Mark Leslie's Blog

It wasn't until the end of the day yesterday when I finally figured out the answer to a strange little mystery that had been nagging me.

I was curious as to why the faucets at the washroom I'd been using at U of Montreal were reversed, with cold (C) on the left  and hot (H) on the right. I knew it wasn't a Quebec thing, because the faucets in my hotel room, which were colour coded (blue for cold and red for hot) were as expected. Hot on the left and cold on the right.

Also, by habit, I used the tap on the left (hot), and never clued in that the water running from it (marked C) was warm.

When I quickly glanced at the faucet on the right, I had abruptly interpreted the scripted letter there as some sort of fancy and strange "H" - but in fact, only noticed yesterday that it was an F.



C and F?

Then it struck me.

French.

C didn't stand for cold, it stood for the French word for hot, which is chaud. And that fancy script wasn't an "H", but an F, which meant froid.

It's funny how our mind makes quick and often incorrect assumptions that, although we are presented with concrete evidence that supports an alternative hypothesis (the water temperature, the F, the fact I was using a washroom in a predominantly French society), we ignore the facts and stick with that first assumption.

Sure, this is a simple thing regarding faucets in Quebec; but how many more other assumptions do we make each day which can have an adverse affect on the things we do and the people we communicate with?

I'm reminded of the importance to pause, step back, and take another look (attempt to take a fresh look) at something I thought I was looking at. And let the information presented to me try to get through rather than be filtered by the auto-editing that takes place in my perception.

A good thing to remember. A chaud little life lesson perhaps?

I love it when two awesome things combine to become something equally marvellous.

A classic that's a pretty common one for most people might be peanut butter and jam.

But I'm also thinking about when companies produce something - like when H.B. Reese combined peanut butter and chocolate to make Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. My taste buds still sing out in praise of the forward thinking that led to this glorious experience in yummy.

I was similarly impressed with the simple wonder of fry sauce - which is the merging of one part ketchup and two parts mayonnaise (two of my favourite basic condiments)

And this morning, while making my lunch, I marvelled at the combination of President's Choice Smokin' Stampede Beer & Chipotle BBQ sauce with mayo to make a new sandwich spread.



I thought it was worthy of pausing, snapping a quick pic and just acknowledging the wonder when two great things combine to make a whole new thing to enjoy.


* This post is titled "Pasricha Pastiche" in honour of the man of awesome, Neil Pasricha, whose books The Book of Awesome and The Book of Even More Awesome, inspired by his blog, help inspire people to take unabashed pleasure and joy from the many very simply joys each day brings. I had the pleasure of seeing him give a talk in person last month and continue to be inspired by his outlook on life. Thanks, Neil.

… … The title of this blog post "Change is bad; trust no one!" is something a buddy of mine named Mathew used to jokingly utter under his breath, particularly during the sweeping changes that struck Chapters Online during the dot com bust in 2000.

Mathew, someone who embraces change, was being cheeky when uttering that phrase, but the sad truth is it's the mantra of so many people.

I fell victim to it the other day.

But when I paused to actually look at the details, I realised I was being closed-minded and change-averse. And, interestingly enough, I was so upset with the change that I missed the fact that this change was good.

The President's Choice brand recently changed the packaging for one of their BBQ sauces - Smokin Stampede Beer & Chipotle BBQ sauces. Since I first discovered it, it has been among my favourites. We ALWAYS have a bottle in the house.

My immediate thought upon seeing the updated packaging was: "Oh great - smaller package, same price. The big companies are screwing with us again; giving us less while charging the same price, or more." In this case, the packaging changed, but the price remained the same (Although, admittedly, when a consumer gets this frazzled, you might as well have also "upped" the price)


Last night while BBQing, I used up the original sause, so brought out the new bottle. I was so upset, I even went to take a picture of the two of them side by side so I could tweet my disappointment to the world.

Of course, it was only when I was taking the picture that I looked closely at the label.

The new "smaller" package was still 1L - the exact same size as the original glass bottle. Only, the plastic one was, naturally, half the weight and much easier to grip in one hand. Also, when I went to pour it, the new packaging had an "easy to pour" flip lid, while the old one, while classic and stylish with a cork pop top, was messy.

Simply, the old packaging, while "neat" and unique, was too heavy, difficult to fit nicely in the refrigerator, too messy and just think about the freight involved in shipping a skid of them.

The new packaging (which runs the exact same price for the consumer) is lighter, easier to handle, easier to store, and easier to use. It's a phenomenal improvement.

However, remember my initial reaction? Negative. "Change is bad!"

Even though I joke and make fun, I fall victim to this close-minded perspective.

