One year later....

Well, it's been one year since I started this blog and I've been lucky enough to have a few of my peeps interested enough to read it, and for that, I thank you!
The original reason I started this was to empty my head every now and then of all of the craziness that goes on inside it...whether it be my poems, or short stories or just my random ramblings. I haven't added much of late, but hopefully that will change with the aid of some new features that will allow me to add more in less time.
Don't get me wrong...the short stories will still appear, it's just that free time is somewhat scarce and to find a block of time to write a longer piece is difficult. Plus the fact that I go over them again, and again to make sure they say exactly what is in my head and I don't post them until I'm happy with the finished product...well, let me tell ya kids...it can take a while!! I do have one story that has been it the works for a long time - still not happy with the flow of it, so that baby is on hold - for now. You will get from this photo an idea of how my head works...I know, it's terrifying isn't it!! This mass of paper is what flies out at me, like one of those cans o'fake snakes every time I open my file drawer. This is about 20+ poems that are in the works...sometimes I write a poem in one fast and furious session and other times, the smallest thing will inspire a line or two in me and I just jot those down. Often these ideas come to me while I'm driving to work aka my 'alone' time. I have to write them down as soon as they enter my head or they will be forever lost in the great abyss known as my brain. I often do this while I'm driving, which by the way I don't recommend, but that is the reason that they are written on the likes of a napkin and in my work note pad.
My head always has about a gazillion ideas whizzing through, so I have papers everywhere with ideas scribbled down...yup, I do have a journal to write this stuff down in an orderly fashion but it is located 2 drawers down in my file...so obviously, super inconvenient to get to!!! What am I like?! They will make it to the 'good copy book' at some point, but in the meantime my ideas are floating around all over the place in a fashion that's similar to the sensation you get when you rub your eyes...ya know what I'm saying?? All them floaty things everywhere that make you question...did I do LSD?? Tres weird!
So, coming to a theatre near you soon-ish are new features like, 'Flavah of the Month' - a journey into the music that I'm diggin. 'Boeuf of the Week' - a place to vent about the stupidities of man-kind, 'Things That Make My Heart Smile' - a list of random things that I adore, and I may even throw in a few things that I wrote with an old pal of mine, under the title, 'Adventures of Pat & Marge'.
So please stay tuned folks.....plenty more madness to come!! Insert evil laugh track now..

I've Got The Music In Me.

