Seed's & Euro Seed's Brain Candy

live love cherish

2012-01-07T11:45:00.000-08:00

d-3
nd-3
td-11
%-50
gd-2
190.2

Hot diggity this is a practice post!

2011-11-29T15:47:00.000-08:00

Searching for a Literary Agent/Publisher

2011-07-10T11:09:00.001-07:00

Dear Literary Agent/Publisher

My name is Lindsay Wincherauk. I am an author and storyteller working on completing three manuscripts chronicling my fascinating, hilarious, and at times, turbulent life.

In the truest sense of the word, I am survivor; over the past sixteen-years the unrelenting traumae sent my way, have not only been overwhelming, they have epitomized surreal as well.

The manuscripts connect the dots of an intriguing life, weaving an intricate tale; winding through my tumultuous past into the present and then the constant struggle to define the direction of the future.

My story is about survival. It is about finding identity. An identity shrouded in family deception. It is about coming to terms with watching my parents die only to have them come back to life eighteen years later, and then figuratively, watching my father die for a second time. It is about adding vibrant colours to the connected dots, revealing a brilliant canvas, and uncovering a compelling story. Most important, it is about sharing, being vulnerable and allowing others in.

Why are these books a good fit for a Literary/Agent/Publisher?

Many reasons spring to mind:

The books are a raw, emotional, hilarious, and a voyeuristic ride through an incredible life of a fresh new Canadian author.
I possess the unique gift of bringing the reader into my story---making them vital characters in the plotline.
My experiences, though extreme, share common threads with every reader. Whether it be finding first love, learning to drive, delving into the destructiveness of vice, overcoming massive hurdles, or trying to make sense of living while deciphering what's truly important.
My voice is powerful. I write in a conversational manner, allowing my voice to echo with the consumption of every twist and turn of life.
If forced to compare myself to other authors, a difficult task---I'd say my writing is a collision between Hunter S. Thompson meets Augusten Burroughs sprinkled with a dash of the Dalai Lama.
I have several publication credits: 24 Hours Vancouver (commuter newspaper with a circulation of 220,000); a self-published book entitled: Seed's Sketchy Relationship Theories – A Guide to the Perils of Dating (how not to become a bar regular), as well as articles published in various other magazines.

I believe I am a gifted individual with a never-ending stream of stories. I look forward to the opportunity to work the right Literary/Agent/Publisher to bring my stories to life.

Regards,

Lindsay Wincherauk

Author/Journalist

Postscript: I have designed potential covers for each book!

Lindsay Wincherauk

Russians, Clowns & Drag Queens

Play

chasing neon

CONTACT INFORMATION:

How it all began

In 2004, I was randomly selected to pitch a book idea at a Book Expo. I pitched the story of two-month period of my life from 2003. The audience was blown away and left wanting more. One of the publishers asked me to put together a few chapters of the story and submit it. I did. Unfortunately, the traumatic events weren't far enough behind me to tell the story without being overly dramatic. I was told that it wasn't what they were looking for at the time. Discouraged by the response I stopped writing the story; instead, I focused on writing articles for 24 Hours Vancouver
a commuter newspaper with a circulation of 220,000, as well as other writing projects.

One of those projects was entitled: Letters to Ed. I started writing bizarre complaint letters to eight randomly selected men from around North America named, Ed. Over the course of three-weeks, I cranked out three letters, letting my new friend in on mostly humorous stories from my journey through life. The letters were intended to be bizarre and comedic in nature, with little snippets from my past thrown in to add to the comedic value. I imagined Ed opening his mail, and at first, being confused, only to have that confusion turn into hilarious conversations with friends at the pub, club, or golf course---about the bizarre letters.

While penning letter 4: I drove a dead man to work,
a light went on: I realized I've had an amazing life. At times incredibly difficult; nevertheless, full of adventure, laughter, despair and heartache. Most important, I've developed a unique way of sharing my story. Ed represented new friendships. With each letter, depth was added by opening a window into my life.

The beauty of this: as my life unfolds before us, I take my new friend(s) into my past, and in turn, building true friendships. Eventually, Ed becomes everyone!

Lindsay Wincherauk, Author

Vancouver, BC, Canada

Email: theseedvan@hotmail.com

Reality is truly stranger than fiction!

1 Page Treatments

2011-07-10T11:06:00.001-07:00

Russians, Clowns & Drag Queens

letters to ed

(COMPLETED)

In the memoir, Russians, Clowns & Drag Queens, author Lindsay Wincherauk's life is turned upside down with a heartbeat pursuant to a civil servants casual inquiry, "Could you phone your parents and ask them who your real parents are?"

This innocent inquiry opens a window into a surreal Kafkaesque past, a past rife with bizarre characters, spectral entities and devastating family betrayal. Wincherauk, with radiant clarity invites the reader into his life. A life replete with tragedy immersed in hilarity and garnished with the intoxicating destructiveness of vice. Lindsay chronicles his remarkable journey through the window; a journey from darkness to light, a journey most people would find impossible, a journey through the "looking glass."

Wincherauk converts repeated traumae into a compelling search for identity. He layers the perpetually changing hessian of family, life, and dysfunction, utilizing long brush strokes dripping with passion. He bares his soul to great effect by placing his present positive world-view in juxtaposition to his prior emotional neediness.

Lindsay's wit is razor sharp, self deprecating and scandalously non-political correct. His ability to captivate the reader inviting them as intimate participants into an intricate plotline reveals a unique voice remarkably fresh and doubtlessly destined to become a household name.

Wincherauk's memoir transforms episodes of intense despair into segments of tranquility imbued with comedic insight. The pitfalls of dysfunction are eluded as life progresses, creating an intricate weave. Lindsay, a consummate storyteller layers panoramic strands of events into a kaleidoscopic tapestry. Ergo we wind our way through foundation, collapse, escape, rebirth and loose ending leading us to...

Play

a sequel

(COMPLETED)

In Russians Clowns & Drag Queens, Wincherauk relived his past when the realities of being a secret unwanted child are placed on his doorstep during a time of heartache and misfortune. In a sense, the truth set him free; destiny took him down a path where survival, destruction, and the search for identity became strange bedfellows, in a story told in real-time. The past was being unmasked employing stream of consciousness storytelling, making every reader a character in the plot.

Play picks up where Russians left off---Lindsay's, again-living mother abandons him for a second time---and he fatefully meets his real father, eighteen-years after he had watched his father die.

Unlike Russians, Clowns & Drag Queens in which the past was catching up with the present, in Play, the present is prevalent with the occasional glimpse backward in an attempt to find meaning in what has transpired.

Play, continues to unravel the mysteries hidden in family deception, with reality becoming a tragedy---necessary to overcome.

Colourful and tragic new characters are introduced and issues of sexuality are examined in the Chapters: Gay Bar, and Gay Bar: Episode 1: Bert Apocalypse Now.

Gay Bar resembles Cheers with a lilt---attitude---swagger---and a double snap!

A place where everybody most people won't hesitate putting a dagger in your back.

It's raining out and time to come in from the relentless mist: neon invites, seduces, and draws one in. On the edge of a bustling Gay Village, sits a non-descript bar. A bar full of energy and deception; its façade is inviting but underneath the warmth lays a multitude of characters; colourful, devious, kind-hearted, hateful, deep, shallow, lost, and mostly, draped in a façade themselves. Characters on the edge of reality, a reality skewed by alcohol and lifted by the illicit, including an ingredient list, mostly, sugar free.

The Chapter: William Richard Dowrey---Ritchie Rich explores and examines the consequences of senseless violence in an urban landscape. It ties numerous lives together after Ritchie, a father of two, becomes a victim of an alleged gay bashing in Vancouver's West End.

As Play winds down, after blasting through: go; next game; new plane; twist; integrity; and free play---evolving is amped up to a lightning pace; making sense of the nonsensical is dropped onto life's docket, highlighting the necessity of embracing life, finding balance, and accepting who you are.

And as we continue to live in the moment, we accelerate forth into...

chasing
neon

a sidequel

(IN PROGRESS)

Chasing Neon, volume three of the series, continues the journey. It is about searching for the future while coming to terms with life---best lived, moment-by-moment; five-year plans often don't come to fruition. We must be able to adjust course in a flash, when both good and bad, are thrust our way.

I've had a crush, can someone entering year 49 still have crushes.

Anyway, I have one, on a beautiful, in my eyes, individual, who works out at my gym. We've said hello on a couple of occasions---I'm not certain the crush is reciprocal, or safe.

Two beers into MY day, what the hell, safe or not, it's time to explore, to crack open the door. I stopped by the gym, Dave, a trainer, and a friend, needed to know it was my birthday so he could wish me a happy one.

After Dave, I headed downstairs for a sip of water, to my surprise, the apple, too corny... my interest; was there, "Hello, my name is Lindsay. I've wanted to introduce myself for quite some time now."

Our hands touched. Embarrassingly, I became hard. I had to sit down.

"My name is..."

"You have a beautiful smile" ---still sitting--- "I'd like to do something with you sometime?"

Days later: "Fiona, I got a woody when I said hello, what is that called? A priapism."

Wayne suggested, "Its called puberty."

After leaving the gym, it was off to see Danielle---and her two children. Danielle and I have a history, flashing back to Russians, Clowns and Drag Queens---we both dated her boyfriend Kevin at the same time---no priapisms for him.

Two hours of effortless flow---we don't want anything from each other---my day is looking forward. I've always wondered if Danielle and I...

Chasing Neon is about finding peace. It is about extending ones' arms spinning in circles and accepting who we are; then nurturing all who are important in our lives and dropping anger/hatred to replace them with kindness/love---it is about communication and connectivity and sharing the sentiment with whomever crosses our paths. Because if we speak to one another, judgement free, we'll come to the realization there is really no reason to hate.

The aftermath of: fuse; splice; amperage; chase; shine; and glow, bring to the forefront that chasing what may never be, at the expense of the brilliance of now... leading us to..?

Book Covers

2011-07-10T10:57:00.000-07:00

Ritchie's recovery

2011-03-08T12:44:00.000-08:00

Pigeons Aren't My Friends

2010-05-20T11:49:00.000-07:00

PIGEONS AREN'T MY FRIENDS

(a song)

Pigeon's aren't my friends

I don't like Pigeons

You are not a Pigeon

So you can be my friend

If you were a Pigeon

I'd have to bite your head off and kill you

Because you'd desrve to be headless and dead

But since you're not a Pigeon

You can keep your head

Pigeons aren't my friends

I don't like Pigeons

You are not a Pigeon

So you can keep your head.