Perhaps there are other things changing that we're missing the boat on. That's definitely worth keeping in mind.

I'm not making fun. Really, I'm not. But I'm certainly having fun. So are a lot of others.

The Rapture and beginning of the end was supposed to happen May 21, 2011.

Let's be honest. The thought of the world ending, of the apocalypse? A little scary.  Even if a person doesn't believe or take it seriously, many can't help whistling past the graveyard.

I wasn't a believer that May 21st was the end of times, but I am a Christian. Religious beliefs are personal, and, of course, something that shouldn't be mocked or laughed at. However, that being said, I have used my own religion in horror stories I have written, both as a mirror held up to my own beliefs as well as a way to attempt to look at the beliefs I was raised with through someone elses' eyes.

I also understand that, for those who truly believed yesterday was a significant day, the fact the Rapture didn't happen is a big disappointment.

But some good did come out of it. People all over the world came together to share in some laughter, sometimes nervous, sometimes just raw unadulterated guffaws. (And in all honesty, I'm a firm believer that, no matter what spiritual belief you subscribe to, humour is universally good and something that can be shared.)

I participated in something being called "Rapture bombing" -- setting clothes up to make it look as if a person has been transported up to heaven. I thought it might freak out or confuse either some drunk stumbling home from a local bar or perhaps make a morning jogger look twice.


Mostly, it just confused my neighbours on their way to Canada's Wonderland early yesterday morning. They laughed when they later saw my Facebook post with the picture and the "ahhh" moment hit them.

There's a great article by Alan Boyle called "Left behind" by humorgeddon which nicely summarizes how the prediction opens the door for levity.

I particularly like the one post he eludes to in which David Kinsey, via a Facebook post suggesting people pose without their clothes (ie, pose their clothes without them in them), and then, at the end of the day, give them away to a charity. Great idea for people to have fun, then donate to a good cause. Two good things - a laugh, then a charitable donation. Smashing idea.

What Boyle says regarding the humour being a reaction to the stress of all the hype makes sense to me. A lot of my horror fiction, for example, pushes over into the absurd and dark humour in recognition of the manner by which we sometimes react to stress and horror -- we laugh. (I think one of my favourite collection of ghost stories is by Robertson Davies - it's called High Spirits, and the stories are just as humorous as they are eerie, they contain parody alongside chills)

But I've quite enjoyed some of the humourous references made to the Rapture, through Facebook, Twitter and in various other media sources. Twitter even had a humorous #endoftheworldconfessions hashtag. One of my favourites was when someone tweeted:  "I let the dogs out. It was me." as their confession.

One of the top 10 lists on David Letterman, for example, was regarding the top things to do during the "end times" - my favourite was the one about playing a slide whistle while the righteous ascended into heaven.

Writer Kevin J Anderson (@TheKJA) posted this on his twitter feed: "Oh, it's 6:30 already. I've been so busy editing I didn't even notice the world ending at 6 PM. Did somebody record it so I can watch later?" Seems he was making as much fun of our society's "I'll have it my way and when I want it" tendency as of the false prediction.

Another writer, Nancy Kilpatrick posted this to Facebook as her status:  "Well, now that the Rapture has come & gone, I can finish up with packing for NYC, I'm at BookExpo America on Wed., May 25th 10 am @ the main autographing (booth 22) for EVOLVE and 3 pm @ the HWA booth for CHILLING TALES. If you're there, stop by & snag a free signed copy."

A tweet I saw this morning from @MarkJustice went like this: "Hi, boss. I know I quit my job and told you I'd be in Heaven while you heathens would be left behind. Uh, could I have my job back? Hello?"

There are too many more examples to point to, but the evidence is clear. Speculation about the Rapture certainly allowed a chance for people to come together, be creative and share humour.

And that's a good thing.

I found out a few days ago that a friend of mine died last month.

Here's where it gets interesting, but isn't all that unique any more - not in today's online and connected society.

I've known this friend for about 5 years, knew her under various names/nicknames as well as her real name. But we never met in person. We were blogger friends. We'd connected via a weekly blogging ritual called HNT (Half Nekkid Thursday) in which people would post photos of themselves, typically taken by themselves, and then visit the other folks who would post the same. The photos would run the spectrum from "nekkid" meaning simple self-exposure shots of a person in their daily lives, or perhaps a simple shot of the paper cut on their finger they got at work that day, a picture of themselves with a dear friend, all the way to racy and less interpretive shots of "nekkid." But, often, the "exposure" wasn't the removal of clothing, but a peek into a person's inner self, an exposure of them. That, in my mind, has been where phenomenal connections and friends have been made.

