however my bank account has benefited from the cheaper accommodations and restaurant bills.

We are staying a beautiful hotel just a hop, skip and a jump from the sea.
The beach front stretches on for about 5 kilometers and is littered with swank hotels.
Each hotel has a private lounge area on the beach and we took full advantage. I tanned the nicest red yet.

I always eat at the same restaurant when in Jeselo. As you will see from the pictures below, the food is tremendously well prepared. Eating good food has not been a problem on this trip.

For all pictures, click here.

The bed was not comfortable, but the views more than made up for that fact. Barely awake, I stumbled out onto our balcony to breathe in the fresh air and look up into the mountains as the morning mist was still rising.

The plan for the morning was to drive around during the morning and early afternoon to visit the surrounding little villages. I was supremely pumped. Ron, on the other hand, looked like a lost boy. See, when we came in for the night after a long drive, Ron was setting up his laptop only then to notice that he had forgotten the power cord at the Frohmader residence. Since that realization, withdrawal had set in hard. The plan was to check out one of the locale towns which he knew to have an internet café to see if he could find some way to charge his laptop and/or get his pc fix in. Luckily as we wandered around checking out shop after shop (and by we I mean me; Ron had his backpack with laptop gear trudging along downtrodden) when we came across the local office supply store which also had pc equipment, including a universal laptop power adapter. This was to be Ron’s souvenir from Lake Garda.

Spirits lifted and we headed back to the villa to cool down (walking around in +28 degrees makes one crave being pool/lake side). We took in some sun, a nice swim for Ron (after being thrown in, I also enjoyed the pool) and some gelato down by the lake which happened to be directly across the street from our hotel. Hours faded quickly as we read and napped under the hot Italian sun. We found our way to Mecesine for a fantastic meal of four cheese gnocchi and pizza, topped off with more gelato and a complimentary limoncello. The service was exceptional and the owner lived up to my expectations/visions.

Once we haggled a bit with the parking lot meter (silly tourists!), made our way back to our uncomfortable bed.

Ron

I love Lake Garda. Many a good night I had with my Granfather as this is where I usually let the belt loose and drank the nights away.

The hotel, call “hotel Isabella” is located directly on the lake in a town called Benton. Directly next door is a pizzeria called “Di Pipo’s Pizza” which has the best pizza I have ever eaten. This is saying a lot since I love to eat pizza.

Meghan and I headed over there after our walk and swim and………. New owners!!!! Ok, not to worry its still called a pizzeria. Oh what, you just haven’t changed the signage, you don’t serve pizza. Crap, well, I just had the soup. Still god though.

Dinner was great in the evening and relaxing by the pool was much needed. Tomorrow we have a quick 2 hour drive to Lido Jeselo which is just outside of Venice.

To see all of our photos, click here.

ANOTHER TRAVEL DAY.

12 hours!!!!!! To top it off we left late from Watwill so we arrived at our destination just before midnight.

The day was filled with highway however we did divert to take the back, back, back roads of the Swiss Alps and went over (and up 8000 ft).
We arrived in Lake Garda at the Hotel Issabella and fell into a deep sleep on an uncomfortable bed!!!

Meghan

This was definitely a long day. The view throughout this trip was largely dull, due to the highway nature of our route. Oddly, this led me to observe the complete lack of advertising billboards all along the roads as is the norm in North America making for a rather pleasant trip through the Swiss country side.

We spent some time on the Swiss-Italian border town of Montreau, taking in one last view of Lake Geneva and sipping on some delicious Starbucks. That’s right, I said it. Starbucks. In this city, it was the cheapest game in town.

Next on our route was the Great St. Bernard passage over the Alps. This climb was definitely tough on our little VW Polo but Ron whipped him up into the mountains, usually having to resort to driving strickly in 1st gear. These were some steep roads. Not only were they steep, but they were narrow and hugged the cliff sides that lacked any form of barrier. I may have sworn a couple times as we ripped around some of the sharp bends in the mountain. The views on the way up were as gorgeous as they were on the way back down into the Italian side of the Alps.

Standing on top of the Alps at the highest point accessible by public roads was not something I ever thought I would be able to do. Not because of any limitations or fears but due to what I thought was limited accessibility. I didn’t even know one could simply (well, not easy) drive up and see the tops of the mountains, having the peaks within an arms reach (kind of). I scooped up some of the snow covering one of the peaks to keep as a souvenir. Ron laughed, but I thought it was a great souvenir for myself. I called my Dad from this spot and told him all about the views and updated him on the progress we were making on our adventure.

Next stop was Lake Garda. As soon as we got down to what can be considered the base of the Alps in Italy, we hit the highway hard for 4 hours…would have been a brutally long trip if the average driving speed wasn’t 140 km/hr.

To see all of the pics, click here.

The previous nights romp with the locals at the pub gave way to a solid morning of sleeping in. When we did eventually manage to crawl out of bed, we were invited to the downstairs neighbor’s (Ueli) patio for coffee, orange juice and butter croissants. Further evidence that Wattwil is filled with very friendly and welcoming people and friends of the Frohmader clan are treated with special care.

Our conversation with Ueli, Ursula (Ueli’s wife) and Paul covered many broad topics. The main takeaway is that the Swiss are very organized, have no qualms about letting their government ensure the citizens are well cared for and that taxes apply to nearly every aspect of life. But this is not looked down on, rather it is somewhat appreciated as it allows the Swiss to live nearly worriless lives. Or at least, that is the impression Paul left us. In describing our lack of taxation for the many things he is familiar with, he seems to think we do not know what we speak of. Very interesting conversation.

After a few minutes to freshen up and get a load of laundry going, we were rounded up for a luncheon at Paul’s house. His wife had just returned from their summer home in Luganno and his children, Pascale and Natalie, were home for the weekend. This luncheon ended up being quite the feast: chicken (quarters and breasts), famous St. Gallen bratwurst, tomato and cheese salad, fresh bread and fondue, salad and wine. Needless to say, I was not hungry for dinner today.

Paul took the rest of the afternoon to show us around Wattwil and the surrouding towns. The very winding roads climbing to various altitudes got to me by days end and so Ron and I ended our day on a relaxing note, watching a movie.

Ron

The impression I am left with after a few days in Wattwil is that the Swiss are very personable. The moment we arrived at the apartment we were greeted by a man named Paul Sibold.

Paul, a self made man came across humble and hospitable. We later learned that he owns pretty much half the land all the buildings were situated on around us so when the bartender kept joking that Paul was “the real boss” it turns out he wasn’t lying.

Paul spoke good enough English and spent the night entertaining all of my questions about Switzerland as I had many. The Swiss are an interesting nation. Firstly, all men must serve in the military deep into their adult lives, every year. Every man owns an automatic riffle given to them by the government.
The Swiss are very familiar with “black” and “white” money as I am sure you know what that implies by the Swiss banking practices. The more Paul explained it to me the more I was like “yes, I am totally for this black and white money” and then realized that a lot of my income falls into this “black and white” world.

Paul has a solar farm in his back yard and sells his electricity back to the government. I was AMAZED to hear about this practice and have already been researching how to get solar panels installed in my home. This will be my summer project most definitely. (Meghan: “I think Ron has a Swiss crush”)

Paul explained how the transportation system works all over Switzerland and I must say it’s impressive. Everyone has a “pass” that allows for bus and train travel. Most people don’t have cars and get around quicker via rail. Both his kids come regularly to house to visit from other cities and easily make it to the house via rail and bus.

Anyway enough about my new found crushes on the Swiss, I have to go read up on Solar Panels now.

By far my favorite day. We awoke in Geneva Switzerland and enjoyed our complimentary breakfast. After getting ready we set out for Pontarlier which borders Switzerland and France. This was the location my Grandfather had brought my Grandmother many times.
Leaving Geneva you drive along Lake Geneva until reaching the top. The lake is beautiful to say the least and once we arrived at the top we had lunch in a town called Morges. There was a market taking place and Meghan bought a very fancy necklace.

We left Morges and traveled North to the French border. The road we took was very important to me. On a random side road in a town I could not remember was a tree that bore my Granddads hand carving. Granddad brought me to the tree every time I came with him. There is a picture of him at it below. He chizzled into the tree “Geoff and Dilys” with all the dates they had visited the tree. More about that in a minute.

When heading to the border there is specific route to travel to see this tree and I could not recall how to get to that route. I was only familiar with the route on the way back from Pontarlier to Geneva. We drove 60 kms to Pontarlier and every time I saw a layby (picnic area on the side of the road) I would get excited and antsy. None of those laybys were not the right spot.