Two

2010-05-18T18:47:00.001-07:00

One

2010-04-27T19:22:00.000-07:00

Colour Blind

2009-03-04T21:13:00.001-08:00

Colour Blind

I am lucky, I no longer see race; I've become colour blind.

Some believe no human is without prejudice; for most, probably --- but there are far more than can be imagined who haven't bought into hate or intolerance.

Part of the problem in today's world those with the least tolerance and fuelled with the most hate, whine the loudest; why, because they live in fear and screaming out at others is all they know.

For me, I'm lucky, I'm Caucasian; however, my heritage is questionable, because of a betrayal by my own family.

I'm lucky, because I've travelled much and partly due to naivety, I never allowed negative voices to affect me, even when intolerance was being directed my way. I concluded; if you don't know me, and you judge me, it's your problem, not mine.

I'm lucky, because my friends are just that, friends, regardless of race, religious proclivity, culture or any other affiliations they may have. I think it is important to treat all with kindness, a smile and a hello, if it is not returned --- don't take it personally.

I don't belong to any group or do I have any affiliation; I try to think for myself, which makes me immune to all those who try to convince me of stereotypes, when I know better. Each individual, regardless of heritage, is capable of warmth and kindness if they are treated with respect and are not bombarded by the hatred of the intolerant.

Most important, even if most think it is naïve; liberal, or whatever else, I'm lucky because I don't blame others for the things taking place in my life. It is amazing the brilliant things you experience when you accept others for who they are.

There are no giant conspiracies between the men/women of this planet, most are just trying to get by and be happy --- the true roots of evil are fuelled by GREED and the separation of class.

It is time for us all to wake up and realize this, it will make the world a richer place in spirit. It will give us all a fighting chance. If we don't clue in soon, well…

Unfortunately, many people can't see past the reflection in their own mirror and continue to blame anyone who doesn't look like them, for all the problems in their life and the world --- which is just plain sad.

We all need to pay attention, HUGE CORPORATIONS are being bailed-out while at the same time the rest of us regardless of race, culture or anything else, are still bickering amongst one another --- are we collectively too stunned to realize, this isn't the way it is supposed to be.

Lindsay Wincherauk is a Vancouver based author check out his website at www.seedenterprises.com

Dear Santa

2008-12-16T19:11:00.001-08:00

Dear Santa

Hello Jolly Bearded One!

Before I jump into my list of wants for Christmas, how the heck, are you, and Mrs. Claus?

Apparently, this whole climate thing, is kind of messing with your homeland, and putting some of your beautiful neighbours in peril, you know, the polar bears. It's amazing how many people are still fiercely debating what's transpiring, so, I guess as for wants go, could you find a way to sway the bickering, let those engaged in it, conclude; making changes for the betterment of the world, regardless of whether we've changed the weather, or not, is the right thing to do.

Thanks in advance...

As for me, I'm not quite ready to put in my request, I'm pretty-sure I've been a good boy man this year, in fact, I make a conscious effort to be one. It actually, comes easy, I'm not boasting, instead, I'm just happy with who I've become. Every now and then, I mess up, say something I don't really mean, or don't get back to someone quick enough; flaws... nah, life just seems to be cranking at a high rate of speed and periodically, we are caught in the revolutions. When I do, I try my best to make amends, without being too hard on myself.

Let's get back to me, actually, what I want is not about me at all, I don't really need much; the occasional hug, kiss, some love, and the odd intimate moment, that's about it. I have no need to go into details.

So, I guess what I'd like under my tree... Christmas cushion, I used to have an inflatable tree; however, my pet poked a hole in it, and that coupled with a huge dose of family dysfunction, I've never replaced it and have downsized to the cushion, it's not much, but the spirit of the season isn't lost in its fabric.

Okay, I'll stop rambling, and you won't need to come to my building, buzz my code, go to the elevator, knock on my door, eat a cookie or two, drink some milk, and place my request under...

...my request, of changing the direction of our world --- Santa, maybe you are isolated up at your melting pole, our world, well, it may have always been this way but it seems to be worsening. Instead of looking in the mirror, we seem to be full of hate, lack compassion, rage is replacing kindness, racist's announce their intent and then pretend that political correctness has made them the way they are, claiming if they could be hateful more out in the open, it would be a better way. How can we collectively be skewing the difference between right and wrong?

Globally, we've entered a very trying time, a time where a drastic paradigm shift might be in order. Our world leaders, the banks, warlords, and the messengers delivering the messages, may not have our best interests at heart; therefore, what I'd like from you, and I know this is a tall order; to help shift some views, even if it is one person at a time --- that way we can slowly make the world a kinder place. It's time that we evolve, it is imperative for our future.

As I go through my journey, hatred has been dropped from the equation --- it's not worth the effort. Greedy, I used to be, but not anymore, I don't need a lot of new; yet when it comes to style, I don't think I'm lacking. I fully expect insults for sharing these traits with others, that's okay, I'm not better than anyone; I'm just sharing.

Please help get out the word, we are all connected in some way; we don't have a choice in where we are born, the colour of our skin, religious proclivities, our sexual inclination, our height, physical beauty, birthright, or any other aspect of self, except for sculpting the essence from within our hearts, and that's it!

We don't have the right to judge others with the exception of what is done in our presence. Any other way, is for the most part, sickening, and sad, isn't it?

In the spirit of sharing more, for just over three months this year, an exchange student, from Korea, shared my home. We became great friends, and we've decided to stay in touch. My friend is now back in Seoul, studying in a world where direction is being subtracted from the youth of today at an alarming rate as the generations before; frankly, have fucked up the world. Mostly with greed, but sharing the stage, racism, hatred, intolerance and the constant bombardment by all of those who are filled with those diseases, trying to ram them down the throats of those encouraging a better way; in some archaic need to justify their hate. Again, it is time for us all to evolve and replace the hatred with love. Many won't... it's easier to stay stuck.

Well, back to my friend, and why I don't really need gifts, recently my friend sent me a message; he's sponsored an immigrant family in his home city of Seoul (from China), and several times a week he gets together with them and helps them gain a sense of belonging, he helps them to fit in, to feel safe. He also helps the children with their studies. He does this out of the kindness in his heart. In his message he carried it a step further, "I now know why you were so kind to me when I was in Vancouver, it's hard trying to find a place in a new world, especially when so many hate you for no reason, like Vancouver, many in my country are intolerant as well, it's wrong... it's time for us to change ways. That is what I took from you."

How could I need anything more than that for Christmas?

Just so you know, I didn't do anything other than be me.

So Santa... please continue to spread love, joy, hope, kindness and harmony this holiday season, help us put everything else to the side, one person at a time if necessary.

Merry Christmas/Seasons Greetings/Happy Holidays

The words in the greeting aren't important; what matters is the sincerity of the delivery.

P.S. Can you please get the media to stop spreading the fear of the capitalistic worlds unchecked economic meltdown, fuelled by unchecked greed, and further fuelled by evil, questionably, rising to the top.

I think what we are being sold right now is why it is vitally important for the rest of us to stop fighting amongst each other and for us all to work together to find a better way; 'cause, what we were sold, obviously hasn't worked.

Oh yeah, my father came back to life a few years ago, and he turned out not to be my father; could you tell me who my real father is --- a long story, maybe for some other time.

economic salvation

2008-12-13T09:40:00.001-08:00

economic salvation

Stop listening/watching/reading!

Could doing so stave off the constant bombardment of the economic meltdown?

You'd think the pace of living, our fascination with celebrities, athletes, Facebook, being connected at all times, and as seen recently, an ad for a digital service, "Fast forward live television; that way you can watch more TV faster." We need more television faster.

Suddenly, a light went on; a possible solution to surviving our economic meltdown; I was hoping the global populations collective ADD would suffice, and we'd have moved on to the next crisis; unfortunately, we all seem to be paying attention, a crippling amount of attention, as jobs are lost, savings vanish and giant corporations are being bailed out(?) --- With a quick glance, it seems, the corporate heads may be stuffing their own pockets with the drippings from the olive branches. While, us who are affected most, fight amongst one another about the information we are being force-fed, as we try to make sense of our futures.

Then, a second light came on; maybe we're supposed to be distracted, be in the dark. We all seem to be waiting to be saved; for some "expert" to shine a light out of the tunnel and lead us to... what's that, the bulb just burnt out?

I think we may need some new experts, after all the "old" ones seem to have gotten the "whole globe" into some quicksand and depending where you look/listen --- there may be no way out. Hell, walking down Wall/Bay Streets may soon require wearing a hardhat, as "experts" hurl themselves onto the broke crowds down below.

After I changed the bulb, I came up with a radical solution to curb, or maybe at least slow the melting; as said above, stop listening, stop watching; stop being sold. Simplify things, could there be a better time; the holidays are for family and friends, a brilliant starting point. Love replaces consumption, even if it is dysfunctional and only for a fleeting moment.

The suggestion: extend the fleeting moments!

Wouldn't it be dazzling if for one week in January, for all of us to stock up on food, take off work, fire up the DVD collection, pull out of the rat race, and not listen to the sales pitch, no radio, no television, no newspapers, no trips to the mall, and then make a pact/resolution, to place friends/family, ahead of stuff, in 2009.

Just imagine, if everyone stopped listening to what we are now being sold (economy in crisis), wouldn't the messenger need to find something different to talk about?

Don't mistake this suggestion for denial; I just think it may be time to change directions, collectively.

Dare to dream!

Lindsay is a Vancouver based author. For information visit www.seedenterprises.com

me be smart?

2008-12-03T12:50:00.001-08:00

...me used to be smarter... it used to be 138 --- 5 years ago!

and the lights...

2008-12-02T15:34:00.000-08:00

Time to put up the tree!

2008-12-02T11:05:00.000-08:00

We live in interesting times

2008-12-02T09:56:00.001-08:00

We live in interesting times

For the first time in history (according to CNN), the US Military is going to be actively deployed on US soil (4,700 troops initially, increased to 15,000 over time). The catalyst for such an action is the Terrorist attacks, which took place in Mumbai. The mask being hidden behind and sold to the populace: PROTECTION, we need to take such action to protect the American public from unscrupulous terrorists, biological warfare, and to aid during the aftermath of natural disasters. The report went on to include; in no way will the troops be used for civil disobedience or to police American citizens, the report was quick, and kind of a gentle afterthought in their programming schedule.