Yup, it's true....I am wired for sound.
There is little in life that I enjoy more than music. I am a junkie and I got hooked at a pretty early age.
Our house was always filled with music, especially on a Sunday. While some people attended church, we learned to worship the Gods of music. For my mum, these were the likes of Hank Williams, Dolly Parton, Loretta Lynn and pretty much anyone else who grew up singing on a porch somewhere in rural America. My mum could tell you, who hit the bottle too much, who cheated on who, who owned a three-legged dog....whatever you needed to know - she could tell ya. She also loved Engelbert, Johnny Mathis and of course Tom Jones - if you're Welsh, it's the law, you have to love the Tom. Failing to do so would result in being stoned to death or being burned at the stake....I believe you had the choice.
My dad on the other hand, loved the Rat Pack, especially Frank and Dean. Those were definitely the most played, but his record collection was vast and varied. Motown artists, big band, show tunes, pretty much a little of everything.
He housed his collection in a front room closet that he converted with just shelves to hold his hundreds of records. He also went to the effort of cataloguing each and every one, and assigning them with a reference number, that I'm pretty sure could only be cracked with the aid of an Enigma machine.
Every Sunday, for many years of my childhood I would be awoken by the sounds of my dad singing to Frank or Dean in his microphone - yes, not only did he have a mic, he had a reel to reel set up and a lightbox from Radio Shack that would pulsate to the beat of the music and send off the most dazzling array of colours throughout our living room. We had our own Vegas style lounge right in our house. On occasion, if friends were over on the weekend, I would have to hurry them past the living room down the hall to my room. Then once in the safety of my room, they'd ask....'was that your dad?' I'd reply, 'I've never seen that man before!'
On trying to escape out of the house we'd again, have to pass this spectacle, I would have to warn, 'pay no attention to the man behind the curtain, well more correctly - saloon doors. My parents actually installed saloon doors between our living room and kitchen - I guess the feeling of the 'wild west' was a decorating trend circa 1977?! Perhaps an ode to Gunsmoke?
Next, heading out the back door we'd have to pass by my brother and some random hippie friend, playing guitar on the back steps. I could tell which one was my brother due to the Dylan t.shirt which he was rarely without, other than that give away, they all looked the same to me. Shaggy brown hair, sandals and a guitar.
Most of my childhood memories have some sort of musical connection.
Whether it be searching for an Elton John poster to give my brother Jeff for his birthday, or having my other brother, David, try to convince me to make him 'flame pants'. Yet another one of his hairbrain ideas, he thought this could be part of his stage get-up. Inspired by KISS, he was ready to hit the world of rock n' roll and hit it hard. Never mind the fact that he had no musical talent to speak of, all he needed was some cool jeans with flames on the legs and the ability to shoot flames from his mouth! The latter, he could do! This would be only one of many schemes that he would try and recruit me for...I'm sometimes amazed that I managed to survive all of it!
Even our TV viewing usually involved music. Despite the fact that we only had channels U-13 and had to 'clunk,clunk' our way to each one of them, we still managed to fill our that big ol' console screen with tunes.
Parent faves of Lawrence Welk ( ah-one and ah-two, and of course the bubbles) and Hee Haw with Mr. Roy Clark, and then the shows that they would try and convince us were for us, Donny and Marie and the Rene Simard Show (granted he was hotter than Lawrence).
I can even remember being about 15, at McDonald's with a few friends, and singing along to the muzak. I hadn't even realized that I was doing so, until several songs in, one of my friends said, 'how do you know all of this music?'
I replied, this is Charles Aznavour...don't you know it too? It was then that I realized that indeed, I had the music in me.
There is no escaping it and for that, I am very grateful growing up exposed to such an appreciation for music.
Music has soothed me through every rough patch in life and been with me to celebrate the triumphs and every emotion in between. It can take me away to almost anywhere that I want to be, and in almost any situation, I really can find the answer in a song.
There is no greater joy for me, than to listen to a good song. One of the best things that I've passed on to my kids is my love for music and now I have 2 boys who love music as intensely as I do.
I've got the music in me....and now, so do they!

Buggin' Out!!