We made it to Pontarlier and found the hotel my Grandfather had been many times. There is a woman owner who knows my Granddad well. Many a year he would travel there and he and this woman would have conversations trying to understand each other. Geoff in English and she in French. She told us later that they often resorted to picture drawing.

When we arrived in the afternoon she was there and she remembered me (as I had been there 3 times before with Granddad). I so wished Granddad could have been there as Meghan and the owner spoke so gracefully to each other. It almost brought me to tears as this lady, whom I thought at times was annoyed with my Granddads broken attempts to speak French with her came to life and was so happy to talk about my Grandfathers trips and time together.

I informed her of his passing and she poured us a drink at the bar. There we sat and Meghan translated for us as we shared about each others lives.
After the visit we departed for the town. The town has 2 historic Castles that sit on top of the mountains overlooking the entrance into the town.

We ventured to the top of the 1 of the castles. In the town we stocked up on French wine (6 bottles) and food. We left the city and traveled back down towards Switzerland in order to find this tree.

There is a town called Valorabe which has a stream running through it. I think it is one of the nicest pictures I have ever taken and I knew it was on the route back. When we entered the town Meghan was ready to pounce with her Ninja Photography skills. She took a picture of every angle of this stream. They look fantastic!!!

Shortly after Valorabe is the location of my Granddads tree. I arrived very excited and then very disappointed. In the area of trees where it should have been were about 6 tree stubs. It had been cut down and quite recently it appeared. I don’t know what is was about the tree but seeing it gone was like the last physical thing I had of Granddad. It was just another painful reminder. I was glad to make it all the way back there though.

We left and started our 3 hour drive to Wattwil Switzerland. Wattwil is in the middle of no-where. I love it here.

Meghan

Another beautiful, sunshiny day. We hit the road mid-morning headed for … I have no idea. All I know is that our ultimate destination was outside of Zurich. The in-between was in Ron’s hands.

The drive was filled with incredible sights and unbelievable views of the mountains over looking Lake Geneva. We stopped in the village surrounding Chateau Morges. The beautiful Saturday weather welcomed both locals and tourists to the waterfront market place. Wandering, we came across a number of vendors, one of which had beautifully crafted silver jewelry which he had designed. His charming salesmanship and a gorgeous necklace both won me over. After a bite to eat at the waters edge, we hit the road to Pontarlier. Once in Pontarlier, I was very happy that Ron recognized the proprietor of the hotel which was often visited by his grandfather over the past 20 odd years.

She was not in the least bit capable of speaking English. I translated for Ron and her as they reminisced about their memories of Grand-dad. I felt like an intruder in their memories and privileged that I was able to participate in the conversation, even if it was just as a communicative aid. I’m very happy she showed up to the Hotel early today.

Before wandering back into Switzerland, we explored the Chateau de Pontarlier which served as a fort in the 14th and 15th century as well as a stronghold against the Nazi invasion of France during the early years of the second World War.

We headed back toward Lusanne, Switzerland, on the hunt for Grand-dad’s tree. On the way, we stumbled across the most beautiful view in the southern region of Switzerland. I took a few pictures…surprise surprise  The next hour was dedicated to locating the memory tree…Ron describes this part of our day far better than I ever could.

We finally made it to Wattwil, the small town in which the Frohmader villa is located. We were both very happy to finally reach our destination. We were greeted by the Frohmader’s neighbor and friend, Paul. He showed us what was to be our quarters for the next few days. This included a brief history lesson about the Frohmader clan and their relationship with Paul’s family over the years. The lesson gave way to the short walk to the pub for several pints and great conversation with the locals, with the Switzerland v. Italia football game filling the background.

From the sounds of it, the arrival of the Canadians was quite the news. We were introduced to the pub’s manager and granted full access to nearly limitless pints. Wilkommen to Wattwil!

Firstly, I’d like to apologize to our ‘followers’ for the delay in posting about our last day in Paris. We have been very busy taking in the sights of the continent.

This morning, we were awaken by the bright sunshine glowing through our hotel window. After a quick breakfast, during which time I stocked up on baguettes and cheese for the road, we hit up the local deli and grocers for some meat and fruits. Next stop, Switzerland.

For anyone planning on taking a trip to any country which they are not familiar with, we highly recommend investing in a GPS system. Pretty sure Ron has praised the wonders of our GPS in previous days. But let me tell you, not only does it make navigating roads and unanticipated construction pleasant, it has probably saved us from frustrations with one another that would have been almost inevitable given the fact that neither of us have patience for not knowing what we are doing.

Getting out of Paris was not as bad as some would think. Once we got on the autoroute, there were very few incidents of slowing down or traffic. The French countryside was beautiful. Thank goodness Ron didn’t stop every time I wanted to take a picture or else we would still be in the French fields.

We crossed into Switzerland as vigilantes. Let me explain. As we came up to the border crossing, we spoke to a border guard who indicated to us to pull over to the side to speak with another man. Given that I have a non-Euro passport, neither Ron nor I thought much of it. When the man finally approached our vehicle, he explained that we had to pay a toll – an autoroute toll – which we have since renamed the tourist tax. Since neither of us could find any reason to give the Swiss government 30euros, we told the man we did not intend on going into Geneva (the city of the border crossing) the officer directed us to a way which we could turn around. This detour happened to require us to get onto the road away from Geneva. Needless to say, we didn’t take the detour back into France. Hence, vigilantes.

We traveled up to the Centre Europeen pour la Research Nucleaire, aka CERN and the house of the Large Hadron Collider, where we saw the outer offices and the time table indicating that we were too late to get a tour of the facility. Next stop was our hotel in Geneva. Navigating the Geneva streets and traffic may end up being the most unpleasant experience of our journey, between construction and poor traffic light timing. We reached the hotel tired and starving.

Getting out of the car helped our spirits perk up. We walked the couple of blocks from our hotel to Lake Geneva. Tucked away from the main Lake side drive, we dined at a delicious Italian bistro (the Swiss appear to love their Italian bistros) called Chez Lopez. I had fabulous wood fire cooked lasagna covered in cheese and vodka sauce. Delicious!

Our evening was made complete with some ice cream and a moonlit stroll along the lake and city before retiring for some much needed ZZZs.

Ron

A driving day. I really don’t mind driving so long as “This American Life” is on the radio and I know where I am going. Thank goodness for the GPS (or as we have nick-named and genderised her as “GP”).

Paris to Geneva is about a 5 hour drive. Add to that 1 hours to get out of Paris, an accident on the highway backed us up another hour and 2 hours of traffic into Geneva made for a very long driving day indeed.

Driving from one area to the other in Europe is very different. Firstly in respect to the physical roads they weave and sway all through the mountains as though they have a personality where ours back home are just straight; lacking character. The roads here are also in mint condition and the maximum speed limit is 130 km/h.

Saying all of that you would think I favor the European roads however this is not the case. As I have been speaking to the locals here I have been informed about some interesting facts.
The roads are in mint condition because they are well paid for. The “tourist” tax that Meghan mentioned earlier is not a tourist tax at all. Every driver (local or tourist) have to pay a fee to drive the auto route (highway) in Switzerland. If you drive on it once or everyday its 30 Euros for the entire year meaning for the 3 days we are here I have to pay the same rate as the local who drives it 365 days. If you do not have a ticket indicating you have paid then you can be fined 200 Euros.

In France, it’s different (and worse). You pay only when you drive the route (which is great is you only drive locally or don’t have a car). When we entered the auto route out of Paris we received a ticket and when we attempted to leave the auto route coming into Switzerland it was 40 Euros for 1 direction. Thinking about that makes me appreciate North American high ways much more. I can drive from Toronto to Calgary and pay nothing to drive.

To see all of our pictures, click here.

Firstly, let me introduce the newest member to my shoe family.

Today was another beautiful day! Meghan and I, well rested set off for the Louvre just before lunch.
On the way there we found an amazing park which has a name but I’ll let Meghan pronounce down below. There we had lunch (left overs from our heisted breakfast) and basked in the sun. Filled with locals and tourists its hard to appreciate when you are sitting there; so much to take in!
I could see so many things working in harmony, everything had its place. I tried to imagine myself 4-500 years ago sitting in the same spot and wondering what the people of the day thought of this place. Clearly this is one of the most beautiful places on earth but did the people back then think the same?

The Louvre was…. Well lets just say Meghan enjoyed it. I have been to the Louvre and already know that everything is in French. There are so many wings to travel down (you have to pay for each area) yet because we had to see the Mona Lisa (of course you have to see it) we went to the same wing I had already been to.