For those who shout out at others, often calling them the "Tin Foil Hat Conspiracy Theorists" --- maybe the ones they attempt to discredit, aren't so crazy after all.

Something stinks here, something about Mumbai, the economy, the timing of... everything. News reports of potential strikes against the New York Subway system in the next month... and BOOM, a terrorist strike in India; fear stoked and we all continue not so merrily on.

Backtrack to the economy; one day, fine, within a matter of what seemed to be only minutes, total collapse, with the population of the First World facing a total financial meltdown, losing... again, virtually, everything. Thank God, we live in a near virtual world; thanks to Facebook, Craigslist, MSN, and the lists go on and on...

Unlike our money supply, this is not make believe, this plan is taking shape as you read this, and we're supposed to believe that it has been formulated in the past week. Again, do you actually believe what is being sold?

Moments later Hilary Clinton speaks, she talks about the challenges ahead for all of us "Globally" and she stresses the necessity of "Global" support for the world to move forward, both peacefully and to stave off further economic catastrophe. After all, hasn't the "Globally" encouraged un-tethered Capitalist model, if we are to believe the messenger, just imploded, leaving the dwindling (near-extinct) middle class grasping for something to hold onto?

That brings us to Craigslist Rants & Raves, and those dubbed the "Tin Foil Hat Conspiracy Theorists." First up, CL; actually, the "TFHCT's, perhaps the delivery of their message, for the most part lacks refinement, and taking it a step further, continually calling people "Sheeple" or "Sheep," and shouting out over and over, we're screwed, and the such, is counterproductive... and serves little or no purpose, except to stoke more fear and anxiety. But, at least they are passionate about the message they are trying to convey, and if you take the time to view and critically think about some of the material they continually attempt to pound down our throats, you may form some opinions and draw some conclusions of your own on what the future (very near future) may have in store, and realize there may be some merit to portions of what is being shared.

Take money for instance, for examples sake, in the beginning, $1 real dollar was created and there were only a handful of workers chasing that dollar, each caught a portion; the meek maybe comprising one of the handful --- he/she tumbled to the bottom of society, only to be shunned, perhaps becoming addled with addiction as hope is stripped away.

As time went on, the handful of people we're given a taste of consumption, and they liked it, but to consume they needed more $s, thus, enter the banks; with loans and credit cards, corporations wanted in the game so they created ways for the people to buy on credit --- for a price (interest was created). So borrow and consume, borrow and consume, shower, rinse and repeat at absurdum; as long as you worked hard, the euphoria of consumption was the drug of choice... so we continued to work, work, work, and work...

Some climbed, while the ones falling began to increase slowly at first, more dramatically as time goes on. The fuel heating the fall, interest, interest, parking tickets, fines, processing fees, taxes, interest, more interest and more interest on top of the interest if you happen to be late with your interest payments, all of it, "make believe" money needing to be repaid to those at the top by the masses trying to climb. The problem, for examples sake again, is there still is only $1 real dollar in circulation and now it has to repay trillions and trillions of "make believe dollars" to those at the top of the food chain.

So, what happens, by default, middle becomes lower, if it can sustain that at all, hordes of hard-working individuals fall to the bottom rungs of society, drug usage becomes rampant in the depths of despair, all the while the rich hide up in the hills and behind gated communities because those who were fortunate enough to be far north on the social ladders of life, can't help but get richer, mostly only by default as well.

Then as our model is forced upon the rest of the world, by corporate juggernauts and the puppet regimes who act as our Overlords --- Coca Cola, McDonald's, to an extent; massive military based companies, information services, and the such, more prevalently; however, the easily identifiable brands representing our way of life (I'm sipping on a coke right now) strategically position themselves globally, and quickly strip away cultural identity in a homogenized world.

A good thing, a bad thing... the jury is out.

From surfing through dysfunction it is hard not to draw a conclusion that what is transpiring before our eyes is not orchestrated, not to give credit to the TFHCTs, yet it is becoming increasingly difficult to discount merit in some of their points, even if they don't take the time to write them themselves; instead risking becoming nothing more than deplorable fear-mongers.

As we move forward and our homogenized friends buy in, on credit, like we did, more interest is created, while at the same time "real" virtually remains at $1; however, it's no longer a handful who are chasing a piece of the pie, it's millions, literally stacked upon millions as our cities shoot skyward. And as the climb gets harder and harder, more and more collapse from the unbearable weight of "make believe."

So what do we do, we bail out those at the top, and at the same time tell those spiralling downward, "tighten your belts, because things are going to get tough for quite some time."

That begs the question: how do we get to the top?

I wish there was an easy answer; I don't think there is, the door is being slammed shut and most are being left out... this is happening in the blink of an eye; we just seem to be to distracted by celebrity, athletes, racism and hatred which is meant to divide us, more celebrity, athletes, unrelenting peril and trauma. Bus crashes, van collisions, if we can't find it at home, in our neighbourhoods, we suss out stories from around the world, and we drink it in and then regurgitate it to everyone we meet without giving it a second thought.

We're sick and we're constantly being fed the vaccine, which is only controlling our minds and making us all pliable, broken and accepting of what ever may in store for us.

That is where the good side of TFHCTs comes in, they/he/she is encouraging in a somewhat odd way, opening your/our eyes; and at least considering the possibility of some unpleasant scenarios. With eyes open there may actually be a slim possibility of altering the course of things to come, because if they are right, what is coming, if unchallenged, will manipulate us into NEW, by dividing us, when we are truly one, and pitting us against each other while those at the top, continue to reap the rewards.

That's where Craigslist comes in; freedom of speech is a brilliant thing, to a point. If it is to encourage discussion, and the search for solutions for a better way, it's brilliant! Unfortunately, on CL, for the most part, it comes across as juvenile, and it illustrates why we're in the situation we are today. I know, I know, it's only CL Rants & Raves, I do know that; however, not everyone on here fits the juvenile description (they just seem to dominate the posts) --- ranting endlessly about race, sexuality, and being relentless in the hatred for others, well, if your sentiments are that deeply ingrained, the world you live in must be a sad one and in no way are you a part of the future.

So where does that bring us, I don't know, I do think it is time for us all to realize what is currently transpiring in our amazing world has very little to do with race, argue if you must, and without question, the unbreakable racists will. Racism, and hatred, is easy, if the TFHCTs are right in any way, those who are saddled with hate, are simply pawns and I think the real "Sheep" who are being drawn out of their comfort zones, the problem, unbreakable, is a dying breed, and unfortunately, they have a tendency to whine the loudest.

Anyway, what's transpiring, if you look is about class, it's about rich and poor. Rich wants to hold on tightly and they need the poor to continue to fight amongst themselves, be distracted by accidents, gang activity, terrorists, athletes, and Amy Winehouse.

Thankfully, one upside of technology, again except for the deep-blooded haters, Globalization is removing many of the once easy to pick enemies as people from all over the globe are eating McDonald's, drinking at Starbucks, and shopping at the Gap, and unless you are stunned, that translates into most are no different than you or me.

So, the point of this RAVE, I think it is vitally important at this stage of our evolution to be aware, and without question, resist, peacefully of course, some of the things we're about to be sold told. It's as simple as looking and asking a few questions:

Why would the leader of the most powerful(?) nation in the world knowingly bankrupt his own country?
Why are companies who've duped the populace and mislead them down a horrible path, being bailed out?
Who are the ghosts and goblins we are chasing; they don't have a homeland, and virtually are invisible, except to the lazy (racists) who can't see past colour and see the true essence of the human spirit?
Who benefits the most from ongoing conflict? Which happens to be harder to convince the educated of, as like said above; with the exception of a few pockets of the globe, a populace that is all consuming McDonald's, Starbucks... get it, we are all the same, and we're just trying to get by and to feed our families; the enemy is not colour, again, it's class.
Why deploy troops on North American soil; for things we can't see, biological warfare, natural disasters, and terrorists (hiding in caves) that we cannot see or find?

That brings us back to Mumbai, something just doesn't seem right. Terrorists, as we are led to believe, have zero regard for human life, including their own. Makes one wonder, just a bit, doesn't it?

Terrorist, show up on boats, go on a killing rampage; none of them on suicide missions; but if something isn't missing, were they not expecting to escape?

Enlighten me if I'm missing something.

This crew of evil, though well orchestrated... well, something is off... NYC terror threats, and instantly, activity elsewhere in the world --- NYC terror threats; the deployment of troops on US soil, for the safety of Americans; just to beg the question, could the "Terrorists" possibly have been funded and just doing their jobs?

Winding this all down, crazy or not, I believe it is time for all of us to once again say "Hello" to and get to know our neighbours, regardless of who they may be, if they don't return the gesture, don't sweat it, and then rise above some ridiculous need to paint them with a narrow-minded brush.

I think it is time we eliminated some of the division we are manipulated into participating in, and let the powers-that-be know, we don't have much more to give and our tolerance for the deception is waning.

Just think, actually imagine, when the North American Dream began, there were only a "handful" (slight exaggeration) of people settling the new frontier, these first comers staked claim to the land, and feverish consumption was set in motion as we bought into the propaganda. "Get rich off real estate." As we proceeded many did, but still mostly those who were first. As "make believe" multiplied at alarming rates and "real" remained for the most part, constant, many fell, lost everything, homes were boarded up, and vultures lined up to get rich of those who could not catch up to "real" any longer; all while those at the very top watched and manipulated more.

Where we are now, the vultures are falling too (Google Stockton California 75% of the homes have been foreclosed on), without the vultures to buy the new stock of despair, these homes remain boarded up; what does that tell you?

And how many people need to lose everything before they need to be controlled, as actions turn desperate?

What would you do if you couldn't feed your family; or lost your home to greed, not culture?

As the vultures disappear, the homes revert back to the bankers, who with a little research you'll find they lead back to the first to stake claim to the land of the new world. Just imagine, if you are lucky enough to share the bloodlines with those who came first, you're probably living up on a hill looking down on the minions below (few exceptions exist); however, if you are baby 6,800,000,000 and you happen to be a crack baby; good luck staking your plot, as in today's world living in the "air" costs...

