Category Archives: health

At the end of 2011 I came up with the idea of making some income from writing poetry

Lost Lagoon, Stanley Park, Vancouver CANADA

211212x At the end of 2011 I came up with the idea of making some income from writing poetry. I wrote my first poem of my own behest in the second half of Grade 12 in 1966 when I was asked to write a descriptive essay. I thought, that was too boring and chose instead to write a descriptive poem about a big house covered in vines, using the Empress Hotel in Victoria BC as my inspiration. The teacher gave me an A-minus — because it wasn’t an essay. In the Spring of 1972 I wrote a letter to the editor of The Province newspaper in Vancouver and they published it. I also wrote a vignette. And then wrote another version. The first version was idealistic and the second “commercial.”

In June 1976 I started writing what I called songs. Only a couple of them had tunes, but they all started slow and came to a climax at the end. From 1976 to 1980, I wrote maybe 500 of those. Over the years I have had the habit of purging from time to time. I did that early 1976. Throughout high school and years after I would have projects, like designing a house and trying to build it out of balsa wood. I was going to weave a scarf for my Mom but after a short while I stopped. And some time later I threw it away because I didn’t like the colours I chose. 

I imagined buying a 100 square mile / 10 miles by 10 miles lot of land somewhere in Manitoba some day and designing my own country. I designed sextuplets, all the same with an interior courtyard. Elementary and high schools. A stadium dug into the ground so it would be easier, almost like ancient Greek theatres. In each corner of the lot, one square mile each would be for forestry, mining, farming and factories, and alternate. I designed a system of government with legislature, executive, courts, and boss (president). Moving sidewalks.

I stopped writing in 1980 but, in 1987 I think, a drop-in centre I attended decided to put out a quarterly newsletter. We had to decide on a name and I thought of Writer’s Cramp, and got one of us, a girl, to like it and it was accepted. In the Fall of 1986 I took a course in Borland Pascal computer programming, as coding was called at the time. But writing, I tried to get one or more piece I wrote put in each newsletter. We worked on it together. Cut and paste. Photocopying. Or printing I think it was at first. We went to a printer. Writing for that newsletter in its various guises went on until about 2005. After that the staff at the drop-in centre reserved putting out the newsletter for themselves. We could submit and have pieces “approved.” Never having it done that way before, at my first rejection I withdrew.

But as I mentioned above, I got the idea of writing for pay; writing books of poetry and vignettes which was my oeuvre. Sometimes I got a piece or two accepted by NSWA and RCLAS. And on September 20, 2012 I read in a café for the first time. I tried to continue doing that but my essays and poems were not seen as maybe good enough to read in front of everyone like that. For example, I had never done that before and I wasn’t good at it. I was by then in my 60s and had no like practice in school all those years ago. And my better subjects were math, physics and chemistry — so that is what I studied at UBC.

It was the Fall of 1966. You needed English 100 but the three books we had to read with assignments pertaining to them, well, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce, was so dry and boring. When I finished reading it the instructor said to us it was about religion. I didn’t notice that when I read it. I had no idea what she was talking about. I know that Ireland is Catholic, at least I think it is. And I was not the most religious person. I failed English 100 but passed the supplemental exam at the start of July 1967.

That did not stop my writing in the future. Early 1972 I thought to myself, I’m smart. I should be able to write, too. My marks in Math and Physics were 92 percent in Grade 12. I won the Math award for Grade 10 in our high school, algebra. I got 93 percent in Mathematics 100 at UBC. But that is what made me start writing. 1991 and 1992 I wrote my autobiography to that point. I got my first desktop in 1991. In 1994 I culled the self-indulgent parts and began to flesh it out. Only Chapter 3 about the period when I worked from 1968 to 1972 did I not cull. I thought, if I changed anything I would ruin it.

So, to date I a still writing extensively but nothing I can think of as publishable. But it is all there, so I can’t say I haven’t had any practice cum experience. Just not so much publishable it seems to others. I write endlessly almost every day. And my computer is full of the stuff. Ideas? I seem to have made a multitude of acquaintances. And I hope you enjoyed my little story herein. Thank you….. — And sincerely, George Chris Michas 

My First Homes [written 210521]

Photo: My firs home [3575 West 26th Avenue, Vancouver, B.C., CANADA]

There were five of them, 1947 — March 30, 1957:

  1. Upper St. Georges in North Vancouver, a basement suite
  2. 3575 West 26th Avenue, Vancouver, in Dunbar neighbourhood
  3. The Mays Road farmhouse in the Cowichan Valley.
  4. The White House in Chemainus, just inside town limits
  5. The Green House in Chemainus, less than a mile South, outside town limits

Then we moved to North Vancouver in Marlborough Heights, where Mom and Dad lived from March 31, 1957 to some time in 1995.

The basement suite was in a white house on a northeast corner on St. Georges above Rockland Street. Mom told me they had to live there after they were first married because there were few places to rent at that time after World War II. This was my first home but only inside Mom’s womb. Mom and Dad eloped and married on October 3, 1947 in Bellingham, Washington State, after picking up two men on the street to serve as witnesses. Mom told me they couldn’t live together at first for lack of rental apartments. And it was sometime in November they found that place.