Don’t get me wrong – I enjoyed it the first time I went and spent much of the day there listening about the pictures from an English CD recording however I find my issue with it all is that you have AMAZING, important, historical art and everyone rushes by it with the mentality of “well isn’t that nice, ok, where is the Mona Lisa?” Once you get to the Mona Lisa – BAM – disappointment sets in.

The Mona Lisa, probably the most lacking painting in the entire building is undoubtedly the most famous. Hundreds of people crowded around snapping pictures of it and yet so many other amazing (and probably more important historical paintings) are left with no appreciation.

Hey – check out all of pictures with Mona Lisa!!!!!!!

Once we left, we headed to the shopping district where Meghan went shopaholic crazy for these stores. It was fun to watch her go on about purses, shoes, scarves, dresses, etc. Meghan backs Chanel because of something Co-co Chanel did about pants.

Luckily we found a “local” area of Paris where the real Parisians do their shopping. By the way, this is the location of my shoe discovery. It was as though they were perfectly hand crafted and placed there waiting for my arrival.

Meghan

We took our time getting into the heart of Paris this morning, enjoying our breakfast and the nice weather in our quarter of the city. The weather has been getting progressively better with our vacation. Today may have been the nicest day of the year. The sun was bright and hot keeping the tourists at bay in the shaded areas of the city. We, on the other hand, were big fans of laying out in full sun by a fountain outside the Louvre, facing an avenue leading up to the Arc de Triomphe. You know, just another spring day in Paris.

We then decided to take an air conditioning break, making our way through the Denon wing of the Louvre to see some of the most exceptional pieces of Italian and French art. Of course this included the famed Mona Lisa (aka La Joconde for you Frenchies out there!). Despite the fact that it may be one of the smallest pieces in the galleries of the Louvre that we visited, it is thought provoking and mesmerizing. To come down from the highs of seeing the visions of world renowned artists, we shared a milkshake in the café on looking the courtyard of the Louvre.

The rest of the afternoon was spent wandering down the, let’s call it prestigious, part of Paris. This included a leisurely stroll through the gardens of the Louvre as well as dipping our feet in the fountains of La Place de la Concorde. What came next could only be described as the culmination of ever so many of my fashion dreams. Hermes, Chanel, Dior, Gucci, Prada, Missoni, D&G, Ferragamo, Cartier…Wish I had a bankroll that could have allowed me to purchase even the smallest of items from one of these shops. Alas, as Ron said trying to keep me in check, I will need to wait until I reach a point in life/career where a simple purchase will not require a credit check by the sales staff.

Along the way, we snacked outside of La Madeleine and passed by a number of ministries and embassies that required high security by well clad officers. Our last stop of the day was in a district which seemed to be 98% populated by locals called Forum des Halles, which appeared to be a modest shopping area with numerous cafés. Ron and I are still dumbfounded by the number of cafés in this city. Don’t Parisiens ever eat in?

Tomorrow, we hit the open road to take in the French country side on our way to Switzerland  Au revoir mon amour, Paris.

To see all of our pictures, click here

This morning, we woke up from a solid 12 hrs of sleep only because we were going to miss breakfast. Quite frankly, it was much needed/deserved. After all, we are on vacation. I scoped out the weather by sitting out of our hotel room window and taking in the lovely Paris surroundings, we decided to head up to Montmartre and the Basilisque Sacre-Coeur. Located on a hill overlooking the city, Montmartre was not only a feat (in my eyes) to get to using a manual transmission VW, but finding a parking spot in such a cozy and primarily pedestrian-oriented town would be challenging. That is, unless you are us and find a parking spot in the center of all the action.

My photo finger was going crazy from the minute we got out of the car. The basilica is breathtaking, as is the view from the front staircase. We roamed the small streets and side streets taking in all the action and the aromatic air of all the cafés. In the central square of the town, artists set up their easels and showed off their skills for all and any to watch in amazement. This is where Ron pointed out the bar that he and his grand dad drank the night away on a previous trip…as good a place as any for us to take a seat for a café au lait, some crepes and people watching. We fell into a great conversation with an older couple from England in the area to visit their son (the photographer) who lived around the corner from the café. The conversation was very lively and included various topics including crazy Republicans in Texas and Arizona, the BP disaster, Canadian politics and even some science. It just so happened that this couple has a son who is a faculty member at Yale in Biochem/Med research in cancer drug development. So cool.

After saying our farewells, we continued to explore a bit more before deciding to move onto more outdoor venues. The weather was incredible and the idea of being indoors, even if those indoors were the Louvre, seemed stifling. So our next stop was L’arche de triomphe. I can honestly say that (thus far) it is the most impressive structure/monument/attraction in Paris. And I say this after having been to the Eiffel tower. The view was incredible and the displays describing the history and structure were “just very well done” (Ron’s words). Despite the signage prohibiting it, this is the locale from which I gave my Mom a call, just to say hi  Back to the base of the arche, we had a light snack of bread, cheese and beers. Stay classy, Paris!

Next stop, up the Eiffel tower. The line was fairly long, but well worth it; Again, breathtaking views. I still can’t believe that I can now say I have been up the Eiffel tower. Luckily enough for Ron, the very top level was closed due to high winds, and so his strength of courage to tackle the great heights was not challenged as much as it was planned for. Riding down, we both got our hunger pangs.

What to do when hunger strikes in Paris? How about grab a beer and some frites at a pub across the street from the Moulin Rouge. I can get used to this.

Ron
I championed the height that is the Eiffel Tower. Unfortunately the top was closed or I might have run up it. We will never know.
I was very excited to get back to the Monte Martre. My Grandfather had a special place in his heart for it and I can see why. We really explored this area and it was my favorite part of the day. We veered off a side street and came across a beautiful park. Greenery, people having lunch and a school group playing games in the court yard (with a priest). It was so peaceful and perfect, I mean literally perfect. I could have stayed there all day.

The Arc du Triumph was great! Everyone had to take the stairs to get to the top and I thought “right on, sticking it to the tourists!” We made it to the top, received a history lesson and ventured onto the ledge. Fantastic city view, as far as the eye can see in all directions.

The Eifel Tower I didn’t enjoy as much and not because of the heights!
There were so many people trying to sling product at you. In some parts you had as many street slingers as you did tourists. I don’t like the “in your face” approach and particular, I don’t want to buy an Eiffel Tower knick-knack.
It made me want to avoid parts. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind people trying to make a buck but the area was littered with knick-knack crap.

For dinner we headed back to the red light district and settled in at a restaurant across from the Moulin Rouge. The waiter knew we were tourists right off the hop as I ordered a burger and fries. The burger comes with an egg on top with no buns – love it!!! Meghan, not so much.

To see all of our pictures, click here

The issue with being at the center of all the action is that there is a monument, building and tourist destination at every glance. Since I have been here before I told Meghan that I was fine for what ever the day brought. Meghan, drunk on building knowledge and picture taking finger would say something like “lets go here, its only 1.6 km away” (according to GPS) and on route we stopped at 17 other sites. 4 hours later arriving at our original destination.

I am glad this occurred because we found so many nooks and crannies that we would not have otherwise seen. Like Jardin du Luxemburg (a park). It was amazing!!!!!! There, I experienced professional chess players with timers…… I was mesmerized.

Another break was we found artists littered across The Seine River. We found some amazing art and purchased 4 paintings. What? Were on vacation!!!

After over 7 hours of straight walking I was actually glad when it started to rain. Exhausted I suggested we get dinner and Meghan, still drunk with building knowledge realized she was a little famished as well.

We traveled to the Arc du Triomphe where we ate at the same restaurant that my Grandfather and I ate at. The food was still amazing. I devoured Pan Seared Scallop Risotto and Meghan, equally as hungry had Spinach and Fois Gras Tortelli (like ravioli).

We traveled back to the hotel and Meghan was asleep before I could catch up on the NBA scores (LA and Boston final – what up!!!!)

Meghan
As Ron alluded to, we spent more than 10 hours just roaming around Paris…and just stumbling onto a ton of sites we planned on seeing and some we didn’t…at least 8 of those hours were totally by foot with no metro, bus or taxi. Needless to say, we got back to the hotel last night just before 10pm and crashed for nearly 11 hours…the only reason we sprung up was that the breakfast was only until 9 am!