How can a civilization be civilized, pretend to care about the less fortunate, and try to stomp out homelessness, if residential "real" estate, is for profit?

Therefore, as much as the message of the "TFHCTs" may be lost in the term "Sheeple" and the delivery --- we may not be able to change what's in store, screw that, awareness and correctly identifying the "real" threat gives us power over the messenger.

Last thought, crazy or not, a simple way to stem the global economic meltdown; is if everyone in the developed world defaulted on all interest bearing loans, credit cards, etc, etc --- at the same time. If we were able to send such a powerful message, "make believe" would evaporate and collectively we could start capitalism over again, this time with eyes wide-open.

And more importantly, by valuing people more than stuff!

amping up creativity

2008-11-29T10:22:00.001-08:00

amping up creativity

A wise man once said, "A creative mind which allows itself, to wane in misery, will only survive if it accepts its essence and proceeds."

What that means, I'm not entirely sure, who the wise man was, don't know that either; all I do no for certain; I've waned somewhat, which like, entirely sure, waning, isn't, entirely true.

Regardless of the perceived waning, which by the way is a bit of a fallacy, I've actually pitched numerous article ideas to my editor; as always, on my perceptions of a world I see in some state of dysfunction, to which I am usually greeted with, "Great articles, I agree with most of what you see; can't publish them though. You're dangerous."

OPTIONS

Stop looking.

Rats, not capable of doing so; therefore, who the frig cares if I'm published in the manipulative mainstream; I've decided to share my future articles with the one or two people who stumble across this site.

Thus, reader(s), prepare for a plethora of activity...

Enjoy!

modern day robin hoods’

2008-11-29T09:47:00.001-08:00

modern day robin hoods'
by: lindsay wincherauk

"Boom" goes the economy... jobs are lost, stores close, and construction halts, leaving partially built buildings dotting the skyline as the fat starts coming off our over-binged cities (Olympic developments excluded).

What created this mess, and more importantly: who/how are we going to dig our way out?

What created? ...we bought everything we've been sold; and we did it on credit, and now, those at the top want their money while we still have some left.

Fortunately, for us, someone is watching out for those struggling to climb life's economic ladder.

Enter Translink, a hard working man (labourer), who happens to be building the shiny glass towers, is forced to take transit. He can barely feed his family, and without question, he can never afford to live in the buildings he constructs, a travesty. Not to worry, Robin will come to the rescue.

"Can I see your ticket sir; you only bought a one-zone and you're travelling two..." CA-CHING --- "that'll be $173," payable to the executive who's making two-hundred-fifty-thousand per year; thanks Robin.

Hell, maybe that wasn't the real Robin; maybe he/she is hanging out at the banks or the credit card companies --- they've always been good to the commoners, haven't they? If I leave my money alone, the banks will give me interest, and the cc's will allow me to keep buying the "stuff" that brings me to a state of euphoria.

Wait a second, my new flat-screen television gave me a hit of pleasure and a whole whack of distraction, but now they want their money back, and if I don't give it to them promptly my $1000-TV ends up being three times that amount, fortunately again, I'm making interest on my savings (insert laughter). I better go to the ATM and make a withdrawal... I have some bills to pay, "...sorry sir/madam, your balance is less than a $1000 so we have to charge you a fee with each withdrawal, on the upside; you did make a nickels interest last month.

Great, a nickel, that'll feed the family! Can we ask one question: who gets the money from my service charges, and the interest from my now worthless used-TV?

Damn, another false Robin; and besides, where are the new "real" dollars we need to support the "make believe" (interest/fines) ones?

"Shhh... they don't really exist; and besides, we put them in the accounts of those who never need to use their ATMs."

In the meantime, the rest of us are all chasing the one "real" dollar in existence; the problem: for every "make believe" one created, "real" becomes harder for those at the bottom to catch.

And we pretend to care about the homeless.

155 revisited

2008-09-27T08:48:00.001-07:00

Fitness Challenge/155 revisited:
this time it's personal!

Welcome back!

That sentiment is directed at me... it's about time I returned, this time to an unusual extent! Won't you come along with me as I whip my already somewhat fit physique into the land of...?

Anyway, 155 has returned, this time, there are other participants who've joined in; we're individuals inspiring for the greater good... from September 14^th, 2008 until the last day of the year we're embarking on a journey to the land of never ending happiness, a land where you can always see the sun...

"Stop it."

Anyway (squared), here's a link to my progress, you're welcome to have a look-see!

Don't let the picture disturb you… in fact the picture is telling a bit of a fib, that's more like 175.

What does 155 represent… you ask?

Well, other than being one fine sexy damn number; a one, followed closely by a couple of fives what's more sexy than that?

"247, c'mon, please!"

One: the beginning --- five: half way there --- another five: a pause to enjoy making it that far... shall I continue?

"No"

You're right… I'm not making sense.

Anyway, perhaps one of my favourite words, or is it perhaps, anyway, let's get back to the picture, that sure is one gigantic five, it would have to be, wouldn't it?

Why include this picture?

"Vanity...!"

That's a reasonable assumption, but it is only partially correct; I guess the reason to include it takes on a whole array of reasons. To begin with, it's a way to destroy my political/public life before it even gets off the ground.

"You have a political/public life?"

"No."

To continue, if anyone is going to sabotage, me, it may as well be me, I'll let you in on a little secret, I shower, most of the time in the nude. Luckily, for the meeker members of society, when the picture of me showering was snapped, a giant embossed 155 just so happened to be hovering in front of me, and my, delectable package! How do I know it's delectable?

Studies have been done... sometimes quick, other times, long slow, pleasurable and...

...and the end result of the studies: that would be their findings: pleasure was had by all. On occasion out of deep rooted conservatism, feelings of guilt would ensue, draping me in a dirty feeling, a feeling which would lead to a need to find a connection, after the connection was broken, if you understand my gist. Once and a while a towel would be summonsed from the towel holding area --- sometimes the towel could wait!

You know what they I say:

If it ends with a towel---it's not love!

All towelled off after my... shower, just a second, not only were the meek blessed by the ginourmous 155 --- my hand also acts as a barrier of protection for those who are not so blessed, enabling them to keep their fragile egos in tact.

"You about done...?"

I am, the moral/point of my 155 rambling, firstly, I enjoy the odd ramble. Secondly, I like showering, in the nude. Thirdly, who cares if the odd picture with a touch of nudity surfaces, it's 2008 people, we need to lighten up, showering naked, pictures being taken, is no big deal... those who live in glass houses should not cast stones; or something like that... Finally, for now, I'm living my life; you're invited along for this portion of the journey. Hell you can participate if you so desire. This portion is about challenging oneself, to fire myself into frenzy; encourage my friends, and to be a test study illustrating anything is possible if you get a handle on where you've been; where you are; and an idea of where you want to go.

With that in mind, follow me, actually, follow yourself, you can use me as a guideline, my friends too, if you like. Along the way remember to take deep breaths, pause, and enjoy, where you want to go isn't as important as enjoying the brilliant moments along the way; even the naked ones; especially: the naked ones...!

You're not a prude are you?

If you are, life must suck for you.

Note: the original challenge was entitled: 155... It has been changed; it is now 160...

That's all for now, now get over here, towel me off, and enjoy your visit.

To track my progress visit:

http://www.gyminee.com/locker_room/theseed

A sampling of my first day in public office

Interviewer:

Some disturbing pictures of you have surfaced where you are naked in a shower... do you think these pictures will be detrimental as you try to move forward?

Me:

Are you stupid? I shower most days, 99.9% of the time in the nude. There was once... Would you like to shower with me some time? I don't so much want to with you, but if it will ease your concerns... cleanliness after all is next to...

Interviewer:

There are story's that you've had relations with... and counting?

Me:

Have you ever had sex? I have, sometimes I feel guilty afterward, most of the time I don't. It's never malicious, it's just part of being human and it is nobody's business, but mine, and the umpteen partners, who have shared Chi with me.

Interviewer:

Chi...?

Me:

You don't like the imagery of Chi... It's just Chi, it washes away with a damp towel. I'm tired of this interview, so let's cut to the chase; I've done many things in my life. I've been drunk; woken up in precarious positions, had relations with love being absent, when it's present, spectacular! Life is far too complicated and short to try to condemn someone for living it... we're nearing the 7-billion mark on this rock and if you think because a naked picture surfaces or rumours of sexual activity come to the forefront, it makes an individual's core fragile, you'd be wrong!

Life is meant to be lived!

That's why it is called life... if a person is rotten at the core, they'll always be that way: sex, nudity, the occasional drink on a drunken night, some dalliances on the dark side, is not part of the core. Unless they are shrouded in maliciousness and deceit --- and to all those who try to disrobe someone for living life to the fullest, you're simply, lazy. This story is about fitness, a vital part of life, but it is much more than that... it's also about discovery, and what I've discovered is simple, two aspects of life matter: being consistent and more important, being a decent human being. If you nail those two... the rest will fall into place as destiny leads us to where we need to go...

So, go out have sex, shower naked, and if someone gets there panties in a bunch cause they see your naughty bits, screw them, only literally of course.

Mr. Interviewer, I have skeletons, but they're not of the shameful variety, if talking about them will make you feel better about your own life... then what's your next question? Off the record, if that is okay with you?

I'm sure some day a picture will surface sans the giant 155!

What a lucky day that will be!

The quest for happiness and positive change

2008-07-02T20:43:00.001-07:00

This article was written in November 2007… does it still wring true?

The quest for happiness and positive change

What's bugging you?

TALK RADIO! That's what bugs me.

More precisely, sports talk.

Who cares if an athlete plays harder, skates faster, etcetera… it's just sports, and at the end of the day, shouldn't we be more concerned with the perils of the planet and the rate of extinction that we're all facing today?

Sports, celebrity, and unchecked capitalism, although natural to man, isn't to Mother Nature, and unfortunately, we're too distracted to see what may be heading our way. A recent headline: EXPERTS SAY THE NUMBERS OF GEESE ARE A PROBLEM AND IT IS NECESSARY TO DO A CULL.

