Celebrations on Ice

"Hockey captures the essence of Canadian experience in the New World. In a land so inescapably and inhospitably cold, hockey is the chance of life, and an affirmation that despite the deathly chill of winter we are alive." - Stephen Leacock

My workweek wrapped up yesterday with a level of fatigue I haven't experienced in a long time. There must be something in the air because I've been nursing clients through one crisis after another all week. Merv and I were scheduled to attend a Raptors game as part of a business function last night. We were buried in our first significant snow of the year and I was scheduled for an all afternoon board meeting at the Clinic preceded by lunch with my friend Judy. I planned to take the subway to the Clinic so I could proceed by TTC to meet Merv and we wouldn't have two cars downtown. My original intention was to do a little work and meet Judy at noon. But three crisis calls from clients derailed my plans. Noon became one o'clock. One o'clock became two-fifteen. Judy ordered sandwiches and I ended up eating mine while we were in our Clinic board meeting.

My blackberry buzzed wildly all afternoon and by the time we wrapped up our meeting at five o'clock, I was already frazzled and exhausted. Originally I wasn't supposed to accompany Merv to the Raptors game. The hosting company had organized the evening as a "Take Your Kids to the Game" event. Merv did advise he would go alone as Jacob is back at school but the company sent Merv two tickets by mistake. When he called them they suggested he bring me along. I didn't know until just before we got there that this would be a primarily kid based event. The truth is, the Raptors game was the last place I wanted to be. I longed to go home, put on my pajamas and watch the women's Olympic curling match and the men's semi-final hockey game. Alas, I put my best face on and went to the game. We sat in the gondola box, right in the rafters of the ACC, where at least I could watch the women's curling match on the box TV, albeit without the sound.

Seated behind us in the box was a rather enthusiastic boy, about ten years old, who had decided that his primary objective of the night was to scream as loudly as possible, without ceasing. My already jangled nerves were hanging by a thread. The noise and hype in the ACC were painful. The Raptors played badly and when the game went into overtime, I just wanted to cry. I had more than enough of the players, more than enough of the semi-clad women who are billed as the Raptors' Dance Team and more than enough of the screaming child behind me.

I was thinking throughout the evening about the difference between what I was seeing on the basketball court and what I was seeing on the small TV in the box. The juxtaposition of a bunch of over-hyped, over-paid basketball players against four women who played a curling match for the joy of the game and the honour of their country was incredible. The Raptors lost the basketball game and the Canadian women lost the curling match though they still earned the silver medal. The curlers also lost in overtime but ended their match with gracious smiles and good sportsmanship. No million dollar contracts, no semi-clad dancers - just grace and honour. A performance to make us all proud.

The men did win the semi-final hockey game so tomorrow they will go head-to-head with the U.S. for gold. By the end of the evening the men's speed skating team had also earned two golds and one bronze medal. When we got home, I tucked into bed and stayed awake long enough to watch the medal ceremonies at the speed skating track.

Tomorrow Merv and I are Aruba bound. As our flight leaves at 6:20 A.M., we've booked a room in the airport Sheraton so we can avoid the morning drive. It is unlikely we will be settled in Aruba in time to watch the men's hockey game tomorrow night but we should see the closing ceremonies. The only ice we will be near though, will be crushed and in my margarita.

Have a wonderful week.

Play Like A Girl

Good sportsmanship we hail, we sing,
It's always pleasant when you spot it
There's only one unhappy thing:
You have to lose to prove you've got it.

- Richard Armour

Do you know the way to be a great successful hockey player in Canada? Play like a girl. I just finished watching the Canadian women's hockey team win the gold medal in Vancouver, relegating the U.S. team to a silver medal finish after shutting them out of the final game 2 to 0. It was a really good game. The U.S. women out shot the Canadians but just couldn't find a way to put the puck in the net. The pace was fast, the crowd was enthusiastic and the quality of play was first-rate. At the end of the game both teams had reason to be proud of their performance.

