JO = CO

Tonight I have come to the conclusion that jobs, like carbon monoxide, are odourless, colourless killers. As I type to you via the backlit moonlight of my electronic leash, I can't help help but think that, like CO, jobs should have alarms installed to alert you to when the toxicity levels have reached life threatening.

"Eglington this stop. Eglington."

Tomorrow, is a new day and a new week but by 10am someone at the office will cast the first stone in a long line of empty threats that, with player piano like repetition, will resemble the laundry list of complaints from the week before and the week before and the week before. The sad thing is as aware of it as I am, I am more an active particpant than self righteous observer. The latter at least carries some degree of elitest cache.

"Scarborough this stop. Scarborough."

I think to equip people with an appreciation of art, beauty, tragedy, irony; to create a people capable of painting the mona lisa, flying ships to the stars, capable of infinite genius and kindness; to arm them with emotion and then subject to the soul destryoing monotiny of a task oriented lifestyle is a kin to cruel and unusual punishment.

"Danforth this stop. Danforth."

As we look back on the medival days of torture and ask ourselves how man could be capable of such inhumanity, I think the future will similarly look back at this "modern age" not as the dot com inspired, self-proclaimed, renaissance but as an era that had no respect for purpose. A people that were not forcibly enslaved but even more tragically were willing participants baited by big screen tvs, $100 shoes and the promise of bigger screen tvs and $300 shoes.

"Union this stop. Union?"

What the hell?

Seriously,

This is the weirdest thing I've ever seen.

http://www.whoorderedroomservice.com/

I welcome your insights.

How did I not think of this?

The award for my new favourite web idea goes to:

http://www.savetoby.com/

Many of you who know me have to be asking, "How did Oliveira not do this first!?".

I feel the same way... curses!

... be sure to read the hate mail in the updates section, it's pretty good.

Keeping it light: The Finite Nature of The Universe

It's funny what a motivator deadlines can be. Now I know I'm hardly being profound in my insights but it really dawned on me tonight.

You tell this band that we have a show coming up and we work harder. You tell me I have people coming over and I'll clean up.

I guess what I'm wondering is how immediate a deadline does it have to be to motivate a person to action?

I mean this may come a shock to you but I'm dying, I don't know how or when but one day I will die. If you told me it was in 2 or 3 years I'd travel, take risks, author a life's work of songs, go for it all at full speed but because I still have the youthful illusion of immortality I will probably sit on my couch tonight and watch The O.C.

I guess what I'm wondering is, at what point does complacency kick in? 5 years, 8, 10? Ours is a finite life here. Why, no matter how many funerals we attend, can we not hang on to that feeling of urgency that says, I should make something of my life? I should get off my ass and show some respect to the this winning lottery ticket I have been given called my life. On a global and historical scale the simple facts of where I was born, who I came from, the talents I have been given, make me one of the statistically luckiest people ever. However, with that comes a lot of guilt when you see people with 1/2 as much doing 3 times what you are.

I guess one of the greatest gifts we can give ourselves is that of appreceation and recognition. There's no way to exit this topic without an inevitable segue into a carpe diem type monologue but it really does stare us in the face sometimes.

So do me favour, right now, tell your partner you love them, call your parents, mend an old friendship, commit to that book you always wanted to write, anything but take the time for just a second to be the person you swore you would be after you left your last funeral.

So why am I in a rock band at 29 years old? Because I wished I wished I was in one at 25 and today is my only second chance.

Today is your only second chance.

I'm all thumbs

I write to you directly from the studio today thanks to the magic of the Blackberry electronic leash. At times this little gadget is pretty cool but most of the time it assures that I never truly leave work.

I know now that if for some reason I ever lose all my fingers I could still type with some proficiency if I could find a keyboard that is 3 and 1/2 inches wide and had keys the size of popcorn kernals. Sound ridiculous? Welcome to Blackberry. Next Research In Motion is apparently working on atomicly sized forks and knives.

Words

So I'm driving by a church the other day and I see the following on the sign:

Failure is the path of least resistance.

I don't know... I just liked that. It's my thing for the week.

The things that happen to other people...

So this morning I received some very unfortunate news and all day the thought has entered my mind

"Will I write about this? Is this suitable for the some blog on my band's website?"

In the end I stopped asking, found my way through a j and sat down to write.

Today I learned my father, my idol, my rock, a pillar of strength, a former special forces soldier, the picture of the dignified, old school patriarch, this man...has lung cancer.

Thanks to ongoing genius of The Lakeridge Health Corporation (Oshawa General Hospital) he has been misdiagnosed for some time. If you find yourself with your beating heart in your bare hand whilst standing in the lobby of the Oshawa General Hospital, I encourage you to leave and try to walk 2 towns over in lieu of getting, what will certainly be, the worst health care you've ever received.

Things are not sounding very promising right now. I realize that if he dies this blog will be an uncomfortable read if you start from the newest ones and run backwards. I hope you, the future, brought good news to whoever that may be.

I'm completely unprepared to deal with any of this.

That being said I'm not going to make a martyr of him, he smoked for almost 40 years and while I'd like to take a match to every tobacco company in the world and personally bare nuckle box every CEO, I can't in good conscience say that he was not without fault.

Today the absurdity of smoking appears under a microscope to me.

But wait there's more...

Brian Clark, my former friend and coworker of 10 years, a talented audio engineer and chronically confused individual was killed in a snowmobile accident. I received this news 1 hour after hearing about my father, for a brief second I thought I was actually convinced I was having the worlds most vivid dream. No such luck.

I welcome your prayers to whatever God you think will listen.