Sometimes, life reminds you that it is good

See what they did there with their hands?

Smell the roses. Cloud watch. Appreciate the sounds of little children laughing and playing. Remember the Great Antonio pulling buses with his teeth. Fondly recall the Habs winning a Stanley Cup or two and how the Expos... no, that last one won't work.

You know what? Just go ahead and sing Louis Armstrong's "What a Wonderful World" for the next half an hour at the top of your lungs and enjoy life.

The universe offers up many things to make one smile, and this week, a good friend of mine, let's call him Hawn Oshara, went on vacation and got himself ENGAGED!

Congrats muchacho. No one deserves the happiness, giddiness, and the all-around amazing feeling of being in love and contemplating the years ahead with your partner. Yeah, I'm having a Hallmark moment, so sue me. Seeing your friends happy and fulfilled is one of those happy occurrences the cosmos throws one's way from time to time.

Health, happiness and peace be upon you and your lovely fiancée, Hawn.

30 Day Writing Challenge: Best Friend

I was reluctant to write on this topic for the 30 Day Writing Challenge because I did not and do not want to get all gushy. I have some great friends, close friends and it is hard to measure, or incorrect to measure how close you are to them in comparison to others. But I will start anyway with my newest best friend, my girlfriend. Shoot, I speak to her everyday. See her almost everyday. I guess I am lucky that we got close so fast. I mean, I guess she is lucky.

I've known my best friend Al for 32 years. We haven't been friends for that amount of time but close to it. Al gets invited to family gatherings. When he has family over I am there. His kids are like my own nephews and nieces.

And then there are my other best friends. The boys. Cheesy Mike, Andy, Peter, and Stuart. Two of them have fled to another city, three have a wife and kids, and the other has two blogs and a cat... All these things prevents us from hanging around as regularly as we used to. Oh, and jobs. Right. We work. That also gets in the way of fun.

What is that expression? Friends help you move. Great friends help you move the body.

Here's a test for you. Think about this. The answer may actually be nobody. But if you come up with a name, then that is telling in itself. Buddies stand shoulder to shoulder, through thick and thin. Some would lay down their lives for you. How many people do you know that you can trust with your life? One? Two? A few? Now, once you pondered that question, answer this, how many people can you trust with your money?

This is exactly what I picture when I think of my friends...

Mike and Nicky over at We Work for Cheese have forced invited us to participate in this 30 Day Creative Writing Challenge . Today is Day 8, the theme is Best Friend. Here are some of the other participants.

Ellie Belen   Linda M. Mike WJ Sandra   Shawn @ Stubborn Fool   Shoot Me Now Unfinished Person   Ziva Mike  Barb  Babs - beetle  Shawn @ Stubborn Fool  Linda M.  If I were God...  nonamedufus  Linda  Laughing Mom  Katherine UNDER PRESSURE!  Wendy  P.J.  Leeuna  thriftshopcommando  injaynesworld  NathanaelV  Malisa  MsDarkstar  

In Memory

People die. We cannot do anything to stop death. Medical science has enabled us to prolong life. I am not talking of eating better. I'm speaking in more general terms. I have tried to approach the topic of death more than once since I started my blog. I wrote about my uncle and aunt but beyond this was not able to put my thoughts together.

We do not dwell on death but, your own mortal existence comes into focus with shocking speed when someone your own ago dies. In senior year high school a classmate was killed in a car accident. Two years following graduation, a former classmate was shot by a police officer. A few years back my cousin, an Israeli army veteran, died on the operating table during what was supposed to be minor surgery. Two colleagues and friends died from cancer, Joel in 2002, Patrick, who was also a mentor, in 2006.

These events, when they happen, are eye opening and can shake you from an otherwise peaceful existence that we, for the most part take for granted.

An old friend, Ian, died last week. he was 43 years old. He died suddenly, leaving behind two children, a wife, a brother, parents and a lot of friends wondering why and how. As I write this I do not know the cause of death. the obituary reads "suddenly".

We all leave legacies and imprints. And as I ponder his loss I say, he left behind children as part of his legacy. At least that.

