Tag Archives: love

Words

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Words.

They flow so easily from your lips.

Momentary sounds of normalcy

That hold no meaning.

They change nothing,

They hide the sepsis

That slowly builds,

Pressing ever harder

Into our every morning.

I’m no better.

Eyes wrinkle in amusement,

Thoughts emerge, wrapped in softness,

Trying to hide the harshness

That lies beneath, barely hidden.

Cold feelings disguised in warm notes.

And all I can think

As I stare across the table;

The only true feeling inside

Is a solitary echo:

I can’t do this anymore.

(Image is property of owner and is used here without permission.)

It’s a sad, sad, sad, sad world

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Go to YouTube and search for Sid Caesar.

Right now. Don’t wait.

I’ll still be here when you get back.

Comedy lost another titan today with the passing of Sid Caesar at the age of 91.

A man who defined television sketch comedy as we know it today.

A man who trained and/or gave voice to some of the greatest comedic minds of the 20th century, including Carl Reiner, Mel Brooks, Mel Tolkein, Danny Simon, Larry Gelbart, Neil Simon and Woody Allen through shows like Caesar’s Hour and Your Show of Shows.

A physical giant, Caesar was capable of playing the brutish husband or the nebbish boyfriend. He brought laughs and tears. And he was the first to let his co-stars shine. Stars like Imogene Coca, Nanette Fabray, Howard Morris and Carl Reiner.

I am confident that all of these people would have influenced my life in one way or another without the likes of Sid Caesar, but he formed the nexus around which my comedic galaxy spun.

Thank you, Sid. Know that you were loved.

 

Related posts:

My Favorite Life

My Creative Journey

Jonathan Winters

 

My Favorite Life

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Peter O'Toole as Alan Swan

Peter O’Toole as Alan Swan

The announcement of Peter O’Toole’s death came as a bit of a shock to me. Not so much that he died—he was a very old gentleman—but rather in how it affected me. I felt like I’d lost a friend whom I had not seen in quite some time.

Fairly or unfairly, I give Peter O’Toole a lot of credit for the life that I am leading right now: the life of a creative artist who plies his art with words. You see, Peter O’Toole was the biggest name in a little movie that might not have seen the light of my consciousness had he not been in it.

The movie is My Favorite Year.

My Favorite Year poster

For the uninitiated (For shame, Swanny), the movie tells the story of a couple days in life of a budding young comedy writer working in the 1950s on the King Kaiser Show; a clear homage to Sid Caesar’s Show of Shows. On the day the movie opens, Benjamin is going to meet his greatest hero, fading matinee idol Alan Swan; a clear homage to Errol Flynn. Unfortunately, Swann’s star has faded into alcoholism and practical destitution, and it becomes Benjamin’s job to keep Swann sober enough for the live television performance. The rest is a love story between these two men; one ascending, the other wishing he were dead.

If that doesn’t want to make you see the movie, you’re dead yourself.

The thing is, for all the university science degrees and work I had done, my life was incomplete. What I didn’t realize right away upon seeing My Favorite Year—mostly because the young are stupid and blind—was that I desperately wanted to be Benjamin. More accurately, I WAS Benjamin, I just didn’t know it.

Benjamin Stone stares lovingly at his idol and now friend Alan Swan

Benjamin Stone stares lovingly at his idol and now friend Alan Swan

I was a creative writer. I was a comedy writer. But I didn’t know how to express it beyond my own personal doodlings. And even if I had, science seemed the more rationale move (btw, I love science…really, I do).

As I’ve related in previous posts on my creative journey, it wasn’t until my wife took me aside one day and cornered me into answering what I wanted to do more than anything that I realized and embraced my inner Benjamin.

My life of today was still about a decade away, but that moment, that recognition, that admission started the ball rolling.

I had a visual to go by, a guide. I couldn’t go back in time to write for a 1950s sketch comedy show, but I could work toward the modern equivalents.

The other posts will tell you what I did, but without having seen My Favorite Year, I might not have been able to articulate my dream that fateful day.

And without Peter O’Toole, there might not have been a My Favorite Year to see.

So thank you, Mr. O’Toole. Aside from being one of the finest actors to walk this stage, you made dreams come true. This dreamer will be eternally grateful.

 

Links of possible interest:

My Favorite Year trailer

If I were truly plastered (scene)

This is for ladies only (scene)

Who the hell is Niblick? (scene)

(Images are property of owners and are used here without permission, but a lot of love and gratitude)

Little Joe’s Heart at rest

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Goodbye

I am saddened to report that Little Joe has “joined the angels”. He gave life a valiant effort but in the end, was unable to win the fight.

My heart goes out to his parents and his beautiful sisters, who stood by his side throughout his too brief time with us.

I hope you will join me in remembering this little boy who brought so many people together and who reminded us how fragile life can be.