Mother Nature says: A GLOBAL POPULATION OF 7... 8... 9 BILLION IS FAR TOO TAXING ON ME, THEREFORE, CULL, CULL…

But we're humans, we're above all other creatures, we're logical…

True, but we're logically working towards extinction and we're even using catch phrases to make it sexy: CARBON FOOTPRINT --- SHOCK & AWE.

We dump millions of gallons of water on fires trying to save million dollar homes, while at the same time Atlanta is running dry and will soon become uninhabitable?

Apparently, without water ---- living gets tougher.

We've placed homes above people, why?

Because the fires are far sexier than a drought --- and sexier sells.

Isn't it time to impact positive change… but how?

By embracing life, the good and the bad parts ---- as hard as that may be to do. If we focus on ourselves, instead of the big picture, we may have a chance. Or are we too envious and distracted by celebrities?

Isn't envy at the root of our problems?

Envy creates: wants, which creates: artificial need, which creates: competition, which in-turn creates: the number one element of our destruction: unchecked radical religious factions greed, resulting in a widening gap between the rich and poor. We've become extensions of marketing campaigns. We've become walking talking billboards

Don't believe it?

Listen carefully…

"I love your shirt." Where'd you get it?" "You must go to… it's fabulous." "How much did you get that for?" "Buy, buy, buy…"

My challenge to you: stop the envy parade and focus on: I love you; I care about… just for one day… bet you can't!

We've been ushered, in my opinion, down the wrong paths for a long time. For the most part we've bought into the distractions of celebrity/athletes --- causing us to spiral upward in the quest for wealth and spiral downward in the destruction of our souls.

Isn't it time to resist the conditioning?

One last thought: embrace life, live it, and be good to others. All others, cause if Atlanta is out of water… others may be migrating to your neighborhood soon, on a global scale…

Craigslist: a breeding ground of hate?

2008-06-30T10:57:00.001-07:00

Craigslist: a breeding ground of hate?

I've been visiting Craigslist Rants & Raves for the past few months to put a finger on the pulse of Lower Mainland. For the most part: it's horrific.

R & Rs appears to be a breeding ground for racism, intolerance and hatred. And frankly, it's disgusting. Currently the world is facing a host of problems which may be catastrophic. The list is long: rising gas/food prices, unrest in the Middle East, the growing thirst for consumption as the developing world becomes Westernized.

Look more and we have: Climate Change, threats of terrorism, more intolerance, a looming water crisis, the eroding of the middle class, and our collapsing infrastructure.

Walk through the DTES and what do you see?

It used to be mostly despair, a place where hope had been erased and all that was left, the shattered pieces of the living dead.

Present day: the despair is still there, the last breaths of fleeting hope still resonate loudly; however, a different episode is playing on life's canvas. Shiny glass towers are rising from where overdose once lay. Opulence is replacing the gutter. Rich is mixing with and then replacing poor. Go today and visit again tomorrow --- the change is occurring in the flash of an eye. If you look close enough the tragedy of life is ever present… it's just being crushed by rebar and concrete. And frankly, I don't think we care. The Olympics are coming: we'll get back to the heartache in a few years.

Politicians sing the right words every now and then, but the words are ephemeral, as the voters are struggling to make ends meat and are thus distracted, feeding and clothing family is priority one, saving the world, let's just say: a tad bit overwhelming for the Lee's, Singh's, and Smith's.

Meanwhile Craigslist's Rants & Raves: is a place where some choose to propagate limited views for the whole world to see. Hatred is the main entrée on the menu. Blaming others seems to be part of the plot. Focusing on different shades replaces pressing realities.

These individuals seem to be too limited in their ways of thinking to understand the degrees of human separation may lead to the same place. There is no superior civilization; there is only superior individual ways of thinking. If we keep promoting division based on anything other than good & evil, we fail. If we continue walking the plank: collectively, the fall will annihilate hope --- fatal if those above you squash you with rebar and concrete.

Racism = paranoia.

We are all connected: the crack baby, produce worker, the Barista, and the CEO. If we can't grasp a hold of that concept it doesn't bode well for the generations to come.

NEWS FLASH

2008-01-12T09:11:00.000-08:00

breaking news flash!

As two-double-ot-eight blasts upon us, promising to be an eventful year which leans more toward pleasure than pain... resolutions registered and smiles have been requested more so than frowns.

Laughter a required necessity!

A trip to the grocer after having a few pops at local watering hole resulted in a valuable life lesson:

Don't buy clumping cat litter when it's pouring rain and you have to walk 10 blocks to get home!

At least the chicken didn't clump!

Mmm... tasty poultry.

Meanwhile, back at the grocer, lined up for purchase, my turn... it was a long wait. A quick glance around, 7-checkouts, all lined up 10-deep, at least, and it is impossible not to notice a recurring theme:

"Good day, sir. How are you?"

"Well, I was fine, until... until... I noticed something."

"What?"

"Look around... pretty busy, right?... Do you see it? Including the staff, not a single person in this store is smiling, or for that matter, even look like they're happy. Not one. Everyone looks pained."

Laughter is a required necessity!

That's not the first time I've noticed this trend...

In that moment I realized how important comedy is!

As for the news flash, much like a new church on Monday, 8 days into the year, number 17 can be stroked off my list!

Don't worry, the proper post accomplishment procedures were taken. The hazmat team wasn't required.

Now back to your day!

Wait, before you go I'd like to leave you one thought for your wisdom chest:

It's not love if it ends with a towel!

talking with deutchland

2008-01-06T10:32:00.000-08:00

talking with deutchland
by: seed & euro seed

Cutting edge: most advanced stage: the most advanced and modern stage of something.

That’s what we try to be, not only cutting edge, but innovative and educational at the same time. Not only do we open the door and let you in on some of our inner most feelings --- we also offer much more, we try to give our loyal “reader” some relevant information about the world, hence the educational portion of our site. We’ve concluded: blogging is about much more than talking about what “I” did and who “I” did stuff with and which movie “I” saw, where “I” ate, who “I” like, basically “I” “I” “I” “I” is a tad self absorbed. Life is much bigger than “I”.

You know what they say: There is no “I” in mutual orgasm. That is what we are here to provide you with, many mutual delectable taught out of this world orgasms. Either that or just a little bit of fun that whisks you away from the mundane and deposits you firmly in the land of ah.

What that means: I’m not entirely sure, I’m just glad the computer screen is not friable or after digesting my dancing words, you may crumple, crumple, pulverize and chuck, swish, right into the waste basket. Nice shot! Too bad about your monitor.

“What the fuck are you trying to say?”

Nothing really, just practicing my typing skills… nah… that’s not it, what I’m trying to relay to you: we believe, wait for it, wait… that life is much bigger than “eye,” and after sipping beers and listening to countless people drone on about their lives, I’ve noticed a common trend, most, not all, can’t get past “eye,” not necessarily a bad thing, however, in my, maybe our (haven’t corresponded with euro seed on that statement yet) opinion: unless “eye” has something much bigger than self attached to it, something that makes the world just a wee bit better, sweeter, more bearable, funnier, sexier, hotter, maybe not hotter as we’re trying to cool the planet now, so I’ve been told, basically, something that teaches us something, “eye” can be pretty fucking boring.

“I got this on sale today.” “I ate a sandwich today.” “I’m thirsty.” “I’m going for a walk.” “I’m stepping outside for a smoke.” “I’m…” You’re one dull…

“Be nice seed.”

Okay, you’re riveting, an amazing conversationalist, do you think that while you’re on your walk smoking your cigarette, that you could, um, maybe, um, develop a personality and try not to be so fucking boring? Well could you?

What’s that, you’re pissed that they are thinking of giving the homeless rooms that are just over 200 sq ft. You think they don’t deserve that much space? Nobody ever gave you anything like that for free. And now your is mission trying to find things that others receive that you never got for yourself and bringing it to everyone’s attention when your not talking about “you,” I’m supposed to be nice, so…

-the above depicts numerous conversations with a professional who believes he's hard done by.

Anyway, we cut the edge at a slightly different angle, sure we share a heaping dose of “eye” as well, but it is “eye” with a purpose. We let you into our lives and our thoughts and we hope that you can take something positive away from the experience. We believe a story that is no more than the characters in the story is not enough, for us it must have be bigger than “eye,” it has to have a message, some comedy, insight, something, just something that makes it redeemable and helps to fill in any voids in thought.

Seed’s and euro seed’s brain candy is an ongoing experiment in life. Many facets of which are constantly being sculpted until we’ve delivered something pliable, tasty, and entertaining. We’re glad that you’re here. We hope you enjoy. Most important, we hope you take something away with you.

As for: talking with Deutschland: we’ll share correspondence between two dear friends, sometimes funny, at others purposeful, perhaps absurd --- always served up with love and respect.

Not only will we be letting you in ever so slightly to our personal domain, but with each installment we’ll offer you a little history on Germany. If you’re not interested, skip over it if you must, but don’t you want to learn something more than just “eye!”

Or are you just here for the many mutual delectable taught out of this world orgasms?

talking with Deutschland installment 1
by: seed & euro seed

germany definition/history

Germany (jûr`mənē), Ger. Deutschland, officially Federal Republic of Germany, republic (2005 est. pop. 82,431,000), 137,699 sq mi (356,733 sq km). Located in the center of Europe, it borders the Netherlands, Belgium, Luxembourg, and France on the west; Switzerland and Austria on the south; the Czech Republic and Poland on the east; Denmark on the north; and the Baltic Sea on the northeast. The official capital and largest city is Berlin Berlin (bûr'lĭn`, Ger. bĕrlēn`), city (1994 pop., but many administrative functions are still carried on in Bonn (bŏn, Ger. bôn), city (1994 pop., the former capital of West Germany.

That ends today’s installment on Deutschland and brings us to the meat of this installment:

from seed to euro seed: some after our "partial-conclusions" research

ES

Here’s and interesting article to read (see below)… it’s again, amazing, because we’ve spoken of a lot of this stuff without an ounce of scientific proclivity.

I hope he’s wrong.

Either way, we’ve touched on the importance of “retreating” back to more solid individually-based values, as opposed to, mass-produced, media-fuelled distractions or religious fundamentalism. Who the fuck just wrote the last few lines?

Anyway, long before reading this we spoke of the absurdity of changing light bulbs to save the world. Are we collectively that stupid and naïve?