I've seen more, done more than most people I know. But those are the things you take with you to the grave. What do you leave behind? Family, children, teachings and memories. And then I think again to my own life and consider what my legacy will be. I am not done yet. Too many things to do. A wife, and a child are priorities. In small part, let this be added to your legacy... Derrick, Joel, Patrick, Ian.

New Year's Eve

Tanya at Tanya Says wrote a nostalgic piece on the New Year's celebration. I am not so sentimental. My most common memory of New Year's past, since about the age of twelve years old, consists of being sick in bed every other year. For some reason, for year upon year, the flu, a stomach virus, a sinus infection or something else would knock me on my ass a couple days before the festivities. I do not get sick often - December being the exception.

Happy New Year!

Three years ago I started getting the flu shot. So far so good. This year I came down with a cold at the early part of the month. And I can now see the finish line. I have to avoid sick people for a few more days and I will have made it to New Year's, unscathed.

New Year's is a reason or an excuse to celebrate. I don't have any emotional ties to the night. It used to be a requirement to go out and party as hard as possible. All I really need is two things. Friends and an alcoholic beverage or two.

New Year's is a time for celebration, a dawning of a new year, a cause to gather with friends and family, out with the old and in with the new. A time to air out old grievances, forget and move forward, a time to wash away the ills and wish for only the good. And what a better way to wash it away than with alcohol?

People keep asking me what am I doing for New Years. The correct question is where are you going for New Years. What am I doing is a forgone conclusion. I am drinking. Where am I drinking on New years? Not sure yet. I know what I will be drinking with friends. Where? Doesn't matter.

One time, about 10 or so years back, the clock struck midnight, everyone hugged and kissed. I called my parents to wish them a Happy New Year. Their response was, "Why are you calling?"

So maybe there is a reason I am not so sentimental for New Year's past.

Bonne Annee!

High School Reunion

I received the long expected invitation this week. The high school reunion. Twenty five years. Twenty five years! TWENTY FIVE YEARS! I am having trouble believing it. And I also realize it will be difficult to hide my age after revealing that I graduated 25 years ago.

I went to the 20 year reunion. I was curious and I had to go. I did not renew any old friendships. It was fun. I drank. I also remembered why I cut ties with everyone. 

Do I go again? Do I care? The first time I did not know what to expect. Now, I do.

I was a 16 year old when I graduated in 86. The 80s were an eclectic mix. The school was made up of so many social and cultural cliques. Punkers, mods, rockers, geeks, jocks, JAPS, Greeks. I wanted to see all the girls I was crushing on 20 years before. I wanted to see the guys I played basketball with. I wanted to see what happens to punkers when they grow up. A Mohawk with a receding hair line? Safety pins in their jeans bent and corroded from wear and tear?

I had this thought that the girls I was crushing on, the girls that came up to my shoulder in high school, now weigh more than I do, are taller than me, and lost more hair than I did.

I was curious to see the bball players.

How did the tall lean athletes get short and fat?

How can people from 25 years ago have such an impact on our lives today? More time has passed since graduation then the time we actually knew each other.

Fat people got skinny, skinny people got fat.

Do I look different? Changed? Sure. Do I care what people think of me? Hell no.

We know looks change. We forget that people change. I don’t mean just their looks. Are you not a different person now than 20 years ago?

Some old personality traits start coming out though. One old friend asked me if I was married. I told him no, not yet. He then made some derogatory comments towards my sexuality.

5 Years later I find out my tie was crooked.

I reminded him that I used to date his wife. The conversation ended there. But you see, I have matured. And here is proof. In the old days, I would have said, "I used to date your wife, and I still can any time I want to.”


Oddly enough, some of my favorite people, are those that I became friends with right after high school. We went to the same high school but as fate would have it, we became friends later. A couple of them even write a blog. 
Do I go to a class reunion to hang out with a handful of people and ignore another 100? Is it worth it? $100, open bar, food, music. Can I drink $100 worth of alcohol? Hell yeah. Do I want to with these people?