Let me tell you about the adventure that took place during those hours. First, I have to tell you how big of a fan I am of the French cheese culture. They treat brie here (at the hotel breakfast) like butter, tons of it! Guess what has been making it into my purse for our daily munchies

Next up, finding our way to the Louvre part of the city which led us to venture down Champs Elysee and around the marvel that is the Arche de Triomphe arrondisement, we found parking down St. Germaine. The crazy drive leading us to this parking spot left us needing a bit of French caffeine, so we bask in the beauty of St Germaine while sipping on café au lait at the Café de Flore before walking around the streets where I could not help but window shop. Along the way, we stumbled into the Colleges des Beaux Art. Have to admit, studying art in Paris sounds like it would be a pretty big deal. Next, we made our way along the Seine and into the Louvre courtyard which we both believe is much more magical when lit up in the night. After discovering the Louvre was closed on Tuesdays; we were not the only ones unaware of this fact, nor did this really affect our spirits. We moved along to view the rest of the outside of the Louvre and started to direct ourselves towards Notre Dame. On the way, we saw many monuments, la place Dauphine, le Palais de Justice (Court House), an old jail house as well as ‘les cryptes archeologique’ just in front of the Notre Dame.

We took in the Notre Dame surrounded by school children there for a visit. Another advantage to visiting Paris in tourist off-season; that and the fact that admission to many sites including the Notre Dame is free of charge.

I can’t even remember what we were destined for on our next stop. What I can tell you are the sites that we manage to see on this adventure. L’Hotel Dieu hospital, l’Academie de Medicine, l’Institut de Curie, many churches, bridges and cafes, Sorbonne, Jardin du Luxemburg and the Pantheon. It’s around this time that the skies broke open and rained like cats and dogs. Getting into the car to go to dinner, ‘It’s raining men’ was appropriately being played. This is also the first time we encountered Paris traffic. Not fun, as you can imagine…much better when you can own the road.

Once we finally found parking off of the Arche de Triomphe arrondissement, we dined on yet another fabulous meal, this time with true Parisienne courtesy. Next stop, bed where I slept a solid night’s sleep, ready for another full day!

To see all of our pictures from this day, click here

On Sunday we shot off to Waterloo to exchange sake and sushi with Joe Reid. All you can eat – more than enough said. We left Joe and ventured to Mississauga where I decided to get some colour. I wasn’t anticipating on bright red but that’s what I got.

We got on our flight, everything on time. The airport from what I am used to experiencing was dead. The flights were great. Stopped over in Iceland and didn’t see any whales or elves: very disappointing. Our luggage made it safely and we picked up our Volkswagen. (Note to Joe Manafo: I haven’t stalled the car once!!!!)

We arrived at our hotel, just out side the red light district and we slept… hard. We woke up at 9pm and decided to take the car to see all of the sights Paris had to offer.

For anyone thinking of traveling to Europe (Paris) you need to invest in hacking your GPS!!!!!!! Navigating has been effortless!!!

Meghan
It’s official, I’m completely and totally ruined for everyday Western life already…after a single (not even full) day in Paris. The city, the architecture, the food, the way of driving; It’s definitely something that needs to be experienced in non-tourist season as we are currently doing.

After waking up from our much needed nap in the very comfy hotel bed, we set off to Montmartre aka the Paris red light district. After finding primo parking on the street directly across the Moulin Rouge, we explored the city drenched in night life and lights.

We decided to dine on the patio at the Chat Noir Bistro complete with perfect street views, piano man and tourist conversations for entertainment. The food was … there are no words. Ron decided on Ravioli Royale avec Cepes and I had Boeuf Bourgignon inspired by my viewing of Julie/Julia on the day’s preceding our trip. Both dishes were phenomenal and we happily shared each others meals and basked in the after glow of the deliciousness for quite some time before making our way back towards the Moulin Rouge.

Next stop was the Eiffel Tower. First, we saw the searchlight beaming across the city, then the top half peering from above the gorgeous buildings. It looked amazing covered in white sparkling lights, like straight out of the Devil Wears Prada. Simply said, it was amazing. Safe to say I was in awe.

Next stop, walking along the Seine to the Pont d’Alexandre, where we got a second chance to see the Eiffel Tower all sparkling. The rest of the night was spent speeding through the streets of Paris, checking out the sights lit up for the night. There was the Louvre, the National Library, La Sorbonne, Notre Dame and countless other gorgeous monuments and buildings.

As I stated above, ruined for life.

To see all of our pictures, click here

My first thought is the notion of 20/80; 20% of the people doing 80% of the work. The work in this case is volunteering, watching out for, being apathetic towards and caring about people other than your self.

Now that we live in a “globalized” world we can see more and more people who need more and more. This has left our developed world in quite a predicament because we now see how well off we truly are.

Thinking about the atrocities, poverty and misfortune around the world is hard to do and I am finding, even with myself, you either have to approach global issues fully or forget about them all together.

I know that seems like rather an unconcerned thing to say but you see it all the time. You have people who are SO into the third world, exhausting themselves volunteering for every cause or catastrophe and then you have your neighbor that couldn’t locate Uganda on a map or even spell genocide.

I am not saying that being interested in helping the third world is a bad thing. I think what happens is that the people who do those things see great misery and misfortune that they become apathetic and skeptic towards local issues because the magnitude isn’t as dire. So because your situation isn’t the worst you don’t get assistance at all.

Because we live in this 20/80 world, the 20% of those that care about people become overwhelmed with the misery of others while the other 80% are concerned with the latest UFC match and whether or not they got a raise at work.

I am not here to argue over whether this 80% population needs to get their head out of their ass however I am sure you know my sentiments on that matter. I will say this though, for those of you who struggle with the woes of others and do not act because you’re overwhelmed; I do understand your attitude. You turn on the news and see poverty, death, war and hunger in a part of the world you didn’t know existed and instead of feeling concerned about or helpless to affect you turn it off. I get that because I find myself in that place constantly.

Another issue I am seeing more and more is this notion of “it’s not my job; someone gets paid to do that.” We have now made processes and hired specialists to deal with poverty and people in need in our own community. We just assume that everyone is fine and accounted for.
This just isn’t the case at all. If anything we are ghettoizing all of cities with pockets of poverty and calling them “that part of town” while the more privileged stay glued to their own neighborhood occasionally looking out the window to see all the lawns are mowed, everyone is good, great!

I will tell you this much, you don’t need a degree to be able to care about your neighbor, neighborhood or city. You just have to turn it on.

If I have a target audience for my blog it would be to those in the 80% who see the world and think there is injustice and do not act because they are overwhelmed. I would say to them to start somewhere, just something small. Volunteer once a week doing anything, it doesn’t even have to be for poor people. Just start with anything!

Calling the police was useless as they didn’t even come to my house which doesn’t provide much confidence in my local police department. The policeman on the phone wasn’t very helpful either and his lack of concern was clearly present. Not that I was wanting him to be all mushy however I would have felt better if I didn’t call.

Instead of being (or feeling) like the victim, questions like “why would you leave that in your car” lead me to believe that if you cant pinpoint the culprit and attach blame to them then naturally the blame falls to the victim as if I was “asking for it.”

Calling my insurance was a hassle as well. Firstly, I couldn’t get a hold of my adjuster. I called at 8:30am, 10:30, 11:00, 12:30pm and finally at 4pm I was called back. $250 for my car deductible (to get a $300 window replaced) followed up by a $1000 house deductible to replace $2500 of equipment which, once they had finished applying appreciation to my laptops, being heckled for receipts, inquired against and then having my premiums go up it has me at a lose.

All of this to say I have lost my innocence. Not that I was naive enough to think that the system in which we live in isn’t a messed up one but I have never been violated like this before and the impression I got from everyone was “too bad for you, this shit happens.” And really, they are correct with this outlook. Sure, people think it’s a bummer I got robbed. The south end in which I live retains its title of “sketchy” which before my robbery I felt very different about. The culprit whom is now on my laptop doesn’t give a rat’s ass and if anything because of the authorities lack of action thinks he got a pretty good reward for a few mints labour.

The only person left holding the emotional baggage is me. I have had a shit week. Currently my outlook on things is messed, I drive down the road and everyone is suspect. I am quick to make judgment and my faith in society dropped. And I am miserable for it so after this weekend I am going to drop it.

I am going to pretend like the event did not occur because I am not going to let this person who stole my stuff win. I won’t be afraid and live negatively. Sure, I will be a bit more cautious which I can’t see as being a bad thing but business will be back to normal as of Monday. However, today is Friday so who ever that little bastard is who stole my shit…… Your gonna get yours!

A song where the singer talks about dramatic events in her life and once experienced she asks “is that all there is?”

I’m bothered lately. I watched my grandfather, my close friend die over the course of 2 months. He was in pain, uncomfortable and miserable. Together we watched his old, weak body give out and, in my honest opinion, before he was ready to be done with it.