My grandparents (we calle them Nannie and Grandpa) moved back to Vancouver not long after the end of the war. Grandpa wanted to go back to work again. But he had become hard of hearing and found he could not succeed. They had lived at 47th & Marguerite from the early 1920s till Uncle George joined up and went off to war. At that time they moved to Cobble Hill, a quaint neighbourhood in Cowichan Valley on Vancouver Island. That is where Grandpa received the notice of Uncle George’s citation for the Silver Cross. Uncle George had joined up on his birthday, October 30, 1942; and was killed in action on October 22, 1944, 8 days before his twentieth birthday. Their new house in Vancouver was at 3575 West 26th Avenue. It has recently become in a state of disrepair and sold by whoever was living there most recently. Mom had told me the address and I started walking by from time to time to take current pictures.

Some time in 1947 / 1948, when Grandpa had concluded he couldn’t return to work, he asked Uncle Don, Mom’s younger brother, what he wanted to do. And Uncle Don said, farming. So, Grandpa bought the 365-acre Mays Road farm, and Nannie, Grandpa, and Uncle Don moved into the farmhouse. And they offered the house in Dunbar to my Mom and Dad to stay in. I was born in Vancouver General Hospital July 3, 1948, 9 months to the day after Mom and Dad married… so Mom and Dad must have been living on West 26th by that time. There is a hospital in North Vancouver where I could have been born if Mom and Dad were still living in Upper St. Georges. They lived there for less than a year.

When I was about a year old, Dad became sick and had to miss one day of work. And his employer, Pappas Furs, did not pay him for that day. While he was supporting a wife and young child, me. That made Dad angry, so he quit. And Mom and Dad moved into the farmhouse with the others. Dad would help Uncle Don to some extent. But at the same time he tried his luck at real estate, selling houses. He has told me he didn’t sell one house in that time, mid-1949 to mid-1950.

Then Dad started working in the sawmill in Chemainus, eight miles North. And they moved into the white brick house just inside town limits. It was small. But it had two bedrooms, a living room, kitchen, and bathroom. Adequate cupboard space. And a laundry room under which was an oil-fuelled furnace. On the driveway on the North side of the house was an oil tank. Dad built a white picket fence around the yard. He built a garage for the car. Mom and Dad made a vegetable garden in the back yard. Across the picket fence on the South side, and therefore not in town limits, was an orchard. And I was not allowed to climb on the fence and thus on the apple tree on the other side. I have many photos Dad took of us and various relatives who visited from time to time when we lived there.

Meanwhile, Dad started to build the green house about a kilometre South. In 1954 I turned 6 and was about to start Grade 1 and we were able to move in Summer 1954. By that time Mom and Dad were expecting their fourth child and we needed more space. We needed the bigger house: 3 bedrooms, unfinished basement, kitchen, living / dining room, kitchen nook where we ate most usually all of our meals. Wood furnace in the basement, carport, outside deck. LARGE field, small wood. Dad started a henhouse for eggs, but then a friend at work in the mill suggested he apply for a job in head office in Vancouver. In 1956 he had won the lumber grading exam in B.C.; and he got the job. We moved to North Vancouver on the March 30 / 31 weekend, 1957 while I was in Grade 3. My first day of school, of course, was Monday, April 1. April Fool! Some Grade 6 boy had pointed down at my foot and said, your shoelace is untied.

We shall see if I add more biographical memoir as the future unfolds. ThanQ.

200602x Today is a New Day

You’ve probably noticed I don’t make too many posts here. I do that in Facebook. I use Facebook as though it is my blog. I will make long posts which I will also post in the form of a Note. Which Facebook makes available under “More” on my Homepage.

COVID-19 has kept me stuck at home since the beginning. After a point, I needed to get out and go for walks. It was hard to find washroom facilities so that cramped my style a little bit. But the panorama at the top of this Page was taken during one of those walks.

When COVID-19 started, I had a hard time believing it was true. There were things going on in the United States that seemed implausible. In Europe you were hearing about right wing radicals taking over the governments. And besides all the other weird things going on in the World (China, the Middle East), I thought the right wing government had taken over and COVID-19 was an excuse to make everybody stay indoors. And everybody had bought in and were actually eager participants. Until people started threatening to block me on Facebook if I didn’t “buy in” myself.

That was very awkward and difficult. It was the end of the World as I knew it. I could refer back to books like “1984” and “Brave New World” for predictive examples. I could refer back to innumerable apocalyptic books and movies that predicted a virus or some other agent taking over the world, infecting everybody, or not quite everybody, and there was a battle for survival by the uninfected few. Movies like “Terminator” seemed to have come true. It was no longer a free world in any sense at all.

And now we are still not allowed to gather in any great numbers. In the USA there are riots going on like you would read about in books and see in apocalyptic movies. And the president was threatening to call out the armed forces to put down what appeared to be the rebellion. As the common people were protesting over police brutality and murder.