Ok, let me set the scene for you....I've just set off for work, lovely crisp morning, the sweet sounds of Ron Sexsmith fill my car, perfect conditions for a nice relaxing commute to Abbotsford.
I'm only a couple of blocks from my home, and as I pull up to the stop sign.....I see it....yes IT!! He is sitting there with evil intent in his eyes, and he's looking at ME...GULP!!
I'm pretty sure he has massive fangs and if I had a microscope in my glove box...I could've confirmed that fact, but as I don't always carry one with me, you'll just have to believe what I say to be true. My initial feeling of sheer terror has now at least been replaced with only mild terror. You see, on first spotting I thought my it was a spider who decided to hitch a ride on my steering column but upon my second glance I can see it's just some weird coloured beetle-y thing. Not much bigger than a ladybug, but still big enough to take a sizable chunk out of my body if he so desired! Now, I know that I'm a big ol'loser when it comes to the bug world and I'm fully aware of how irrational my fear is.....so there is no need to give me the old...'do you know how big you look to that little bug routine'...heard it all before...and yup, small though I am...I am bigger than a bug. Got it.
To give myself a little credit, I am getting a wee bit better with this fear of multi-legged things...(sorry for getting all technical there.) I try not to inflict pain...okay...KILL a bug on his own turf. I have made that pact with the bug community long ago, but when they enter into my own space, well then, it's sort of like when an opposing gang strolls through your territory...ya know, like I'm the Crips and they're the Bloods....wearing their little bandana's, showing up in my hood, and getting all up in my face.
Okay, clearly I have been watching way too much Lockdown....note to self, cut down the watching of prison documentaries to 2 episodes per night, max!
Anyways I think you get where I'm coming from....he's on my turf!
There are several breaks in the traffic, giving me plenty of opportunity to leave my place at the stop sign, but I can't move until I can sort out this tough dilemma.
If I leave him be, one of two things will surely happen...both with dire consequences. I could ignore him, just forget he's there (ya right!), but if I do that, and at some point he hits the runway for take off, well then I may get startled and drive into oncoming traffic...this would cause a chain reaction of brake slammers, and undoubtedly cause a 20-30 car pile up...not good! If I ignore him and he goes AWOL, then I would be worried as to where he went. I think we could put money on the fact that if he moved from where I could see him, he would head straight down to my leg, embedding himself under my skin...where he would go unnoticed for weeks, feeding on my flesh until he got so big that there would be a noticeable lump under my skin and one day it would just POP!! I think this may've happened to someone before...I think I saw a show about it on TLC.
So I guess for my safety, and that of the public too, I must 'deal' with him.
Now if he had picked the ledge of my door to sit on, then I would've merely given him a light flick to freedom. As he's chosen a slightly rounded place to sit, I can't risk trying to get him to climb on a piece of paper so I could then release him...to difficult to maneuver - I'm afraid I'm left with no choice other than a quick and hopefully painless 'disposal'.
Now, I'm not one to normally play the 'damsel in distress' card, but GAWD if there is ever a time when I feel tied to the tracks, it's when I'm faced with those in the creepy crawly world. I am alone though...and I must do it.
I open the glove box to grab a napkin to help me do the deed. DAMN!! Where is a grease stained Wendy's napkin when you need one - another note to self...eat at Wendy's more often and always ask for extra napkins!
I need to make my move fast before he starts to smell death in the air and tries to make a move. I go into my work bag and pull out a tissue...I don't really want to use it though, they are my 'best-use sparingly' ones. I'll have to use one...making this choice even worse is the fact that they have butterflies printed on them.
Now if that isn't a slap in the face to him...killing him with a 'bug themed' weapon.
On the other hand, knowing that the last thing he'll see is a butterfly coming at him...well it's almost like I'm not even doing it. The butterfly did it, in the silver Corolla, with the candlestick!!
I make my move...quick as lightning, it's over. Now what do I do? I have one balled up tissue in my hand containing the remains (I hope). I don't want to open it to confirm that he's in there, nor do I want to leave it in my car, in case he's still in there, playing dead until I reach work and he can make his escape.
UGHH!! Now I decide the only way to be done with this whole awful experience is to dump the body...I hate holding this thing in my hand...I need to think quick.
Within the next few blocks I decide to do something that I NEVER do....and I do mean NEVER...I have to litter!!! Could this story have any more ugly turns in it?!
I'm practically breaking out in a cold sweat at the thought of littering....see I'm not such a bad person after all...take that, you who chose to judge me early in this story!! ;-)
Once again, I feel that I have no choice and looking around I see one lone construction dude walking on the road, I wait until he turns his head for a split second and woosh...out my window it goes. I look in my rear view mirror and see my little tissue bounce on the ground and come to it's final resting spot.
In the span of a few blocks and only minutes into my commute...my serene feeling is long gone. Five minutes ago, I was happily singing along to 'Hard Bargain' relaxing in my office on wheels and now, as I approach Fraser Hwy....I hang my head in shame. I am a murderer!!
No, it's worse than that, I'm a murderer - who litters!!
So there you have it, I'm admitting my crime and I do indeed, feel remorse, so I think that I am a good candidate for rehabilitation! With the right programs I will become a better person...I promise.

Hmm....I guess watching all those hours of Lockdown were good for me after all!!

But wait...

It's the line, I always wait to hear....you know it's coming, the final ploy to get you to buy something on an infomercial. I guess it terms of hook, line and sinker...it would be the sinker.

The hook of course, is the product. Be it the sham-wow (made by the Germans don't cha know), or the knife that you can cut a pop can with or maybe some of those stylin' blue blocker sunglasses or my new favourite, mighty putty.