If I can be totally honest it hasn’t consumed me all that much. Numbness, denial and just blocking it out has been my ritual. Thinking about it brings more questions, concerns and doubts that bother me to my core.

I haven’t written, thought, discussed, debated or dialoged lately. I’ve just been going through the motions of life with the backdrop of “is this all there is?”

My mind races with thoughts and I let them leave me just as quickly as they come. I’m not about to say something drastic that “I’m depressed” or any of that nonsense. I think what’s happening to me is that I’ve been apart of something very drastic, very serious and very close to home and I haven’t the foggiest idea how to deal with it. I’ve never experienced anything like it and I feel by being forced through it has provided me with some sort of secret knowledge that one can only acquire through an experience I just endured.

I’ve been observing people lately. Older people primarily and I find myself listening. I did this a lot with my Granddad as he had lived an entire life and I had much to learn.
There is a common theme to older people that haunts me as I listen; its regret. As a youth interacting with older people you hear it so much and yet you can’t identify with it. I’m too young to have real regret I suppose. There aren’t too many things I do that time and ambition can’t resolve. But that’s the thing about older people, time isn’t on there side and regret is its byproduct.

With my Granddads departure it has presented me with some daunting realities; an obvious one that never really resonated until now. It’s that I am mortal. I will become old someday, have limitations, lack time, have regret and I will die.

This word regret is consuming me. Do I regret anything? Are there things I am doing now that when I look back 50 years will say “I should have done that differently” and if so, why am I not picking up on and changing those events now?

At some point you are forced to deal with the issue of death. Either through a near experience personally or a near experience where you lose someone you have vested time with.
The issue with death is there is no going back from the knowledge you acquire. You’re forced to ask yourself some serious questions and I am struggling with those right now.

Further more, I feel it alone. It’s not that others around me haven’t experienced death but its these questions I ask are not questions that can be answered. I have always thought a certain way and now…. I don’t. These doubts, these regrets are swirling in my head, making me re-think every step, every friendship, every Endeavour. What do they all mean, does it even matter?

My Granddad is gone and it appears everything his life was lives within mine and others memories. He spent his entire life going on about his business, having worries, regrets, fears, accomplishments and for what? He’s gone now so does he rest easy now that he’s crossed the finish line and people will recall him as a good man? Is that all there is? Your own on goings and then when your gone, peoples perception.

I’m very frustrated.

Recently, I stopped. I am tired of listening to news about things across the planet and that for the most part have nothing to do with me and this news is usually depressing. Another reason is what news today is covering. For the need to continually produce relevant, exciting news we have stooped to new levels of low that I don’t want to partake in.

A recent example is Tiger Woods.
Sure, he drove into a fire hydrant at an odd time in the morning and may or may not have been drinking. I DON’T CARE. It doesn’t deserve this much coverage. There is WAY more important things to cover.

News has become a joke. News agencies don’t care about real, thought out, well informed thoughtful news. They don’t have the resources, time or readership. So what we get is weak snippets of shitty news.

I am still an information whore though so I have turned to things like on line books where an author covers one specific topic and delves into it.

Another thing that has consumed a lot of my time is “This American Life.”

I love it. It has seriously changed my news listening life.
There is a theme to each episode and a variety of stories on that theme. Its mostly true stories of everyday people, though not always. Each show is an hour long and I can’t get enough. I have listened to about 30 in the last few weeks and each one is getting better and better.

They cover politics and health care to marketing strategy and peoples obsessions with animals. It is so random. I love it.

It appears that houses know you are a new home owner and are like “let’s break everywhere.”

I bought an older house so I knew I would have issues and for the most part, I can’t complain. Everything is working well.

It’s the working well that is getting me. The actual cost of operating a home is enormous and monthly.

People used to say to me “you pay how much in rent? You could be a home owner for the same price.” Damn you I say to those people, damn you.

Sure, the initial house loan may or may not be equivalent to that of a rent payment. What those home owners don’t tell you is that new bills start getting delivered address to you: Home Insurance, house taxes, hydro, water and gas.

Before if a furnace broke, toilet leaked, pipes burst or power lost I just picked up a phone and made a call to the land lord. When you’re a home owner, you become that person.

Sure, I get it, eventually and in the long run I will smile because my house will “appreciate” and I will retain the money I have put into it: eventually. The unfortunate thing is that right now I don’t live in eventually. I am living today. And today my ass is broke.

Last night however I was sitting in my house. Cleaned the kitchen and the living room and I just sat. No one was there and it was quiet. It was peaceful. I was home.

Feb 27th 2009.
I went to transfer my cellular Bell account over to my Granddad and was informed that there was $4 owing on my account so he wouldn’t be eligible for a $200 phone upgrade nor could we transfer the account until the amount was paid in full. I went home and paid on line.

March 4th.
The payment went through and my Granddad is eligible for the upgrade. We go back to bell, purchase a phone and have the sales person call Bell Customer Service so he can give them his personal information, provide credit card information and transfer the account from my name to his.

Oct 2nd.
My Grandfather died.

Mid October.

I call Bell to inform them that my Grandfather has died. “Sure,” the Bell customer service rep says, “I need a death certificate for Ron Smith and we can close the account.”
I inform her that I am Ron Smith and the person in question is Geoff Shepherd. Who is Geoff Shepherd she asks?

It appears that Bell took my Grandfathers info (changed address, home phone and provided a credit card) but apparently this wasn’t actually a “transfer.” Apparently I needed to call and tell Bell to officially change the account over even though I was sitting there in the store with my Granddad while this passing of information took place.

Me, being pissed off and up for a stand off, contacted the manager of Customer Service and had it out with him. He told me there is nothing he can do for me because according to his notes there was no note of a transfer made, even though the evidence is strongly in my favor.

He then said “its $400 to close the account out or you are better off getting someone else to take the account over” to which I replied “I tried to transfer already with my Granddad but apparently you have a bunch of retards working for you, further more do you think I would EVER put anyone through the agony of using bell as their cell phone provided?”

Sure, yelling at him does nothing for the situation but for 30 seconds I felt damn vindicated.

In the end I will pay the $400 because my credit is now going to be effected if I don’t pay. As furious as I am about the entire ordeal I feel I will win this battle.
Firstly, they lost me as a customer. I am closing the phone and in doing so will end a 6 year relationship of 384-5400. I used to say “Ron Smith is 384-5400.” Not anymore.

Secondly, I work in the technology field and what bell fails to realize is that we are a word of mouth society. People respect my technology input and you can be damn sure that Bell is now the last company I would suggest for anything wireless, home phone, internet or cable.

Third: A part of my job is to manage cell phone accounts for our many employees. Accounts renew all the time and Bell is now on my “transfer” list.

So, thanks for the memories Bell, you should have taken all that money you used on a new look and invested it in handling your customers better.

Yesterday I lost not only a Grandfather but one of my closest, most cherished friends.

Since his passing, I have been surrounded by friends who have been of great support in this time of healing. In recounting our times together, many have expressed how fortunate I was to have had a relationship with Granddad that neared more of a brotherhood. A friendship that some never encounter in a lifetime. I have always been tremendously grateful for my friendship with Granddad. As I continue to tell the many tales about my times with him to my community, the same sentiments are continually repeated: amazement and envy. With every passing day, I understand even more how truly blessed I have been to have him so closely woven into my life’s story and recognize the value of his imprint on my journey.

Growing up in England, Granddad didn’t have much impact in my life. He was a “typical” Granddad. Holidays, presents and pictures were all I knew as he lived on the other side of the country. At the age of 7, my family decided to immigrate to Canada. As before, my Granddad and Nanny would ‘cross the pond’ to visit and stay with us from time to time. It was in my first year of high school that everything started to change.

The catalyst was my Nanny’s unexpected passing. As a typical 14 year old, I never gave it too much thought at the time at how this event must have devastated my Granddad. Not only did he lose a loving partner of 48 years, but his overall life story that he had planned was ripped away from under him. My Grandparents were World-class travelers. When they weren’t visiting with us in Canada, they were traveling Europe; their lives a continuous vacation. They had settled into a great community of friends in the south of France, where they spent the later of their days.

After Nanny’s passing, this lifestyle changed for Granddad. His time spent in Canada become longer and his worldly travels fewer. Finally, he moved into our home where he became a sort of roommate to me, his room being directly across from mine. Looking back that should have been so odd for me, but that was just how things came together and I never questioned it.

Granddad spent his days listening to classical music, walking our dog gypsy, swimming, cooking and reading the paper. His evenings were spent with a scotch in one hand and the channel changer in the other. Everyday when I got home from school, there he was, studying some language, quizzing me on current affairs and preparing some type of soup in the kitchen. Granddad always made dinner. No pizza or processed foods. Fresh veggies, sprouts, meat and some type of herb, spice…. or branches.