We can still remember Little Joe by continuing to spread the urgent need for people to register as organ donors. Although we were unable to help Little Joe directly, his legacy and memory will live on.

Peace be with you, little man. Know that you were loved.

 

Story background:

500 views of Little Joe’s Heart post

Little Joe’s Heart – An infant awaits a donor

A parent’s call in the darkness

 

Risking it all

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Risk

A friend of mine recently posted the above sign on her Facebook page, and I had no choice but to share it with my Facebook community (and now you). Although I find the sentiment a little negatively toned as worded, I completely agree with it.

As many of you know, I jumped off a cliff about 18 months ago, completely turning my life upside down in pursuit of the dream of being a screenwriter. To do that, I have made a large number of sacrifices to the way my life was, but in the interim, I have discovered some wonderful things—about me and my friends—that I might never have learned if I hadn’t.

Last week, I had drinks with another friend, someone who had made a similar jump to mine. Like me, he has had some wonderful times during this phase of his life, but he is also struggling with doubt and the sense that the years of effort haven’t paid off as he would have liked. Doubt is a thing I understand.

At this moment, I have no doubt or at least not about my dream. It seems as real and viable as ever. Its realization is simply a matter of time in and work on my part. I revel in these moments and wish my friend could feel the same way right now.

When doubt does creep in, however, I do my best to give it context.

The doubt: Can I afford this conference? Is this screenplay any good? Have I made a mistake? Am I a fraud?

The context: What is the alternative?

I look back at my life before I made the jump and I realize that I can’t go back to that. This is not to say that it was all miserable…I had love and support; I enjoyed aspects of my jobs; I met wonderful people. But in many ways, all of those positives were for naught back then because I was miserable.

I was living my life for other people. I based my identity on my job and what I did for other people. I was only as good, as valuable, as loved as other people told me I was, and deep inside, I truly suspected they were lying. Through no fault of theirs, I couldn’t have faith in them because I didn’t have faith in me.

So, when I finally jumped off the cliff, I realized that what I was risking was a life of well masked misery and distrust. Hardly much of a risk from my perspective.

I understand that others cannot always jump as wholeheartedly as I did. They have responsibilities that I did not have.

I have no children. My wife and I were separating for other reasons (nice to say she remains my strongest and most loving advocate and supporter). My family responsibilities had all but disappeared. My jumping would leave no one in the lurch.

So, maybe you can’t jump like I did. I’m not suggesting that it is right for everyone. But to not jump at all in pursuit of a passion is folly.

Every day you maintain the lie, whatever your personal lie is, is another day you risk it all.

It will be scary. You will have doubts. But you’re not doing anyone any favours, least of all yourself, by continuing to pursue activities, attitudes or a life that is crushing you.

I hope my friend relocates the wonder in what he is doing and continues to explore his adventure. If he will let me, I am happy to help him in any way I can.

He is a very lucky man because he is surrounded by love and support from a community of people who adore him and want him to be happy. I hope he can take energy from that. I know I do.

500 Views of Little Joe’s Heart post

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500

AMAZING! Thank you all, so much.

As of earlier today, my blog post updating the story of Little Joe’s Heart had received 500 views.

My gracious thanks to all the people on Twitter who have and continue to retweet my original posts and to friends on Facebook who shared the post on their Facebook pages.

Together, we are raising awareness of the need for organ donors.

Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!

Be A Donor (Canada)

OrganDonor.gov (US)

Donate Life (US)

NHS Blood and Transplant (UK)

Little Joe’s Heart – An infant awaits a donor

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As some of you may recall from a previous post (A parent’s call in the darkness), I told you about a friend of mine whose infant son is in desperate need of a heart transplant to keep him with us.

Almost a month and a half later, I am happy to report that Joe is still fighting, refusing to give up, but am sad to say that he is still waiting for a donor.

Super Joe

Word is getting out, though, and even if Joe cannot be helped in time, his parents’ efforts to raise awareness of the need for organ donors (including this YouTube video) is having an impact.

Like this recent report on Global TV News: Parents Pin Hopes on Heart Transplant

Or this retweet and plea from actress Shannon Elizabeth:

Shannon

Or this message of support from Grey’s Anatomy star Ellen Pompeo:

Pompeo

And of course, the continued love and support from hundreds of people worldwide.

Please do what you can to support organ donor registry in your area. None of us may be in a position to help Joe directly, but we can all do something to help other families going through the same turmoil and fear.

Please reblog this post to help spread the word. Joe and his family (and I) will be ever so grateful.

Joe and his twin sister

Joe and his twin sister

Attraction

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Reading

I know it was static

That caused her hair

To reach for my arm;

Its gentle fibers

Mingling with mine.

A connection tenuous

Yet signalling more.

No attempt at retreat,

No urge to disconnect,

Only stationary comfort

Between two souls.

My arm immobile,

Exchanging warmth,

Seeking meaning,

Awaiting more;

The glimpse of an eye,

The curl of a smile,

The eddies of a sigh

Could not convey more

Than the subtlest attractions

Of the smallest ions.