The line, is having those incredibly dynamic aka mentally unstable folks that hawk the stuff. They tell you of all the benefits of the product and why you need them to make your life better. They are usually men, who have to shout the benefits of the products to you despite the fact that they are usually hooked up with some head mic that makes them look like there may be a chance, at any given moment they may break into song ala Britney...well song-ish.
I guess the shouting shows you how enthused they are about the product and they just want to make sure that you hear the benefits of their goods.
I can't count the number of times that I've had to cut a pop can in half, just before I need to cut some tomato slices for a sandwich... so handy to be able to do that with one knife, instead of the days when I used to bring my hacksaw indoors...a big time saver for sure!!
And by the time I take my next sun filled vacation I will make sure that I am donning a pair of blue blockers...I guess if I headed to Florida, they may even have other styles available there...the Del Boca Vista series maybe or perhaps the Golden Girls line...sounds sexy non??
The fact that they are big enough to cover half of my face is a real bonus, it means that I'll be saving money hand over fist on sunscreen...now I only need to do my chin and the top inch of my forehead...AWESOME!!!
I know for a fact Tony is leaning heavily towards the sham-wow...he has been using a similar product...let's call it the sham-PNE for years and swears by it.
For me though, I'm putting my money on the mighty putty. I think this will become a very useful thing to have around the home. I'm thinking if you can use it to install a shelf that will hold 350 lbs of weight, then it will be a good parenting tool as well. When I tell the kids to go in their room for a time out, no longer will I have to worry about them coming out every few minutes with the usual...'can I come out now?'...no siree, I plan on using my mighty putty to mount the kids to the wall...that way I can ensure that they won't come out until I'm good and ready to let them out!! Not sure how easy it is to remove though....hmmm, may have to read the fine print on that one!
This product really gives great value for the money, household uses, a parenting tool and the means to start up a new business!!
As Mr. Billy Mays aka GI Joe demonstrates, mighty putty can pull an 80,000 lb tractor trailer, so having that information combined with my natural entrepreneurial spirit, I figure that I may soon be entering the towing business.
All I'll need is a trailer hitch and my trusty putty....very low start up cost indeed!
I plan on concentrating on the big rig market, no more need to use those mega tow trucks, nah-uh...just Mel, my Corolla and my putty! This winter I'm going to head up and down the interior of BC looking for truckers in need, I will become like a guardian angel to these burly, lumber hauling, plaid shirt wearing, greasy spoon eating, peeing on the side of the road, dudes who made wearing a trucker hat fashionable. I may even, if the budget allows, fashion myself a halo made from pipe cleaners...kind of set me apart from the other tow truck operators.
I can hear their gruff voices calling me now....'breaker, breaker....Mel Angel we need you good buddy, do you copy?'
I will reply via my vintage cb radio, 'this is Mel Angel I read you my burly one and I will be there in a jiffy, 10-4'.
Oh, I can almost hear the sweet sounds of my bank account growing as I write this!
Note to my friends....as all new business have their hiccups, I think it would be wise for me to advise you NOT to drive behind me when I'm towing....just in case!
See, sometimes infomercials can be very useful.

But wait, if you comment on this blog in the next 4 minutes, I'm going to double the amount of time I'll be your friend....and that's not all....if you say nice things in your comment, I will keep all of the 'stuff' that I know about you to myself. Yes, you heard correctly....I will remain silent about the details of 'that' Friday night.
If you are not completely satisfied with my blog, just keep your memories of me and send me $19.95 to cover the handling costs.

Could this be
the Canadian cousin of Seinfeld's
'Assman'?? Hmmmm....

Nothing Needs to Happen

Nothing needs to happen
no expectations
nothing is going to change
same old life, it will remain

It's what you feel
that makes it real
everyday life will stay the same
it's only you that knows my name

Let the words
escape from your lips just once
speak the truth
even if no one will ever hear you

Send it to the skies above
tell them, of who you love

you tell me the same truth that you tell yourself
while the real truth sits on a shelf

From the poetry vault.

Open Your Eyes and See

A small space of light gradually grows large,
and soon after, the darkness covers it up.

Try to see the light while there is still time to,
and while there's still something to see.