I am getting old and long in the tooth. I wonder how much longer I will be able to hold out in this world and society. I can’t go see people. If I want to see people, I will have to learn the software. I have an opportunity this evening. I had my first opportunity yesterday and it was successful. The only thing was, the day before I had to figure out how to download the new version of the software we would use or it wouldn’t come off. Somehow I succeeded.

Sitting at home so much of the time, I am not as physically able any more. Even in the early days of the COVID-19, I knew that if I was cooped up for too long, I would die of weakness due to not getting any exercise in my usual form, long walks, rather than the COVID-19. I was not afraid of the COVID-19. I would either come down with it or I would not. It would be either serious and I might die or it might be mild. But if I got weak from inactivity and died that way, the point would be moot.

I will be 72 in 1 month and 1 day, July 3. I love music. I like to take photos on my walks (see above). I follow physics, cosmology and NASA, like the recent SpaceX launch of 2 Americans from American soil astronauts to the International Space Station (ISS). I follow archaeology and fossils and evolution. History and prehistory. Green issues to some extent, only it seems we are not taking these too seriously. Like one day we won’t have needed to address them in the first place or something. We are hoping technology comes along and does it for us, or something!

I write poetry. I am good at a number of things. Yet I haven’t worked for money since 1976. I get by, wth more difficulty as the years go by for more reasons than just lack of money. I used to get together with people in a number of settings. I used to go to the occasional “rock” show, about 2 a year. I am not happy with having to stay home to get most of my social interactions. I don’t want to stare at my computer endlessly for this. I am very sad. It is nice to use the new technology. Like it was something that was going to come along anyway and it has just happened now. Like we are using the bought into COVID-19 as the excuse to socialize in any manner at all. Like it was going to happen anyway, the COVID-19 imaginary, that it doesn’t exist at all, and the governments and the people are just using it to force everybody to buy into the new system, most of our interaction online. Because it was going to happen one day anyway. So we have made it “now”.

Of course, everybody who has lost people close to them, family or friends, to the COVID-19 are very extra sad right now because the COVID-19 has taken away a few more people than would normally have gone in any short time. Stay 2 meters apart. Practice social distancing. Wash your hands. Be safe. Be kind. And we shall get through this together.

Today is a new day. It’s a brave new world we face. I am sure we will get through it. Chin up, as they say. And I love you.

-George Chris Michas

I write all sorts of stuff

img_2010200117w Dear My Case Manager:

The reason I do not enjoy seeing The good doctor is that he does nothing for me. That can be good in some ways in that I am forced to figure it out for myself and do it on my own. And when I see him, I am shut up in a tiny room from which there is no escape if the good doctor decides to call the police on me. The same is of my appointments with my family doctor. He can call the front desk if he chooses, and get up and say he’ll be right back giving some excuse for leaving. It does not make me feel comfortable or relaxed. Any small excuse might be enough to call the police.

The following is something I posted on Facebook for my Friends a couple of days ago. The first couple of sentences were because I sent them by Messenger to a Friend. And that’s how the writing got started before I fleshed it out and posted the entire thing:

200116w I was so delighted to see you at UBC last Wednesday. You learned a bit about me. I am not good at conversation. I never have been. I have thought there is a missing connection in my brain or something since I was a teenager. Much as I try to determine the principles, subtleties and intricacies of conversation, I have been unable to make any headway “decrypting” [decyphering] them. Ever since I was in Grade 2, I expected to grow up, get married, and have kids. I have always worked toward that goal. Now I am starting to realize that if I had a child, there could be a 50-50 chance they had the same social skills as me. I have not worked for pay since 1976. I volunteered on and off since, the last time in 2009. As the minimum wage goes up again and again, me on fixed income will eventually starve to death. For 25 years since I moved in my present apartment in 1985, I always got by on $10 per day for food. Since the NDP got in, it is more like $20 or more. Having kids is a non sequitur or maybe the phrase is non-starter. I have plenty of schooling, 3 years university in engineering physics in a 5-year program. But I couldn’t continue. Despite some good marks I have gotten, in certain types of schooling I am not as good as in others. I am good at algebra but not at geometry. It is like the latter part is related to my inability to learn social skills. And why I have been unable to get a paying job in more than 40 years. I am fortunate. I live in subsidized housing and have some income. I do not have a car or a tv. I have a pair of shoes, a computer and a cell phone. They get me by. But for how much longer. I have been able to keep up with the technology to date. But I wonder for how much longer. It is just the way I am no matter how hard I try. I have limitations and I am not pleased about it. Of course, everybody has limitations, even the most successful. Will we one day live forever? Depends on your definition of forever. If the universe ends, will we be able to figure out how to go to another one. Maybe some will and some not. As at the gambling casino and on Wall Street, the house always wins. In the game of life, too, the house will always win, some day. See? I can think of some things, but not of others. We all have limitations like that. I am 71 and a half. Life goes on, for now.

Thank you, My Case Manager. Sincerely, George  

Dear George,
Thank you for the update and insights. Please take care of yourself.
Regards,
My Case Manager

200117 = ‘yymmdd’