 

(Image is property of owner and is used here without permission, so don’t give me any static.)

Top 50 Events – A personal perspective

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mirror

On Monday, November 18, I celebrate my 50th birthday. To commemorate the half-century, I have tried to look back and capture my fondest memories or most life-changing events.

The following list is not in order, although the subject of event #2 would likely have no problem believing she ranks after #1 and possibly as low as #5. She can be assured little of this would have nearly the meaning or significance to me without her presence for much of it.

  1. Had my sketch comedy performed at Second City Toronto
  2. Married an amazingly intelligent woman
  3. Interacted with a Henson puppet
  4. Saw Star Wars (you cannot overstate the impact of this on me)
  5. Wrote my first screenplay
  6. Met Nicholas Lemon, puppeteer, actor, friend
  7. Coached adult hockey (beer league but it was hockey)
  8. Performed stand-up comedy (never again)
  9. Discovered the Beatles (not saying I was first to)
  10. Was bylined in a magazine
  11. Wrote sketch comedy for a television show
  12. Attended Patrick Roy’s last game as a Montreal Canadien
  13. Watched a Habs game at the Forum and the Leafs at the Gardens
  14. Snorkeled in Barbados, Costa Rica and Hawaii
  15. Became friends with my brothers
  16. Was a scientist
  17. Performed improv on the Second City stage (as part of SC Training Centre…don’t want SC mad at me)
  18. Visited Chichin Itza
  19. Taught college/university students
  20. Owned a collie named Rebel
  21. Photographed orcas in British Columbia
  22. Went to Disneyland
  23. Attended the Austin Film Festival
  24. Met Chris Vogler, author of The Writer’s Journey
  25. Published my own magazine Aliquotes
  26. Experienced 9/11 from Washington, DC
  27. Impacted by murder of John Lennon
  28. Visited Iceland
  29. Played with ferrets
  30. Saw Shakespeare performed in Stratford, ON
  31. Eloped to and married in Algonquin Park
  32. Received spread in Globe & Mail from my PR efforts
  33. Saw George Carlin, Bill Cosby and Billy Connelly on stage (Gods)
  34. Skated on the Rideau Canal during Winterlude
  35. Eulogized my grandparents
  36. Traveled to both coasts with grandparents
  37. Had my heart broken
  38. Discovered bipedal locomotion (hey, it was the 60s)
  39. Watched the movie My Favorite Year
  40. Received an electric typewriter for Christmas
  41. Saw the crystal structure of the active site of a GTPase (it’s a geek thing, but beautiful)
  42. Watched the Toronto Marlies make the Calder Cup Finals (see also ‘heart broken’)
  43. Saw an ad I created on the Toronto Transit system
  44. Met Peter Noone of Herman’s Hermits
  45. Discovered sex (again, not first; obviously, this list is not in order; strangely, Star Wars still ranks higher)
  46. Witnessed Toronto Varsity Blues win Vanier Cup on blocked last-second field goal attempt
  47. Rode in a submarine in Hawaii
  48. Did astral photography on a mountain top in Hawaii
  49. Birth (it meant a lot to me)
  50. Celebrated 40th birthday at pool hall with wonderful friends

Lest we forget: Thanking the fallen

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Remembrance Day Poppy

On November 11th in Canada, we take a moment out of our day at 11am to remember those who have fallen in war to define and defend our rights and freedoms as a nation and a people. We call it Remembrance Day and in the British tradition, we symbolize it with a poppy.

I am of the fortunate age that while I never had to experience the terror of war myself, I am old enough to have spoken with many of my family members who have served in the Canadian military both in times of war and in times of peace.

My great grandfather Francis Sowden served in the First World War, the war whose Armistice Day we commemorate. My grandfather Allan Eby served in the Second World War as part of the Canadian forces that invaded Italy and freed the region from Nazi occupation. Similarly, my great uncles served in the military, one making it his career.

Each man had his own experiences. Each man could relate his own stories.

I remember fondly, when I grew old enough to understand, listening to my grandfather relate his experiences; in some ways, his greatest days and in others, his worst. In his own gentle way, he taught a brash young know-it-all with all the answers on the failure of war a thing or two about life and the need to defend freedom when called upon.

Beloved and missed

As I visited my grandparents’ gravesite the other day, I came upon the graves of several other soldiers, their tombstones clearly marked, their ranks smartly inscribed. And I stopped for a moment to thank them for their sacrifices.

It was only then that I noticed a monument atop a hill, something I had never seen before, that paid homage to the fallen. A soldier with bowed head. Very humbling.

To the men and women who sacrificed everything for my home, I thank you.

To the men and women who served bravely or waited nervously for family members to return home, I thank you.

To my friends who continue to serve for Canada or any other country, I thank you.

As long as I am alive, your story will not go unheard or unremembered.