I made a lot of friends through HNT and blogging (I started blogging in March 2005), some of whom I've established personal connections with "off-blog" and some of whom I've even had the pleasure of eventually meeting in person.

I never met Melanie Elizabeth Phillpott VanWinkle (also known in the blogging community as Stealth Bombshell and Texas Spitfire - perhaps other nicknames) in person. But we connected via blogging, via photos, via comments and silly humorous exchanges, and connected with our real names, later, via Facebook.

So I never knew her in person, but I knew her just the same. She touched my life, she made me smile, made me laugh, made me cry, made me think. I am a richer person for having known Melanie, even in this limited virtual way. And I am mourning her loss, but at the same time, wanting to celebrate her life and the fact that I have gained simply by knowing her.

The joys of the virtual online world exist. You can connect and share and communicate with great people you'd otherwise not have the pleasure of meeting in person. And that experience can enrich your life - because that's what other people do; they enrich your life.

But here's the rub: when that person dies, particularly when there's no "physical world" interaction in which people close to them know you know one another, what is the result? What is the healing ritual?

Typically, death involves ritual, involves a chance for people to say goodbye, for some ritualized sense of closure (even if the pain of that loss never fades away). But in virtual death, what is the ritual, what is the manner by which we can share our appreciation for having known a person, our sense of loss, our grief?

There was a fascinating discussion of this on a recent episode of CBC Radio's Spark between host Nora Young and guest Adele McAlear. And discussions like this help when dealing with this virtual loss. But it's true that we need to figure out a way to handle this all to common situation. A good conversation to continue.

But back to Melanie.

I found out Melanie died through another online friend who has enriched my life but I've not met in person. Osbasso recently posted a tribute to Melanie on his blog - the blog, whose weekly ritual connected Melanie and I, and thousands of other people together.

How do I properly grieve, other than post one of my favourite pictures of her and say something about her?

Thank you, Melanie - thanks for connecting, and thanks for enriching my life. May you rest in peace. May your dear friends and family find peace and comfort in all of the memories you gave them. And thank you for touching my life - there was nothing virtual about the way you enriched my life.

Watching the Conservative Harper majority government come into power last night was a little chilling, even for this writer of horror. 

I was fully prepared to have another minority Conservative government with the NDP as the official opposition. What I never suspected was just how decimated the Liberal party would be.

I'm still a little frightened.  Initially, to make myself feel better, I amusedly thought back to previous commentary I made about Mr. Harper being in office, back in Jan 2006 and October 2008): 

Jan 26, 2006 (Well I Didn't Vote For You! - inspired by a scene from Monty Python & The Holy Grail).  It opens with the following text.

Last night my son threw up in a sudden explosive burst.

This was at about the same time the news media was announcing the certainty that Stephen Harper was going to be Canada’s next Prime Minister.

And people say that babies don’t understand what’s going on in the world around them.

I know, snarky harsh words. But you must admit it's a bit funny. And that blog post goes on to explain the bizarre way in which we elect the leaders of our country. What better way than using a "Monty Python" inspired scene to do it?

But despire my initial concerns, here are few things that give me hope:

1) With such a startling new government makeup, there's a real chance for change, and a chance for the NDP to show us what they've got now that they have so many seats in office.

2) Within my own riding, the candidate I voted for got in, and she has consistently represented my concerns beautifully in Ottawa. (I pay attention not to the parties but to the candidates who represent ME in my riding, and I vote for the person who best fulfills that role - I'm delighted that both federally and provincially, the MP and MPP in my riding are solid upstanding leaders that I'm proud to have represent me)

3) While I still don't fully understand how 60% of Canadian's could vote outside of a particular party, yet that party still end up with a majority government, that % gives me a sense of hope that there is diversity and balance in the attitude of voting Canadians.

4) Elizabeth May, one of the party leaders I most admire, won in her riding, bringing the Green party into Ottawa - this is a refreshing opportunity for another fresh voice to be brought to the House of Commons. And wee desperately need that.

5) The leader's speeches were inspiring (unlike much of the pre-election debates) - Michael Ignatieff displayed perhaps his finest moment of leadership in his speech last night. Dignified, strong, respectful. Jack Layton kept on target talking about working for Canadian families, health care and jobs. And Stephen Harper's speech was inspiring (I fully expected he would still be our Prime Minister) and he was eloquently respectful of the other leaders. I'm curious to see if he will indeed work with the opposition and other parties to make a better Canada.