I understand the disappointment the American women were experiencing at the end of the game. I can understand the tears and the long faces in the moments after the game. What I can't understand is how the long faces, sullen expressions and tears continued even through the medal ceremony while the silver medals were being hung around their necks. Going into the game, everyone was aware that someone would end the night with a gold and someone with a silver. Of course, both teams wanted to be golden but that couldn't be. Shouldn't the coaches be preparing their athletes in advance to behave with grace no matter what the outcome of the game. The Finns were ecstatic to be picking up their bronze medals. The American team did not lose, they were silver medal winners. How unfortunate that they couldn't enjoy the thrill of their medal victory. Instead of shining in their medal moment, they looked like a bunch of spoiled brats. How sad for them and for all the people who supported them.

On another note, I'm ready to blast the male commentators at CTV who continue to refer to our female Olympians as "girls". Tonight, one commentator even referred to the girl's hockey team. Skaters are called "girls". Skiers are called "girls". The gold and silver women's bobsleigh winners were called "girls" last night. And yet I can't think of a single time I've heard about the "boys" hockey team or the "boys" speed skaters, "boys" bobsleigh team, "boys" snowboarders..... This old girl has taken to screaming at the TV every time I hear it. At this rate, by the end of the week I should be completely hoarse.

Red Mittens, Scary Pants and Gold Speed Skating Suits

"Drawing inspiration from golfer Jesper Parnevik, Croatia's national soccer team, the circus and the night terrors of Lewis Caroll, Team Norway's pants are rumoured to be the reason they cannot be harmed by conventional weapons." - CBC Fashion Report

One of the things I've enjoyed during these Olympic games is the parade of fashion - some great, some horrific. Watching opening ceremonies was fun. The U.S.A.'s Ralph Lauren outfits look great though some Americans have criticized the prominence of the Pony on each piece. The Italians look like they just stepped out of the pages of Vogue. The very small Irish team is sporting a rather unattractive line in an electric green colour. The Russian team looks great. The Canadian fashion is actually pretty boring. After Roots lost the Olympic contract and HBC took over, our Olympic fashions retreated from really cool to ordinary. All except for our red mittens. When the red mittens were released in October, the Canadian population responded with enthusiasm. I went to the Bay the day after the line came out and several times each week through the beginning of February when at last I was able to buy them. In the Fairview Mall store, the mitten shipments were selling out within a couple of hours of hitting the store shelves - three thousand pairs at a time. The thing is, the mitts are very cool looking and very warm wearing. I bought ten pairs for Jacob and his friends, for myself and my sisters. Oprah featured them on her show last week. I will be hitting the store tomorrow to try to pick up a pair for my friend Margaret in Colorado.

I love the gold suits, complete with built in g-string, that the Japanese speed skaters have been wearing. Can't say the same about the weird suits of the Australian speed skaters. I don't care much for most of the snowboard pants. I hate the look of pants sliding down the butt with the crotch in the middle of the legs. It's supposed to be cool. I think it's just plain ridiculous. I keep waiting for people to break into a rendition of "Pants on the Ground". The Canadian snowboarders have been criticized by some of their peers for wearing their pants too tight. Somehow, their pants are tarnishing the cool image of snowboarders.

Some of the figure skating costumes have been interesting - from the fairly offensive "native Canadian" costumes worn by Russia's Oksana Domnina and Maxim Shabalin, to the very strange blue spacesuits worn by Tatiana Volosozhar and Stanislav Morozov of Ukraine to the pink lacy costume worn by the U.S.A.'s Johnny Weir - there has always been something to talk about.

But the fashion statement of the games goes to the Norwegian curling team who chose the most hideous pants of the century from the golf wear company - Loudmouth Golf. They are the same people who outfit golfer John Daly. It hurts me to look at those Norwegian pants. I can't help but wonder what they were thinking when they picked them out of the catalogue.