The point: how can Lindsay and Greg see, without researching first, just simply by listening, watching, and trying to still find peace of mind ---- while being unable to blink at the same time, deduce massive global migration is imminent. Be wrong. Be wrong. Be wrong. That goes for us as well. Unfortunately, I don’t think we are.

Mankind’s roster in the developed world is filled with a bunch of morally-debunked followers. They believe what they’re told. Then they puke up words from the press only perpetuating the insanity. “Did you hear about the woman hit by the snow plow?” Shut up!

And to top it off, the religious fanatics actually believe the rapture (Google: rapture clock) is coming, it may be ---- not in a biblical sense, therefore, they believe that they’re going to be gently lifted by God to Heaven above and all of the sinners will be left to perish in painful, earth-belching, God-created ways. So, fuck doing anything… it’s part of God's Grand Plan. No soup for you Ghandi. They’re the selected few. It just happens 1/3 of Americans are likely to believe this, and frightfully, a large portion of the government. God will fix everything… you just wait and see!

I best stop challenging him/her… he’s got a plan! We just need to suffer some more to get it.

We need to laugh. We need to rally the gang, we have a gang?.. and share happy thoughts about the lingering damages created by farting butterflies. Bet you won’t find that on YouTube?

More importantly, we need to figure out why people use tissues after orgasm (including masturbatory orgasms) instead of a towel? Do tissues heat the globe less? Well, do they?

Seriously, I need to know, maybe I’ll take it up masturbation again… but you don’t need to know that, of course.

In the news:

A tiger killing someone at the San Francisco Zoo.

“Experts think the cat got out on it’s own.”

And;

Six people murdered in a home just outside of Seattle.

That helps humanity… a lot. It’s vitally important for making the world a better and happier place… we all need the relentless bombardment of others suffering… fuck, it’s about time we looked in a different direction than what we’re being fed. Isn’t it?

I’m going to look 90 degrees to the left. I’m done this rant for now… except I’m going to spoil the article by giving you the last few lines.

"Some people will sit in their seats and do nothing, frozen in panic. Others will move. They'll see what's about to happen, and they'll take action, and they'll survive. They're the carriers of the civilization ahead."

At the risk of sounding even more perilously close to the Nuthouse, since I don’t think the 4-billion impoverished of this world are gonna be going green anytime soon, are we part of the quote? The vital part? Or are we just as delusional as the rest?

Munich Der Alte Peter

Hell, I believe it is absolutely imperative for the world to understand the importance of caring for one another, hugging each other, and that we change our fucking greedy ways. It’s not working. If that message fills the universe… at least when whatever comes our way, comes our way, we’ll be treating each other right, instead of trying to kill each other for oil, for water, or for gummy bears!

I think this was a positive rant… was it?

Love you brother in spirit

Seed

P.S. Can you go get me a tissue?

The Prophet of Climate Change: James Lovelock

some quick snips from the article

…His step is jaunty, his mind lively, his manner anything but gloomy. In fact, the coming of the Four Horsemen -- war, famine, pestilence and death -- seems to perk him up. "It will be a dark time," Lovelock admits. "But for those who survive, I suspect it will be rather exciting."

In Lovelock's view, the scale of the catastrophe that awaits us will soon become obvious. By 2020, droughts and other extreme weather will be commonplace. By 2040, the Sahara will be moving into Europe, and Berlin will be as hot as Baghdad. Atlanta will end up a kudzu jungle. Phoenix will become uninhabitable, as will parts of Beijing (desert), Miami (rising seas) and London (floods). Food shortages will drive millions of people north, raising political tensions. "The Chinese have nowhere to go but up into Siberia," Lovelock says. "How will the Russians feel about that? I fear that war between Russia and China is probably inevitable." With hardship and mass migrations will come epidemics, which are likely to kill millions. By 2100, Lovelock believes, the Earth's population will be culled from today's 6.6 billion to as few as 500 million, with most of the survivors living in the far latitudes -- Canada, Iceland, Scandinavia, the Arctic Basin…

…"Our future," Lovelock writes, "is like that of the passengers on a small pleasure boat sailing quietly above the Niagara Falls, not knowing that the engines are about to fail." And switching to energy-efficient light bulbs won't save us. To Lovelock, cutting greenhouse-gas pollution won't make much difference at this point, and much of what passes for sustainable development is little more than a scam to profit off disaster. "Green," he tells me, only half-joking, "is the color of mold and corruption."..

…Lovelock knows that predicting the end of civilization is not an exact science. "I could be wrong about all this," he admits as we stroll around the park in Norway. "The trouble is, all those well-intentioned scientists who are arguing that we're not in any imminent danger are basing their arguments on computer models. I'm basing mine on what’s actually happening."…

…According to the accepted wisdom, life evolved here because the conditions were right -- not too hot, not too cold, plenty of water. Somehow bacteria grew into multicelled organisms, fish crawled out of the sea, and before long, Britney Spears arrived…

It’s a fascinating article from a brilliant mind. Is he right? It’s impossible to tell, I wouldn’t bet the over/under on this one. I hope he’s not… if you take the time to read the whole article and do some additional research, you may find the one thing that scares you the most, it did “eye,” his casual manner of presentation. He doesn’t seem to be an “I told you so” sort of guy. He tackles this from perspective. That’s what scares me the most.

In light of that, I can’t highlight this any louder, sure, do whatever you can to ease your conscious on the pending perils of the globe. Shop green. Just make sure the “green” you’re buying isn’t stuffing the corporate pockets of those who are less than noble. In my opinion: Ego is our downfall, and when Ego is coupled with greed, the fall is unbearably steep.

Let me extrapolate just a wee bit: Do you have a girlfriend, wife, partner, best friend? You don’t? I’m so sorry for you… I’ll be your friend. You have a miniature pony? Lucky you! I’m jealous!

After inflicting your will upon each of the people you “want” in your life, your loved ones, translation: seeing them for what they may become, instead of who they are… and then having to adjust your future projections to reflect on self and your shortcomings. Simply stated: love me for who I am, because I’ll never be who you need me to be. I’m me, not your Ken doll… work on yourself if you want to accept me. I’ll do the same if you’re the one for me.

Good, you get it… love will have a chance if you do. Anyway, will withdrawn, after financial quandaries and unsightly hairs growing where they’ve never grown before, “ewe eyeball hairs,” the things that have a propensity to dismantle relationships: trying to decide where to eat, or what movie to go to, or where’d you like me to shoot my… my… goo! Nice, I’m feeling sleepy now.

Where am I going with this you ask?

Well, you see, once you subtract Politicians, Corporate Heads, The Illuminati, The Freemasons, Religious Fanatics, Steroid injecting role models (chuckle) and any other pompous individual who believes that they are entitled, and you break it down to you and me: How can we possibly change the course of the nearly 7-billion inhabitants on this planet when we can’t trust our messengers? I’ve got a hunch their motivation isn’t inline with ours. I’m not a believer in the apocalypse or a doomsayer, so to speak, however, we’ve got some bumps on the highway ahead of us, don’t you think?

If you don’t… you maybe one of the lucky ones. Sleep may come easy for you. If envy wasn’t a sin… I’d envy you. By the way what are you wearing?.. hot, loosen your jumper just a bit, nice, may I touch… your skin is so soft and silky. Is it getting hotter in here? I feel something rising…oh my… I love the feel of your… SMACK.

Composure regained, where was “eye?”

Oh yeah, 7-billion loved ones all in the same boat teetering above Niagara Falls, must be a big boat, 4-billion of them living on just dollars per day and not reading the same news as us, they’re, like us, just trying to survive, do you really think we can get everyone to agree on the same place for lunch or to go to the same movie? Think back to your loved ones, scary isn’t it?

Munich Feldherrnhalle

This doesn’t mean don’t try!

For me it just means to scale down the scope of the effort. Sure, do research, as said, go green for your conscious, for most of us it may be the first time we’ve thought of something other than ourselves, which is a nice starting point and a sign the world is becoming a softer place. And that bodes well for our future. The grand scope of things starts at one place, turning “eye” into something much more substantive, something helpful to the bigger picture --- where does one start without becoming overwhelmed?

That’s simple: and a point that I’ll stress over and over and over again at the risk of sermonizing, and I’m not religious, at least not that I’m aware of, anyway, here goes:

Treat family and friends like gold. Nurture and support.
Likewise for friends.
Treat all others with kindness.
Dump race and color from your perspective. Minorities don’t exist. Don’t we get that yet?
Treat our world with respect, including all living creatures.
Smile, hug and love.
Have sex, as much as you need, never manipulative, just remember: we’ve got 7-billion people to feed already, so if you’re going to do it for procreation, just make sure you give it a whack of thought. If not, where’d you like me to goo?

I know we bang on these simple points a lot… I think it is vitally important and if we don’t start with self, have a chance, will be stripped from our realities. Just think: If you’re living a full life and treating others well… does it really matter what may be coming our way?

Whatever may be coming our way, civilization will move on, with or without us, let’s just make sure that while Mother Earth is doing her thing, we don’t forget to embrace each day!

To read the whole James Loveslock article click on the following link:

http://www.rollingstone.com/politics/story/16956300/the_prophet_of_climate_change_james_lovelock/print

Be Happy!

cha - cha - change: a clean slate

2007-12-31T09:10:00.000-08:00

cha - cha - change: a clean slate
by: lindsay wincherauk

As the odometer is about to roll over on another year it once again becomes time to sit back and do a little reflecting on what was, and what some simple tweaks may bring our way in the future to brighten the day. I’m not one to jump on the get fit, drink less, focus more, bandwagons… those are just givens and for the most part, in my opinion: set us up for failure. Fitness, health, and focus need to be ongoing quests for each and every one of us and not signs of failed attempts brought to our attention on a yearly basis right after the gluttony of the holiday season. And besides, I’m always somewhere between fit and fat, as said before in a previous post, I’m usually, “fet,” and that is good enough for me, except when I’m in competition mode… there just aren’t very many competitions ahead. In that spirit:

…until further notice.

That’s not a copout, it’s just been a little hectic and emotionally draining on the home front, resulting in one heck of a challenge just to keep from sinking. My fitness challenge helped…it helped by giving me the odd endorphin rush and it also dragged me away from my own quagmire of over-thinking my familial turmoil. I’ve survived, I think, just barely. I’m definitely looking forward to 2008 and what lay ahead for me and all of my friends. As for 155, the whole point of the experiment was to instill some positive lifestyle choices and regain some awareness --- on that front it has been a rousing success and 155 is still the ultimate goal, as said, I’ve got some time to get there and I’ll keep you up to date on the results. 155 also earmarks some research I’m doing for an exciting book project: Put Down the Fork. Stay tuned.