6) More people voted than in the previous election. THAT is important to me. Still, less than 62% of eligible voters turned out to vote. Really? What the hell is wrong with the 38% of Canadians who are demonstrating sheer "laziness and stupidity" by not voting? Every vote counts. YOUR vote counts. Don't let other people speak for you. (I have to stop now because just thinking about this type of lethargy makes me sick to my stomach - have to focus on the fact that MORE people voted this time around and hope that continues to improve as Canadians wake up and smell the democracy we're fortunate to live in)

So I remain cautiously hopeful. I am a "glass is half full" kind of guy, after all.

FYI, CHML has an excellent post that includes audio clips of the three main party leader's speeches last night. No, I didn't vote for any of them (because none of them are in my ridings), but I respect the things they each said in their speeches.

I had to laugh. I think it was last week when I was scanning through my daily dose of RSS feeds that I caught the term "the latest in mobile reading" -- of course I got all excited and was ready to dig into the details to learn all that I could about some new mobile reading device.

Then I paused and thought about it.  And yes, that's when I laughed at myself.

Here I was getting all excited about some hot new technology that would allow me to do something as exciting as carry a book around with me virtually anywhere.  I mean, I already have that technology resting on my hip in my iPhone -- I'm completely content to read books on the iPhone screen -- and yet, every time a new mobile reading device is announced I check it out, like some young child hungrily consuming the increase of toy advertisements on television during the approach of the Christmas season.


And yet, despite my fascination with the new technology, there's nothing all that new about being able to go mobile when reading.

Books have, for over 100 years, been mobile.  Of course, the invention of the mass market paperback in the 1930's revolutionized publishing and made books even more portable and mobile. (And yeah, I can't resist the already tired old joke about their "battery life" being incredibly beyond anything we've ever seen). 

After all, once of the most important things I pack on every single trip I take (or have taken for as long as I can remember) is a book (or two) to read.  The new mobility enabled in ebook reading devices, of course, means that without compromising packing space, I can now carry a lot more books.  Except I find that though I'm always packing a half dozen ebooks on me, I usually also bring at least one physical book.  Sometimes it's because it's not available in ebook format, for the convenience of it "always being on" or perhaps just because it's a life-long habit of mine.

So it's funny that we're using a term like "mobile reading" to refer not to a technology that has been around for multiple generations, but to something that is only recently emerging; and that when you see the term, you think only of the new technology.

Funny how times have changed and a new term can be born despite the fact that the activity of being able to "go mobile" and read has been with us a long long time. 

(Blog Flashback - speaking of mobile devices, check out my musings back in May 2006 about mobile audio from a few years back called "Kewl Dude Portable Listening Device." which I wrote shortly after purchasing my first mp3 player)

Sometimes the most obvious things escape a person. All the clues can be right there and all it takes is putting them together, without much effort or thought, and there they are.

Like this picture of my Dad.

I always assumed this was a shot of him either miming hugging the person taking the picture (most likely my Mom), or perhaps spreading his arm in welcome to their campsite (I'd also assumed this was taken up at Opeepeesway Lake, a fishing spot off Highway 144 in Northern Ontario near Timmins), as if to say "This is my campsite, but treat it like your home, everyone is welcome."

But yesterday I found out it wasn't that at all.

Yesterday, when my mom was looking at the picture (I was showing her the "Good Men Project" details I'd mentioned on my blog the other day) she smiled and immediately said: "Ah. The one that got away!"

The one that got away.

My Dad, in the picture, was miming "the one that got away" -- of course he was. Who knew my Dad better than my Mom? She was right on. Of course, she was also the person who took the picture, so she also brought with her the memory of what he'd been doing when the picture was taken. It was taken where I'd thought, but the "intent" of my Dad's pose was different than I'd thought until my Mom shed the proper light on it.

With my Dad being the most avid fisherman I'd ever known, it should have been the first thing I thought of. It was always about telling fishing tales, always about the one that got away. Even the basis of the novel Morning Son which I wrote in honour of my Dad, was all about a son trying to decipher his father's secret fishing mysteries. The whole novel is a quest surrounding a life of secret fishing holes. It was always about the fishing.

So how did I miss that?

Likely because I overlooked the obvious things right in front of me and, instead, implanted my own perspective on the picture, rather than looking at it the way it really was.

How many times in each day do we do that when in conversation with others, when looking at the world around us? How many times, instead of seeing it for the way it is, we see it in a specifically translated way, tinted by the things going on in our own minds?

I got the answer by listening to my Mom. By actually listening. Simple as that. So, how many times in our daily communications do those little things a person meant to express to us "get away" because we didn't do the simple thing like listen, or look, without applying our own interpretations?

I'm willing to bet that sometimes the "big ones" get away and we're lucky enough to realize it or pick up on them later, but more often than not, there are plenty of "little ones" that got away from us that we'll never ever realize.