Lightfoot and the Olympics - Alive and Well

"The reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated." - Mark Twain

I'm trying not to let it get under my skin that the foreign press has been calling the Vancouver games the worst in Olympic history. Every minor glitch is being reported as disastrous. I really don't get it. Considering that a young athlete died in a trial run on the luge track on opening day, we've had a grim reminder of what really constitutes disaster so how a glitch in the zamboni or less than the desired amount of snow could be viewed as disastrous is quite beyond me.

It would also seem Canadian enthusiasm is getting under the skins of some people - particularly our friends south of the border. They think it is downright annoying that Canadians launched the "Own the Podium" program a few years ago in an effort to improve our rather sad record of winning medals. We're polite people in Canada. We're not supposed to care so much if we win, just that we got to play - oh please! Stephen Colbert from Fox TV's Colbert Report called Canadians "syrup-sucking ice holes" for denying American speed skaters practice time access to the Olympic Oval. In fact, no foreign athletes were denied access to the Oval but the U.S. team was asked to obey the ice rules in the Oval which they somehow thought should not apply to them. And in many quarters we are being criticized for being too strident in our celebration of the performance of our athletes. Since when is it a crime to cheer for your own team? On balance, I think people have been pretty gracious. There was a lot of cheering for the Slovakians at the first women's hockey team. The poor Slovakians were being so badly routed by the Canadian women that the Canadian crowd started to cheer for every good play and effort that the Slovakian team made. I doubt you would have seen that same graciousness from the home team crowd in Chicago.

I've loved the Olympics and I believe VANOC has done a great job. The city is beautiful. There have been no significant security problems and we've seen some wonderful, exciting performances from athletes around the world. The magic of the opening ceremony was not dampened for me by a hydraulic arm failure. As for the nay sayers, I'm not listening. I'm too busy sucking on the straw in my maple syrup slushie to really care.

On another note, last evening some twit posted a tweet on Twitter announcing the death of Canadian icon, Gordon Lightfoot. I doubt that Gordon Lightfoot was amused. This afternoon's news report confirmed that in fact Gordon is alive and well in Toronto, preparing for his next Canadian tour. I wouldn't be at all surprised if Stephen Colbert was the twit.

Oh Canada!

"The Olympics are a wonderful metaphor for world cooperation, the kind of international competition that's wholesome and healthy, an interplay between countries that represents the best in all of us." ~John Williams

Last night's opening ceremonies of the Winter Olympics in Vancouver were spectacular. Though I got to see only the last 45 minutes of the ceremony live (at the theatre for Little House on the Prairie - ugh!)I was enthralled every moment I saw and enchanted with the parts I saw only in replay when CTV reran the ceremonies at midnight.

After Beijing I think some people were concerned these ceremonies wouldn't be able to measure up. Beijing was truly wonderful as a celebration of Chinese culture and ingenuity. Vancouver was equally wonderful as a celebration of the very best parts of Canada. From the musical performances, to the Aboriginal rapper, the skier who manoeuvred through the rings to enter the stadium, to the native dancers and drummers, it was hard to decide what was best about the program. And lighting the torch in such a quintessentially Canadian way - as a team effort, said a great deal about the spirit of this country.

Though the purity of the celebration was dampened by the death of the Georgian luger, these sixteen days in Vancouver are all about the celebration of community, of excellence, of big dreams and hard work. I cannot recall a time I have felt more proud to be Canadian.

Sun, Sand and Sea

"O yellow eye,
let me be sick with your heat,
let me be feverish and frowning."
-Anne Sexton

I was watching Dr. Oz yesterday when he was speaking of the four instinctive cravings that human beings have - food, water, sex and sleep. He suggested that often people try to sate their desire for water, sex or sleep by eating. I can understand that. When struggling while dieting I always try to drink before I give into a sweet craving just to be sure I'm not confusing hunger with thirst. I'm very aware that I easily confuse hunger with fatigue. There is one big craving that I have though that isn't on Dr. Oz's list and lately I've been fighting with the urge to eat whole tins of chocolate coated biscuits to try to fill the void. I'm craving the feel of sun on my skin.