Also stay tuned for the first installment of:

The story of a crime fighting Super Hero and his trusty companion as they travel the globe drowning out the forces of evil. It ~~should~~ will be exciting!

That brings us to:

My list is part comedy, part serious, and definitely all me. In 2008 and beyond I resolve to:

Try to be 33.33% less funny. That’s right, I’m going to give up some of my funny, don’t worry, I’ll still be cranking at 66.6% on the guffaw index, and since funny comes from pain… I think giving up some of it will allow my emotional first-aid kit to have a break. I don't think you're funny now! Oh yeah!
Cry as often as I need to.
Be more handsomer.
Spin in circles less.
Smile more.
Sit down more often.
Continue pursuing my passions.
Have my Memoir published along with continuing working on several other exciting, glamorous, insightful, and exceptionally hilarious writing projects.
Dump the guilt from the sexual equation. Except solo sex… ewe… touching oneself for pleasure --- I can think of one thing: blindness. I’m already blind in one eye… can’t risk pleasure --- making it two. What’s that?.. it won’t make me blind. You can leave now, I won’t be needing you here anymore… I said go, okay, you can stay, as long as we spoon afterward. Did you want to hear my hopes and dreams?.. hey, where are you going? Come back…
~~Save the world.~~
I’ve just been informed no one man can save the world, thus, I’m just going to continue doing the best I can at being kind to all others. Translation: removing judgment.
Make a stranger smile everyday… what’s that?.. You think it conflicts with number 1? Trust me, even by giving up a third, there will still be enough funny to go around for everyone.
Dance more.
Reconnect.
Purchase my own home. A stretch?.. we’ll see, it’s down on ~~paper~~ computer screen now --- which happens to be a big part of the battle, I'm told.
Say I love you.
Have an orgasm on a Tuesday… I think I was shut out on Tuesday last year. Too much information?
Dump my Fear of Success. Success is not a bad thing, and a dose of it will help big time with numbers 10, 11 and 19.
And last but not least, let love, happiness, health, and prosperity in through the front door.

That’s all for now friends. Sending each and every one of you good wishes for 2008 and the years to come as we’re all in this big game of life together. So, therefore, lets collectively rise above what Politicians and Corporations are selling us --- together we can once again make this world a brilliantly fantastic place!

a snapshot of me

2007-12-27T11:33:00.000-08:00

a snapshot of me
by: lindsay wincherauk

birth

July 16th, 1960, Edmonton Alberta, Canada.

Parents: Nick & Rebekah Wincherauk.

First home: a mystery, rumor has it for the first five years I was passed around like a hot potato until Nick & Rebekah, finally opened their door. Born in Edmonton… never lived there in childhood, should’ve figured something was fishy. Lived in Saskatoon starting at five. I think.

Brothers/Sisters: Six ranging from four years older to twenty-three years older.

Sequence: Sister (Bernice), Sister (Sadie), Sister (Beverly), Brother (James), Brother (Donald), and Brother (Brian). And, of course, me (Lindsay), number seven.

Aunts/Uncles/Others: countless. One Grandfather was a minister.

foibles

I’m blind in my left eye. A patch was put over it in my youth --- I just walked into things. The patch apparently wasn’t a miracle worker.

Youth surgeries: numerous, eye (several), tonsils, and others I can’t recall. I was a kid.

Adult surgeries: at least thirteen that I can remember. Seven being knee surgeries.

Pneumonia three times as a kid, quite severe I was told. Battled it a couple times in adulthood. Still winning… whew!

growing up

A bitch. Parents were old. Youngest of seven meant a lot of shouting out “Hey look at me! Look what I can do!” Nobody took the time to look. Not all bad, I became amazingly adept at a lot of different things --- in two year stints. And, I developed a killer personality. Really! Nah… I’m kidding. Am I?

school

I did okay… in two year stints. Class clown. Consummate entertainer. I hid behind personality… trying to get noticed.

University: enrolled to play sports, followed my Brothers footsteps. Academics… I’d get by, sort of. Wrong choice? Nah… just wasn’t ready to pick a direction.

athletics

Looked up to Brother Don. Tried to follow his lead. Football was his thing. I ventured into many areas. All-star second baseman in baseball. City Champion in baseball. Golf… low handicap. Won my division in tournament once. Tennis, good. Football, quarterback: City Champion in sandlot ball. City/Provincial Champion in High School. National Champion in Junior. Played several years in university (as mentioned above).

Accomplishments: Canadian Junior Football Record: Longest touchdown pass in league history.

http://www.cjfl.ca/recordBooks/CJFL%202007%20Record%20Book.pdf

(page 12 & 147).

12

PASSING YARDS

LONGEST PASS
108t Lindsay Wincherauk to Gord Bolstad, Edmonton Wildcats (PFC)…Sept 24, 1979

147

1979: Quarterback Lindsay Wincherauk of the Edmonton Wildcats throws a record 108 touchdown pass to Gord Bostad on Sept. 24. Brian Peberdy of the Saskatoon Hilltops returns a punt 130 yards for a score on Aug. 12. It is the longest in junior history.

Saskatchewan Sports Hall of Fame: Inducted as part of National Championship Team.

http://www.saskatoonsportshalloffame.com/team/1978_saskatoon_hilltops.htm

(brilliant hair!)

Many more sporting accomplishments… for the most part unnoticed by family. Oh well.

massive hurdle

Older parents meant an earlier introduction to sickness. Dad’s started when I was sixteen with the last six years being for the most part --- spent visiting the hospital. He died the day after my twenty-fifth birthday, July 17th, 1985.

Mom: passed December 12th 1987.

I not only witnessed both of their declines --- as the youngest child I was there for both of their last gasps of life.

The family: splintered apart. I was left on my own. Bitter… nah, I just don't understand.

career

Spinning in circles. Two years, some success, get bored and quit or eventually get fired. Next career: two years, some success, get bored and quit or eventually get fired. No direction. Home base was gone. The loop continues…. argh… for at least twenty years.

Need focus… maybe tomorrow.

love

Do you mean sex?

Easy… not me, getting some, was never malicious. However, rarely fulfilling --- except for those from my past who've taken the time to read this, of course.

Real love: twice, actually, four times. The love source has gone through a transition.

Now: alone.

Options: present, I hear the knocking, I won’t open the door. Why?

an even more massive hurdle

2003: breakup of a new-sourced true love, death (suicide), death (cancer of a friend), alienation (family and friends), deception, death, death, and another death. Where’d my family go? My home?

a wall

July 2003 Europe beckoning: “Could you phone your parents and ask them who your real parents are?”

What?

My parents came back to life.

What?

My parents aren’t Rebekah & Nicholas. That explains being a hot potato for the first five years. If not them, who?

Bernice and Elmer.

Not Bernice, she wasn’t good to me… Elmer?

Why the mystery?

The times.

Bullshit. Those times are gone.

Do I tell them I know?

Yes. “I know.” *CLICK* They hung up the phone… I’m all alone.

Strangers offer: You don’t understand what it was like back-then.

I checked the calendar… we’re living in the present, back-then can’t be fixed, today a hug can be offered. It’s not.

hope

Elmer!

Three years go by. He wants to be my father. We meet. It’s good. Two weeks later: “Elmer, it’s not a happy ending, you’re not my father.”

Hope drifts away. Alone, again?

Not entirely, fantastic friends… too much for them to constantly be bombarded with?

I hope not.

Fucked up?

Somewhat.

Bringing us to:

my ode to 2007
by: lindsay wincherauk

How am I doing?

“Unbelievably!.. considering. I don’t understand how you could possibly be okay. Too much has happened. I’m not sure how you could’ve handled things. You seem to be able to put things into perspective, assign meaning, understand right and wrong, good and bad, and, you magically seem to be coming out the other end, okay.” Dr. Musial, stated, and then continued. “You are of high intellect and it’s a true testament to your character. It’s an amazing story, Lindsay, and amazingly, you’re handling it. More than a lifetime of hurt has come your way and you’re not broken and bitter. It’s your time to shine.” Now smirking. “You’re either a genius or you’re crazy…”

…I’m going with a crazy… can’t call myself a genius, I think that would be the first indication that I’m not.

2007 was probably the most difficult year of my life. I’m floating, barely. At the risk adding a smattering of whine to my diction: When is it going to get easier?

I don’t have anything left in the tank and my vessel is springing leaks… I want to stop crying. I’m not feeling sorry for myself, maybe a little, I’m a good man. I’m kind. I’ve got a sense of humor. I’m friendly to all. But I can’t seem to scratch and crawl my way to success.

“Lindsay, you’re extremely intelligent, it’s time for you to succeed. You’re family has instilled a heaping helping of the fear of success in you. Primarily, your mother. It’s obvious.” My doctor added. “It’s your time.”

I don’t know how?

Nobody’s watching. They won’t care. They shouldn’t matter. They ran when I needed them the most… now, I need, me. I fucking faked it with my doctor. I’m not doing all that well… and I don’t know how to turn the corner. My friends, brilliant. Wayne, a remarkable father/husband, who has taken care of me without condition, I’m lucky. Greg, my brother in spirit, a man who’s risen above his own family dysfunction and has succeeded immensely in spite of them stripping away his climb by diminishing his effort. I’m not sure they’ve understood the height of his challenge, and that a “I’m proud of you. What a fantastic accomplishment” would’ve gone a long way to bringing him to happy. Is the world spinning so fast that we’re now forgetting to lift the spirits of family? Has it always been this way? If it has been… what’s wrong with us?

I need to let some stuff go… again, I don’t know how?

As the years go by, we understand that there really are more important things in life than “things.” We develop a tendency to hang on to the people who make our lives better --- the kind of people who inspire us by the way they freely give of their talents, the positive way they look at life, and the generous way they share their hearts.

Because you’re that kind of person, I just couldn’t let Christmas go by without wishing you a day filled with joy and a year filled with happiness.

signed: Elmer (my not-father)

Christmas Eve, the words above came in a card sent to me from, Elmer, my not-father. I walked down the street afterward, tears rolling down my cheeks, I didn’t wipe them away. Elmer, sees something. My doctor, does. So do Wayne and Greg. Why doesn’t my family? My mother? She sent me a box with an empty photo album in it.