I don't have a moral, or a punchline to end with. Over the next month or two I will speak to friends. I will find out who is going. I am curious how many people go to their high school reunion. Does the class reunion mean that much to everyone? Does the reunion bring back good or bad memories?

Where Everyone Knows Your Name

When any of my friends ever said, let’s meet for coffee, nobody ever had to ask where. There has only been one place to go. Cafe Olimpico. For the last fifteen years or so, we’ve been going to the same coffee shop. This was the place to meet friends, read the paper, and hang out.

Over the years and depending on my schedule, I would go daily, weekly or monthly. Every time I went, I would see a familiar face or a friend.

The baristas know me. They know how I take my coffee.

At a certain point, I was going so often, I would not wait in line. I would not even order. I would walk in say hello and go sit down. Within a few minutes I would hear, ‘Shawn, your coffee is ready.’

If anyone ever did ask where we should go for coffee, it was met with chuckles, because there was only one place to go.

That is until this last weekend.

Please Excuse Jennifer Aniston's Overacting.

Slowly, one by one, my friends and extended friends are moving away from the old neighbourhood. They are spreading out in different directions on and off the island.

Last weekend, rather than just showing up at the coffee shop to meet a few of my closest friends, we had to make plans. A few text messages and a phone call or two were exchanged.

‘Coffee Saturday?’
‘OK. 9:30? Where?’
‘9:30. Premiere Moisson?’
‘OK.’

With all the Starbucks, Tim Horton’s and Second Cups in this city, and the rare cup of instant coffee, I am not a coffee snob. But I do know how I like my coffee. You can become adjusted to different surroundings, but you also have to adjust to a different taste of coffee. How do you tell the barista how to make your café latte when all they do is press a button?

It goes beyond a comfortable chair and a good cafe latte. We keep hearing talk of social networks, what about social capital? How much is it worth? I started thinking about this as more than changing coffee shops. It's an upheaval to a new neighbourhood, new surrounding, restaurants, new neighbours and potentially new friends.

I will save the sociological theories and analysis for another time. I realized the best way to discover the new neighbourhood was to walk around the area. Next I tried a search on Google maps.You may be surprised what you can find on Google.
If you have never tried it before, punch in your Postal or Zip code into Google Maps. Click on Search Nearby, and type in your desired search item, be it coffee shop or grocery store.

While I have discovered new restaurants and shops, I haven't found the new hangout yet. I do not know if I ever will. Not everything can be replaced. I will keep looking for that new home away from home.

My Friend Andy Had Sex

My friend Andy had sex. He did not tell me he had sex. He does not brag about having sex anymore. He told me that his wife is pregnant. She is due to give birth in December. I immediately started counting back nine months. Andy and his wife had sex in March.

My friend Pete told me that his wife is due in September. I congratulated him and pointed out that he had sex in December.

I do not think about them having sex. I do not picture them having sex. I know they had sex. Now, it is possible, and for their sakes likely, that this was not the only time they had sex. But I have no evidence of this aside from the claim of pregnancy. Therefore, and as far as I know, they had sex once.

None of my friends have ever come up to me and said, 'Hey, Ohara. My wife and I had sex quite frequently in the month of February and on one of those occasions I impregnated her."

No. They would simply say, "My wife is due in November."

Here is a little game. 
1- Write down your date of birth. 
2- Figure out how old you are. (The current year minus the date you were born.) 
3- Subtract nine months from that. 
4- The result? That is the approximate date your parents had sex.

I'm one of the last of my friends that is single, and looking. I do not have any children yet. I date. I have sex. But unlike in our teens I do not compare notes with the guys. I don't say to my friends, "I cooked a romantic dinner for her and we shared a bottle of wine. We had sex. It was fun. You should have been there."

At this point in our lives we do not advise our friends when we had sex. It's happened frequently enough over the last number of years that it isn't a surprise, and it is assumed. Something that we take for granted.

So my point perhaps, is just this. Let us no longer take it for granted.

So, the next time your friend, sister, mother or coworker tells you that they are pregnant, it is correct to respond in an accusatory tone, "You had sex."

From left to right:
 baby, stork.