I didn’t realize it at the time, but my Granddad was molding me. I find that through watching him over the years I have come to respect and enjoy the real fine things in life: family, food, friends, conversation, music, reflection and, of course, a fine glass of scotch.

Granddad was with me to experience a great many of my firsts in life; the first time I drank too much (can still hear him as he laughed from his chair), my first cigar, gifted by him, which didn’t agree with my stomach (again, he laughed from his chair). My entire teen years have my Grandfather throughout them, from sharing wisdom, teaching and lending an ear. He was a great listener.

During the Second World War, he served the English Royal Air Force proudly. His love and fascination with planes born from these years never left him. When he started taking flying lessons in Sarnia, I remember him taking me up in the plane and flying over Sarnia passing over mine and my aunt’s house. He would let them know he was coming before hand and they would be out in the garden waving away!!

My relationship with my Grandfather changed drastically when I turned 21. No longer was I the teenaged roommate. I was a young man, working full-time and out on my own. But we always found a way to schedule times together almost every week. Granddad would come for dinner and we would cook our meals, watch shows together and he would spend the night. During these times our talks matured. He really opened up about his life. Failures, triumphs, fears, regrets, love and the day to day grind. Without realizing it, he became my confidant.

Geoff was getting older now entering his 80s, so traveling to Europe on his own became more demanding. He required a companion on his travels to do the heavy lifting, the hours of driving, the drinking and dining. I was the fortunate one who became this travel buddy. Every September, for 3 consecutive years, we set sail for Europe. The agenda was pretty broad: go to Switzerland, Italy and France. The rest we made up on the go, speeding down the auto route sporting a Mercedes Benz, sipping on the finest wines and eating the freshest of foods. This was Granddad’s style, Granddad’s way of life.

Geoff had acquired many a friend over the 40 years of travel to Europe. We stayed at Hotels which were once bed and breakfast havens that had flourished over the years. Geoff was on a first name basis with the proprietors at all these hotels, which were a family grown business he’d seen develop from the ground up. They were his community across the continent, some of his closest friends.

I was introduced to his “other family” in a small spot on the southern coast of France called Val-Rose. It is here that he and so many other vacationers from England settled in their trailers. Geoff spent over 10 years of his retired life there with his wife and, after she passed, another 10 years visiting. He made lifelong bonds with new and old friends here. We were always welcomed when we arrived. Lots of conversation, food and of course good drink. The residents are so amazing and I am so thankful he introduced them to me. These people are so full of love and contentment. Val-Rose embodies my Granddad’s way of life. It is his truest home. It is a place I hope to visit many more times throughout my life.

Geoff and I were to set sail again this year. Unfortunately, his body could no longer keep up with the energy of his mind and soul. Witnessing the failing physical form of a man so vibrant and full of life was one of the hardest times in my life. Knowing it was even harder on him made it all the more painful to experience.

On the eve of what should have been our departure for our fourth tour to Europe, I was by my Granddad’s side at the Sarnia hospital. After pouring us each a healthy glass of my finest scotch, we looked each other in the eye and knew what the other was thinking. We cried together. We cried, knowing “you’re going to get better” didn’t need to be said, this was no time for superficial pleasantries. Our bond, the love and respect we have for each other was too genuine for such palliative falsehoods. Through tears, I expressed my greatest sorrows in losing him, in his not being able to meet my future children. He apologized for not being able to meet my future wife and attend my wedding. He wished I were 20 years older or, better yet, that he was 20 years younger.

In his last weeks, Geoff was constantly surrounded by his loving family. He was peaceful and he was ready for his next journey. Granddad and I talked about death from time to time. Having seen the world as he had, having experienced as much as he could, he wasn’t afraid of what was to come. Death, for him, was the next chapter, the next adventure.

Granddad, wherever you are, I wish you all the best in this new adventure.
I will forever recount stories from your journey and will never forget our times together.
Know that I will carry you in my heart, always.
Your Grandson, your friend.

I’ve been reflecting about where I go/going/gone wrong and have I at least learned anything from these reflections.

If I am being honest with myself I would say I am most certainly prideful, followed up with its byproduct – conceitedness. “I’m not conceited” I thought to myself the other day and then in my readings a day later I came across this: “If you think you are not conceited, it means you are very conceited indeed.”

I think pride to be the greatest sin out there because of what it causes people to become. Where they focus their time and finances, your views and how you treat others are all drastically bent and distorted by pride.

I don’t think the issue is pride by itself. It’s when you take your pride and attach it to other vises in your life.

Greed is a vise in my life. My greed enjoys more money and with this money I enjoy my house, home reno’s, vacations, better drink and food, entertainment with friends and obviously fashionable apparel. But only to a certain point. If I inject my un-checked pride into the mix of my greed it mutates it into something much worse.

This feeling comes upon me and I start to yearn for a better house not because I need a place to lay my head but because someone else lays theirs better than mine. My vacations need to be more exotic, expensive and further because someone may have one upped me. My food and drink and who I enjoy those things with need to be of a certain class…. Pride gets me to a point where what I have isn’t enough and the only thing that curbs my pride is climbing the ladder higher than others.

If you read this and think “that’s sad Ron, I’m not like that” I would think that’s a good indication that pride has you all rapped up my friend. The problem with pride is that it’s in competition with everyone else as pride is competitive by nature. I know I am prideful because I get annoyed when I see it in others. It is because I wanted to be the big shot at the party that I am so annoyed at someone else being the big shot.

Two of a trade never agree.

After a very unstable stay at the hospital he has been sent home with the hope of recovery of getting comfortable to be at final rest.
This pains me very much. My Grandfather is one of my best friends. I don’t just see him as a relative. He is someone whom has spoken a great deal into my life.
Weekly drinks at Paddies with our reserved seats and yearly vacations to Europe; our conversations have made me rather worldly.

That was then and statistically speaking my better days with him have come to a close. When he was looking his worst we had “the talk.” If you have ever dealt with someone who is on their death bed you know what I mean. It was very intimate. He and I communicated honestly and freely – we said our good byes. We cried deeply about him not being at my wedding, meeting my wife and holding my children. He said he wished that I was 20 years older or better yet, that he was 20 years younger.

It’s tough watching a man who has lived a full life still capable of living an even fuller one. It pains me more when you watch so many people just wasting away their youth.

My Grandfather requires 24 hour attention and I will do my part with the rest of my family to be there, assist and care for. However as I do this, the thoughts of it not being fair or “if only we had more time” wont be present. Granddad and I have had an amazing run together. What I have experienced with him trumps many people’s experiences with their own relatives. He and I have said our good byes.

When he and I catch each others eye from across the room we know what both of us are thinking. He has told me for years that this “way” of life is not for him. He dreads it and now he is dealing minute by minute with it. It’s hard for me to watch him because in his mind I know he is locked down, trapped and tormented.

Even with a “full” recovery things won’t return to way he wanted to live. My Granddad is very active. Daily he works out, walks the dog, swims and plans vacations over seas. He keeps sharp by studying language (he has learned 3 in the last 10 years), reading countless books and learning the ways of the internet and email to keep in touch with people from around the globe.

I miss that person. From what is occurring now I feel so disconnected. I don’t like seeing it just as much as he doesn’t like being it. Even though I am putting on a strong face I don’t like my time with it all. This isn’t the man or the time I want to remember. I remember someone much different. Is that horrible? I am trying to see the positives of it all however if I am being honest with myself I must admit that I would wish him a quick, peaceful passing over a drawn out, flat lining, uncomfortable last few months.
Part of it is selfish and part of it is me knowing his real wishes. In the mean time I will pray, fast, reflect and sit by my Grandfathers side.

Kayne West now interupts Obama!!!!!

The other people are those who crave a relationship. They yearn and seek out to such an extreme that they tend to make an unwise choice that most likely will lead to sadness, dissatisfaction and ultimately, a broken heart. I would say that the majority of the adult single population fit into this way of thinking. Desiring a loving, nurturing and safe relationship, they do it: they settle.

Settling is entering into a relationship with a less than desirable mate for the sake of escaping the single life. Fed up with breakups and longing for a stable mate, I would imagine when one “settles” that the “nice” feeling of being with that new person only exists due to the relief of escaping the single life. Being caught up in the swirl of desperately trying to find “the one” and the constant ticking of that annoying inner clock reminding people that they are getting older by the moment, can cause this to happen I am sure.