It is an odd thing in the mildest winter I can ever recall, that I'm having so much difficulty muddling through these February days. Clearly the problem isn't with snow or frigid temperatures as we really haven't had much of either. Yet I'm desperate for the heat on my shoulders, the feeling of sand under my feet and the sound of waves crashing against the beach. So on February 28, Merv and I will head off for a week in Aruba.

It will be a little odd having a sun and sea vacation without Jacob. We've had one as a family every March since Jacob was six years old. We've been to Mexico, Cuba, The Dominican Republic and Venezuela multiple times. Last March we spent two weeks in Hawaii. I've taken Jacob to Nassau and Merv and I honeymooned in St. Kitts and Nevis. We've also been to Grand Cayman and Jamaica. But neither of us have ever been to Aruba.

I hear there isn't much to do or see in Aruba. It is a small island, only 70 square kilometers of total space. I could walk from one end of Aruba and back to the other and still only have walked two thirds as far as I will walk in September on the Weekend to End Women's Cancers. Amazing. But we're not going there for the sightseeing. We're going for the beach and I hear it is one of the most beautiful beaches in the world. Works for me.

Up in the Air on Cloud Nine

"God knows I do everything I can to make you stand on your own two feet. Just be yourself. You don't seem to realize how insulting it is to me that you can't get yourself together." - Martin (from Caryl Churchill's "Cloud Nine")

As part of our subscription service, though not a part of the regular season, Mirvish Productions provided us with two tickets to "Cloud Nine" at the Panasonic theatre on Friday night. It looked like an interesting and promising night of entertainment. The play is set in two acts, the first act in 1879 in Colonial Africa; the second act in 1979 in Margaret Thatcher's England. The characters remain the same from act to act and though one hundred years have passed, the characters are only twenty five years older. It is quite sexually explicit, exploring several different tastes. Men play women and women play men. Adults play children. Blacks play whites and whites play blacks. The first act was quite entertaining. But Act II left me bewildered. At times the acting was flat and even at the best of times, I found myself working far too hard to understand what was going on. Merv didn't get it either so I know it wasn't just me.

On Saturday we headed off to the cinema to see George Clooney's most recent movie, "Up in the Air". The movie is an interesting hybrid of comedy and drama. I can relate to George's role as the "terminator". I've been there too many times. I can even relate to flying in to do the deed and then flying out again a few hours later. It reminds me of a downsizing I did once in Vancouver - about a dozen people in two hours. I flew into Vancouver on flight leaving Toronto in the early morning hours and flew back to Toronto the same afternoon. Twelve hours of flight time left me with just a couple of hours in the Vancouver Bank of America office.

While there are some very funny moments in the film, it also provides a view of the dark side - the pain and angst for both the terminator and the terminated. But more than being about employment loss, the film is about relationships and the normal human need for connection. As the film is only showing in two suburban theatres, I would guess that it will soon be out of theatres all together and released on DVD. If you get a chance to see it, it is definitely worth the price of admission.

Postal Service

“I get mail; therefore I am.” - Scott Adams

When Jacob first went away to school, he told me that one of the things he missed most about home was getting mail. I wasn't aware he got much mail at home. After all, it seems to me that most of my mail consists of junk, bills, bank statements and a couple of magazines. But in Jacob's case, even getting junk mail makes him feel less lonely. So I set out to make sure he gets mail. Cathy sent him a subscription to Maclean's. That ensures there will be something in his mailbox at least once a week. I send care packages. It's not always easy to come up with something to send. Often I buy gift cards for restaurant chains, movie theatres or department stores. He likes those. I've sent him a t-shirt, a scarf and a pair of Olympic mittens. His Aunt Nan sends him treats.