So why settle? Well, I think it has SO much to do with how we are all “programmed” to view our life in accordance with relationships. We are raised to believe that the ideal life is one in which we fall in love, marry, have children, go on vacation, grow a family, retire and grow old. This ideology is instilled in us from day one.

As we enter the dating game we are weaving our way through relationships, trying to decipher what type of person best fits our needs to sustain this healthy and loving relationship as described above. If a person does not find this truly compatible mate, they will most likely opt to………… settle.

Settling may bring temporary happiness, however the key word is temporary. When a person is in a relationship that is not the ideal one for them, they are choosing to close off the option of finding true love. This is not fair to either person in the relationship. I like to believe that we all desire love, having someone to care for us above all else, the feeling of being safe and secure in the arms of another. I don’t think setting produces those results.

Remaining single and waiting to meet someone that will provide you with a truly loving relationship is wise. Be pleased that you are abiding to your standards. Falsely believing that continuing to remain single is such a dreadful choice, and settling is the option you choose, you will be losing the prospect of truly enjoying your life bonded with someone you undoubtedly love.

What if finding true love isn’t what you desire and actually isn’t the goal.
Can people settle and actually mean to do so? Are some people’s expectations set to high and by trying to reach their target cause their issue of singleness? Are people who settle more realistic? Can one argue that settling is better than being alone?

Facebook, Twitter Revolutionizing How Parents Stalk Their College-Aged Kids

In life you are told over and over “you only have one life to live, you might as well do what makes you happy” and a lot of people are attempting just that. It appears though that making oneself happy and being concerned only about oneself are seen as the same.

It would make sense then why there is so much focus on “you.” The trouble and pitfall it appears is that we actually think we can fill this void of “happiness” as if there were a meter to indicate “total happiness.” I haven’t yet met a person who said to me “I’m full on happy, I can’t possibly have another slice.”

The pursuit of happiness is an endless race; never ending and always evolving. There is no satisfaction. People can be happier for a period of time but the need for happiness is always lurking close by. As soon as we accomplish something that makes us happy (food, sex, tv, sports, sleeping) we soon feel lacking and want the exact thing soon there after.

Knowing then that we will never fill this void of happiness says to me how important it should be when attempting to figure out what it is that actually makes us happy. Furthermore how dangerous it can be if we pick things that are destructive to us.

If we can take a minute and admit “I am a selfish person” and really understand that, it will probably help you see what you spend your time doing for the pursuit of happiness.

The more I journey on with life the more I am realizing and becoming disgusted with the time I spend on making myself happy. It’s not that self happiness isn’t important and shouldn’t be pursued, it’s just I see how sad some of the things are that I think make me happy. If we believe that we only have one life to live, it’s sad to know I spend so much time doing rather dull and selfish things with the sparing time I have.

On a brighter note I am finding that the more time I spend with other people; investing, partaking and being of service to, I receive the same sense of happiness that fills my otherwise selfish motives.

I guess what I am trying to say here is that finding, chasing and becoming happy isn’t bad. Not at all. How we try to attempt it is the problem. I think if we took sometime out of our busy, self orientated lives and actually invested in someone else asking the question “what would make them happy” I think we would quickly come to the conclusion that serving others makes you happy as well, if not more happy; with the added bonus that you took one step away from being a narcissistic prick.

What’s so dangerous about this breeded culture of selfish happiness is that there are roles in a persons life where being selfish cannot exist. Roles like husband, wife, mother, father, etc. Obviously you can see the dilemma. If a person spends their entire life making only them self happy and then become a Dad, can you really get mad or be surprised at that person when they apply their selfish ways to their newly appointed selfless position? Its not that they don’t have the capacity to be selfless and serve in that capacity, it’s that all they know is selfishness and that is a hard habit to break.

We discussed real reasons why people get married. Now, this might sound shallow but people do regularly marry for money, comfort, sustainability, simplicity. I’m not just talking about gold diggers here either. Real people, who work real jobs, decide to marry a person not because their partner stimulates them but because they can achieve the “American dream” of success: A house, a car, a vacation, kids and retirement.

For my Granddads generation, achieving the dream was a priority after the war. Women weren’t really seen as “equals” and didn’t really have the ability to achieve the dream without men’s financial assistance. Women, it appears were dragged into this situation. I would also say then that men were also forced into this situation because it was the “right” thing to do.

Fast forward to today. We are in a time where the dream can be achieved being single and more and more people are choosing to do so. It’s not a societal norm to get married and with most people getting divorced today, it’s not overly appealing either.

So, if people don’t need a partner to achieve the dream why on earth would you marry in pursuit of it? I say no.

My Granddad and I discussed further and he stated that you can be happily married, have assets, raise kids, retire together, fully know your partner but never really “know” your partner and that’s ok. Most people do that.

Being young and naïve I begged to differ. I believe that people should only marry for companionship/love/intimacy. I would take it a step further and say that it’s our possessions that are getting in the way of our real happiness.

Life is hard for a single person. All the bills come addressed to you, if the car breaks you have to deal with it, on a Friday night you have to get creative and holidays are always awkward. Saying all that, I still cannot accept that people should get married just so they aren’t alone or can be seen as “being well off” according to the Jones of the dream.

However, I have come to see that all people aren’t looking for a communicative partner. They just want someone to understand them, let them be who they are and together achieve the greater goal known as “the dream.”

Maybe I am being too idealistic. Maybe I will be alone. Maybe I am expecting too much. Maybe.

The thought of downloading information from a teacher spouting off over the course of an hour or so seems to me now absurd, lacking and a waste of time.

Firstly, with the way technology is I can download books upon books of information onto an ipod that 100 teachers talking for weeks couldn’t contend with.

Secondly, there is so much online content covering any topic that I can learn from the best. People are publishing in video at alarming rates. What better way to learn than to have a video that you can stop, reply and watch at anytime with the convenience you need.

The profession of teaching where it currently stands is dated and is in need of a MAJOR upgrade.
Education isn’t about memorization in this world. It’s about organizing, prioritizing and searching for the right information.

I work in the information technology field. Daily I run into problems that didn’t exist when I went to school. Where do I turn to? The on-line blogging community. People need to start embracing the internet as the best source of information.

Where I would like to see Teaching go:

I want to see teachers as people who inspire people of any age to think differently and encourage creativity.
I am not saying that teaching don’t do this as I met quite a few teachers who spoke greatly into my life.

In the Colleges and Universities there needs to be WAY more emphases on working hands on in the field. Becoming a Lawyer? Schools should be teaming up with active lawyers, letting them assist them in cases and really learning the field.

Schools need to start specializing, even at the high school level. I don’t need to sit in high school until 19 memorizing the periodic table and doing some lame math (over and over again).
Math needs to be practical. Let’s take this math question and apply it to a real life situation. Lets focus more in technology.

I went to my old high school a little while ago thinking I would see rooms more and more converted over to computer rooms. NO. They were closing them down. There were actually less there. I couldn’t believe it.

People in America are finally quitting smoking. But what about the rest of the world?

And here is why the Lotto is really bad….

14 Basic skills every man should know.

Is manual labour making a come back? This article says yes.

A diagram why cheap airlines are….. cheap.

How Power ruin powerful men.

Best Advice rich people ever received.

and ……..

I just sent this to the Oberver for: Letters to the Editor.

Is it just me or are bouncers taking queues from the movie “Road House” with their teacher being Patrick Swayze?

The industry term bouncer presents an image of someone who will physically break up fights and forcibly eject undesirable patrons. Bouncers are often portrayed in movies as tough, thug-like scrappers who love to fight and it appears Sarnia has employed and embodied that persona.

There’s a common misconception that bouncers have authority to pick someone up and physically remove him or her from the premises for violating a club rule. It is believed that bouncers can use pain compliance holds, full-nelsons, choke holds, wrist locks, and arm bars to manhandle their patrons. This is generally not true. Simply stated bouncers cannot legally use force against unless they are taking someone into custody for a crime or in self-defense. When force is used it must be reasonable. That means no tackling, no punching, no kicking, no choking, no head butts, no piling on top, no hog-ties, and no pain compliance holds.

The authority of a bouncer, in most cases, is the same as any ordinary citizen. Bouncers have no special authority to physically eject a customer who merely becomes intoxicated or verbally obnoxious. As an employee of the nightclub, bouncers can only demand that the undesirable customer leave. If the customer refuses to leave your only legal recourse is to call the police.

“Back in the Day” when I bounced we were trained by a black belted marshal-artist who stressed the importance of self control, restraint and diffusion of aggressive situations.  Now I feel as though Friday and Saturday nights have become UFC episodes with the bar transforming into the octagon.

I stopped bouncing a few years back as I thought it was getting out of hand.  Bouncers began encouraging and gestured collusion.  Planned attacks were sometimes carried out to remove “ex-boyfriends” and other personal vendettas.  Very sad.

I understand there are drunks that get out of hand and require “removing.”  A bouncer does encounter undesirable situations however when did decency, restraint and professionalism get discarded?  Who are bouncing the bouncers?

Facebook is an entertaining place to show “good nights out” and more and more you are seeing pictures of 4 on 1 bouncer brutality; even pictures of 100 pound women being placed in the “chicken wing” by monstrous men.

There are a lot of good, honest bouncers out there performing a good deed.  It’s a shame that they appear to be a dieing breed.

I write this out of concern.  Brutality doesn’t diffuse anything; it only acts as a catalyst for more brutality.  If not a bouncer injuring/killing a patron; then a patron in retaliation injuring/killing a bouncer.

Take your pick.   

The question of asking if being gay or not is challenged as the wrong question to ask in the first place.

The worlds weirdest Hang over cures

Dads aches are up for sale on e-bay

A message to all you vegans out there.

A cure for HIV. No joke – and it came from Canada!!!!!!

Awesome new documentary: Food Inc
Talks in great length about corporations and food. A must see!!!

If so, there is this awesome blog (www.mint.com) that gives you the basics and a crash course on how to deal with your credit card company and to have your rates slashed/erased or re-negotiated.

The more and more I talk to people about their debt and financial skeletons the more I see people never having the conversation. They would rather forget they are in debt and stick their head in the sand!! Don’t do that people!!!!!!!!!

Address your debt, talk to someone and get on a game plan. The below link is a great starting place.

Follow this by clicking here:

Cheers
Ron

1: Welfare helps you keep your hand out.

If I were to give you $600 a month with no strings attached (ok, make a resume and “hand” it out). And then I said to you “if you go back to school to further yourself not only will I not give you money to attend I will also take your $600 away. Also, if you acquire a job (even part time) your $600 is now gone.”

What would you do?

Quick Math: $600 / 60 hours a month (part time) = $10 /hr.
Quick Math: 1 year of college (avg) $2500.

2: The “unmotivated and live on little to nothing” population:

There are a lot of people out there that don’t mind hand outs and since we as a society are always made to feel guilty about having anything we are more than happy to “give to the needy.”
If you are willing to get by on old furniture, lack of nutritious food, Inn of the Good Shepherd hand outs, bus passes, tube television and basic cable then welfare is the prefect job for you.

3: Immigrants are high rollers:

Please keep in mind I am not generalizing here. I am an immigrant myself.
Go to google and type “percentage of immigrants on welfare.” The results are staggering.

The welfare system is like a gold mind for someone who is from a third world country.
It’s tragic that living conditions are dire in their part of the world however the dream of moving to North America and living on the system is very appealing when you sit around hundreds of thousands of people that cant even afford to take a decent shower, crap, sanitize.

These are just few of many thoughts on why I don’t like the welfare system.
Do I agree that there should be something put in place to safe guard being homeless and having a roof over your head; of course I do. I just don’t think the answer is throwing $600 a month at a person down on their luck is the answer.

I would love to have a debate about how to approach it. I am not saying that all people on welfare are lazy. What I am saying is that once you receive welfare there isn’t much incentive to get off it and once you get used to receiving a rationed amount, living off the system becomes more appeasable and affordable.

What frustrates me about issues regarding the system are people who have a nice cushy job utter things like “why cant they just get a job?” Oh I wish it were just that easy.
I think a huge assistance to helping the poor is for people that aren’t to develop compassion. Far too often you find people with money telling those without money they are useless.

This isn’t helping anyone. Middle class people need to be educated more on the matter.

Thinking about getting a tattoo? Check this out so you can gauge what you are getting into.

“Weird Al” Yankovic song entitled “All about the Pentiums.” Love this song for many reasons.

1) Loved Weird Al as a kid.
2) Loved Puff Daddys original song when I was a teen
3) Love computers as an adult.

favorite line “I’m down with Bill Gates I call him money for short, I call him at home and I make him do my phone support.”

I’ve been using google since search was search on the internet.

As of today…… I think that might be changing……. maybe

Bing is Microsoft’s version of Google and I must say; “I don’t hate it”

Do a search in bing on a baseball, basketball, hockey player and then do the same search in google. I think you will like what you see.

Now, do I think for one second that this is the “google killer.” Oh please no.
Google is still number one, its just nice to know that I have search options.

Why fantasize over things you cannot obtain? Dave and I discus it in this video.

If any of you know me you know of my pride for Sarnia which it seems at times a joke since I am over zealous about my liking of this city.

This weekend I really felt at home.

Maybe it has to do with the fact that I just became a home owner but I am really starting to see Sarnia as a community and not a place that I work, sleep, eat and socialize.

The more I think about Sarnia the more I love thinking about planting more and more roots here.
I think for people to be content in life they have to start looking at the places they reside as their home; seeing neighboring houses, parks, people, shops and social events as their community.

I don’t think many people do this anymore. People travel, pick up and go and seem to be a tourist more than a resident always looking for the next adventure. I suppose that sort of life style is fine but you have to get to a point where you leave that life behind and embrace your communal surroundings.

The way I feel right now I think I want to be in Sarnia for life. All of the moves I have made in regards to personal and professional have been focused on Sarnia and my placement here.

Sarnia can and is a frustrating city at times. I really believe it will take committed people with time to make the small things the great things in this city. Being apart of Artwalk this weekend allowed me to see there are many small and great pockets of interest in this city. You just have to stick around long enough to see it.

Already knowing before hand that this lady is a mean person I decided to defuse the situation.
(Although in my head I was going up and down her with ignorant comments)

I replied “do you know the neighbors situation?” She said “no but there is no excuse for that.”
I said “well, I met my neighbor. She’s a very nice single mother of 2 on disability.” Why would I call the city and be a bad neighbor when I could offer my services and help clean. In fact, if you’re so concerned with the mess, I welcome you to help.”

The lady was annoyed. My co-worker laughed with glee.

This ladies type of approach gets me so perplexed. Yes, the ladies backyard mess is “un-desirable” but so what? Are my eyes burning with the site of it? Heaven forbid it lowers the real estate value of my own property!!!

In the ladies drive way is a basketball net with an old broken fridge standing directly below it. I learned her eldest son is a good basketball player. How can he play on that net? I think I’m going to move it tomorrow.

From their song “Black”

“I know someday you’ll have a beautiful life,
I know you’ll be a sun in somebody else’s sky, but why
Why, why can’t it be, can’t it be mine”

The toilet issue. Toilet seats up, Toilet seat down, wash your hands after, don’t wash your hands after.

Also, don’t let Nathan Colquhoun go to the bathroom at your house.

View Ron and Daves video here:

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Brilliant. I suppose this guy taught Chuck Norris the round house.

Its odd how this thing is panning out; If your neighbor loses their job it’s a real shame however if you lose your job; it’s a recession. I am coming to find that being in a recession people are more caught up with dodging bullets than embracing their neighbors. I suppose in a capitalist environment there is little room to carry the burdens others as we are a paycheck away from disaster as well.

The idea of the “strongest will survive” is dead in times like this. The guy that pushes the mop that can easily be dropped is on the same level as the prominent accountant from that once prestigious firm.

The recession is a drag for those that banked their whole retirement based on their 401ks and RSPs and I can only think “how did we not see this coming?” Like seriously. Its upsetting to see the 50 something’s all scrambling, dodging bullets and dreading the thoughts of “re-training.” How do you retrain a 55 year old whose only experience is their entire life? How do you learn that in school?

The sun isn’t any brighter for people graduating either. On the drive to work today I got listening to a discussion on the radio about college grads not having work when they graduated. A lot of them were crying poverty and others were embracing it. The pressures of “getting into their career” were removed from them and they were free to do as they please – even follow their dreams and passions!?!

In a weird and maybe twisted way…. Can I say I am happy to see a recession? Please note I am not trying to rub it into those who have lost their jobs but think positively for a second. If by losing or at least having fewer hours, do you not have more time for other things that really matter – Friends, family, hobbies, volunteering or maybe even your neighbor? Do you have more time on your hands? If you can spare sometime from financial worry do you not find yourself feeling a little freer?

I want to see everyone “doing well” however I am more concerned with people connecting with each other and really partaking in community with one another. I would love to see everyone work less, have less and be in less debt. If the recession has provided people with thoughts about not going crazy into debt or forced people to live more simply then I applaud the recession in some odd and crazy way.