One of the things that surprised me is that Jacob is not the only member of his gang of friends who identified getting mail as one of the things they really miss about being at home. So I've tried hard to fill some of the gaps for them. Jonathan is the furthest from home so I pay particular attention to keeping a regular flow to his mailbox. Generally, if I send something to Jacob, I send something to Jonathan. His three friends at Waterloo have one another, so their care packages are less frequent. But today I sent them each a pair of Olympic mittens too. Jacob's friends Sara and Lindsay are both in Ottawa, albeit at different universities. I've sent things for them to share, like a movie pass for two, and a package with two scarves in different colours so they could choose between themselves. Most of the time, I don't hear from the kids when they get their packages. I just check through the post office on-line tracking system to make sure they were delivered and I leave it at that. Jacob usually tells me when he has received something, if he thinks of it. I don't hear directly from Jonathan or the Waterloo boys or Lindsay but it doesn't really matter. It makes me happy to send things and I assume it makes them happy to receive things. I always hear from Sara who sends me wonderful, long, newsie notes whether or not she has received a package. I send Sara a fair bit of mail as I know she more than anyone, loves to get it. And frankly, it's easy to find things to send to a teenage girl - I can always find a bauble for her hair or a t-shirt in a pretty colour or even a small throw to keep away the chill in her dorm room.

Before the school year started, I had never really mailed very many packages. I find it all quite interesting. The cost of mailing packages has a lot to do with one's choice of post office. It costs a lot less to mail a package from the post office in the Shopper's Drug Mart in Bayview Village than it does to mail one from the post office at the Shopper's Drug Mart in Fairview Mall. While the weight is the weight, the price of the package is also influenced by the dimensions of the package including the depth. The ladies at Bayview Village invariably calculate the depth of the package as far slimmer than do the ladies at Fairview Mall. I also think it is interesting that cost is determined by the distance the package travels in Canada (though that is not the case if you are mailing a letter or an item outside the country). Mailing a pair of mittens to Jonathan in Halifax, cost me more than the mittens did. For less than the price of mailing one pair by snail mail to Halifax, I mailed three pairs to Waterloo by express service. I'm getting to be an expert at packaging things in the most cost effective way. And frankly, I'm impressed with how efficient the postal service has been.

I like sending things to the kids. I miss them all so much. I want them to know that even though they are far away, they are always on the radar screen of their other mother.

Groundhogs and Gynecologists

"The groundhog is like most other prophets; it delivers its prediction and then disappears." ~Bill Vaughn

I've never understood the concept of Groundhog Day. Today Wiarton Willy saw his shadow which resulted in a prediction of six more weeks of winter. This is Canada and it's February 2. Even if Willy didn't see his shadow, we will have at least six more weeks of winter. I don't get it. Predicting we are going to have six more weeks of winter is like predicting the month after March will be April. A strange ritual indeed.

Happy Birthday to my two friends, Nancy and Fran who both celebrate Groundhog Day birthdays. I don't know if either of them saw their shadows when they emerged on the days of their birth.

Today my sister Nancy and I accompanied my mom to her quarterly gynecology appointment. It is getting harder each time we have to take her. It's extremely difficult to maneuver her into the car to make the drive downtown and we are no longer able to walk her from the car to the clinic building so we have to call for a porter to bring a wheelchair to the car. There is no place to legally park near the building on University Avenue so I pulled into a spot normally reserved for the hot dog vendor, put my flashers on and waited with one eye ahead of me and one eye in the rear view mirror watching for a parking cop. After fifteen minutes of waiting, the hot dog vendor pulled up behind me and proceeded to have a meltdown because I was in his spot. I had no place to go so I ended up driving in circles through the incredibly busy streets and then having to double park on University Avenue when the porter finally showed up after 25 minutes. Drivers were honking and upset. Nancy took her in while I looked for a place to park and then we repeated the process in reverse - I once again double parked while trying to load her back into the car while drivers behind me honked and flipped me the bird. Mom was so exhausted from the ordeal that she was asleep in the car by the time I had driven a block. My nerves were frayed as were Nan's. We brought Mom back to the nursing home and left her to have a little lunch and a long nap while we went and got a bite. Her next appointment is on May 5 - Cinco de Mayo. While I decompressed after this appointment with Chinese dumplings and tea, you can be sure next time I'll be decompressing over a margarita.