“She’s trying to hurt you.” Doctor Musial, opined days earlier when I told him of the photo album. She’s succeeding. “There won’t be a happy ending. Where do you see it going with your non-father?”

“Sadly, regardless of the positive sentiment, I’m sure it’ll just drift away. We don’t have a reason anymore to bond. Hearing from him now, as kind as he is, hurts. Maybe it shouldn’t. It just, does. So, I think our relationship needs to run its course and flutter away. His presence reminds me of what I’ll likely never have.”

“You’re probably right. Most people wouldn’t be able to see the reality in your words. It’s astounding that you do. Your relationship would for the most part be awkward without a reason for the connection. You need to grieve losing your father again… with Elmer present, you won’t be able to do just that.” Sadness was present in both voice and expression.

Back on the street on Christmas Eve, tears still rolling, I spun back and forth between the card and photo album. Focus on the positive, Lindsay. I’m right. Photo album, a relative stranger sees something special in me, the album, what a beautiful card, album, I do share my heart, I am good to all, it comes naturally, album, my doctor thinks I’m brilliant, and, my not-father wanted to be my father. Take that album and your empty sheets of guilt and pain. Take that!

I’ve fooled them with passion, smoke and mirrors. I may have a positive attitude. I may think of others first, a character flaw?.. I feel beaten, trashed, as if I’m not going to survive. I feel hopeless. I work hard. My tenacity doesn’t appear to matter. I see the world as a place that needs some serious nurturing, now. I see an amazingly beautiful and vibrant world that is self-destructing in delusion and deceit. Collectively we seem to be distracted and chasing glitter instead of substance. We want instead of give. We judge instead of hug. And, we push and barge our way to the unattainable top, instead of taking a moment to breathe and offer others a hand. We’re being manipulated, by greed, and by those who get a big taste of it and don’t realize that they’re no better than those who still take the time to hug. We live in a world where one baseball player, a shortstop, earns $3,139 per hour, 24 hours a day, 365 days per year. We think that’s okay… it’s what the market will bear. I can’t watch baseball anymore. Let alone go to a game… even if my tickets were free. Bitter? No. Jealous? If my weakness was a motivation for money, yes. It’s not, so again, NO. He plays baseball. Don’t we see the absurdity? Don’t we see the shunning of all others?

We’re all created equal.

PLEASE! Not in the current version of the world.

I don’t belong of this earth. I’ve got the wrong attitude. I haven’t been able to jump on the greed bandwagon. I’m not out searching for the BIGGEST SALE. The whole concept of SALE itself screams “let’s screw each other over… we’ve produced too much crap and now we’ve got to make room for the next batch coming off the assembly lines by finding a way to sell it to you.” Be honest: for the most part you don’t need what you’re buying. Corporate profits must keep rising or the shareholders won’t be able to claim their perch at the top. Isn’t it time to stop raping the earth and produce just what we need, and most important, sell it for what it‘s worth to begin with?

Then there won’t be anymore sales. Precisely!.. we can get back to family. An impossible dream?

Unfortunately, greed and want, makes it an impossibility until our whole system crumbles. The problem: we’ll never be honest with ourselves to see the possibility of that day coming ‘cause we’re too busy crawling over each other at the mall.

Several potential love interests contacted me over the holidays, wishing me well, they’ve all shared a common attraction to me, “You’re easy to be with. Calming. I feel safe around you. You’re not like the rest.” I fail each of them as I don’t know how to truly let them in. I resist being loved. I punish myself. I’m afraid to be hurt. I contradict, me. How can I be calming, easy to be with, when I feel so afraid?”

Truth be told, their company protects me, helps me to escape, me. I need to let someone in for more than a moment. How?.. is the question.

The end has crossed my mind again on a couple of occasions. I’ve kept its echoes silent to others. I hate its presence. I sink low and think: what a statement it would be if I didn’t rise on January 2nd. The 1st is my mothers birthday, I could punctuate my pain by being no more, and I could send the ALBUM back with one photo, me waving goodbye. We’ve never said hello --- the photo could do both.

I never told my doctor of my demise creeping into my thoughts… I was too busy selling my performance. My acting is strong. I’ve never told another living soul of the extent of my pain, I don’t want to be a burden. I wear it daily. If I do act… I’ll need to be forgotten as those who do love me, they don’t deserve my selfishness, selfless is supposed to be my strength. I’ll have betrayed them. I’m sorry.

I’ll be here on the 2nd and the pain will go on. I’ll continue with the next scene… trying to SNAP out of my fall. I’ll keep persisting. Searching for positive. Being kind to others. I need to be kind to myself. I’ll continue the pursuit of my passion. I’ll let someone in… accept who I’ve become. I’m lying, I think. I’ll embrace me. At least I’ll try. I’ll continue to fool others. I’ll continue to hug. I’ll continue to cry. I want to find success. To capture happiness. Christmas has come and gone --- I invited many people to share in mine --- some confirmed that they were coming… most never showed. I pretended their absence didn’t hurt. It cemented the fact: new friends are a stretch. They’ve got their own lives. I need to be good to me… I sent the invites, and I’ll do so again next year, bitter is not allowed! I wanted to make the day astounding. I wanted to offer warmth and hospitality. I guess I did --- the numbers are irrelevant as it is more important to accept the gesture. No shows are not a reflection of the gesture.

My great friend, Steve, did come after all, and another friend, Steve, dropped by for an afternoon visit… that is all that matters. And I was given the opportunity to learn more about another guest who I’d likely never break bread with in the real world. We broke bread together so to speak, and if I say so myself the meal was fantastic.

Boxing Day, a good friend, Binh, called, he was away from home for only his second Christmas. He misses home. He called to ask if he could drop by for a visit. “Absolutely,” was the answer. Christmas was extended. We chatted for hours, partook in liquid refreshments, listened to Christmas songs. Very nice! Friendship and love is what the season is about. I shared stories from my youth, Binh, often suppresses tears, the story evoked the odd drop. The memory shared was a cherished one. Me, a youngster, a little over five at most, I never understood it at the time, however, the deception of my upbringing instilled many wonderful characteristics in me… anyway, on Christmas mornings past I’d be anxious for the family to come together, the gifts weren’t important, at least not ones to me, every Christmas I assumed the role of distributor, from:… to:… I’d hand out gift after gift. Keeping the family together was what mattered. Where did they go? Have they forgotten?

Binh helped to remind me family changes. A great lesson. Christmas is important to him. As our day wound down I could see the joy in his smile, maybe created in part by the liquids, actually, not. We threw on some glasses that made the room explode into a kaleidoscope of colors. We acted like children. For a moment we were again --- how fun! His presence helped me to remember it isn’t about just one day… the warmth and vibrancy of color burst into our hearts as we listened to song after song, culminating with, “Thank you! You saved Christmas for me. I’ve had a great time.”

He saved mine as well and helped me to regain the positives. Thank you!

Rebirth is upon us again. A new year is on the horizon. A clean slate. I promise to reach for the sky. I promise to wipe my slate clear. I promise to…

I just need to start believing my performance. I hope one day I can.

2008

Is it my turn to be calmed?

The best must certainly be ahead. My Memoir will be published and it will become a rousing literary and motion picture success. I truly am an amazing and beautiful man who’ll have a positive impact on the world. And most important: I deserve a life filled with love, happiness, health, and prosperity.

As my doctor directed confidently my way:

“Lindsay, it’s time for you to shine. You’re either a genius or you’re crazy”

lindsay’s life or a bizarre movie script: the game show

2007-12-13T16:49:00.000-08:00

lindsay’s life or a bizarre movie script: the game show
by: lindsay wincherauk

Dateline: December 13th 2007

An exciting and bizarre new game show is sweeping the nation by storm:

Each installment contestants will listen to a relentless parade of events and bizarre plot twists… at the end of which they must decide if what they’ve just digested is part of Lindsay’s life or a bizarre movie script. Pretty self explanatory. Contestants are playing for…

Scene 1

December 12th 2007

On this day, the 20th anniversary of watching his mother pass away, who wasn’t really his mother by the way, his father, who’d magically came back to life 4 years ago, called. Lindsay and his father who came back to life (18 years after Lindsay watched his father die) built a 3 year relationship over the phone before they finally happily met --- happened not to be his real father, a fact Lindsay was forced to inform his father of after receiving DNA test results --- his non-father contacted Lindsay’s real mother, who won’t admit to being his real mother, who happens to be dying by the way, to ask her who’s Lindsay’s new real father?

I reiterate, he called on the 20th anniversary of Lindsay watching his mother die. Just a coincidence?

Contestants: Is this a bizarre movie script or is it Lindsay’s life?

Stay tuned for the next installment… coming soon.

On a lighter note: here’s another original article which has been pitched to the media. I hope you enjoy!.. and have a

Wonderful Christmas!

immigration: are we being duped?
by: lindsay wincherauk

Are we being duped by our politicians? Our fearless leaders?

Which of the following is the greatest threat to our way of life: terrorism, global warming, violent weather, illegal immigration, peak oil, crime, hockey’s goal shortage, or greed? Come to think of it: what is our WAY of life?

We’re facing rising oceans, wildfires, and Americas deep south is immersed in a severe water crisis --- coupled with rising temperatures. With unrelenting heat and no water, what’ll quench insatiable thirst? Is unlivable on the horizon?

Some experts claim drinking water in Atlanta Georgia, will expire by years end. This problem is not restricted to just Georgia, seven other states whose main source of water comes from the Colorado river could soon be facing a similar calamity --- the river is running precariously close to dry. For more information, Google it!

Why is this important to us in the at-times-drowning Pacific Northwest?

If this crisis is real, and the temperature and droughts don’t subside, maybe not this year, but sometime in our lifetime, millions upon millions of American immigrants will be created by changing climate. Without water areas will quickly become uninhabitable, with residents migrating in search of new places to live. Sounds alarming. It is?

How are we being duped?

Turn on the news and listen to the candidates battling in the US election campaign. The message seems to be skewed. No longer is terrorism the main fix. Global warming does occupy the stage, only somewhat. The number one issue: illegal immigrants and what they’re doing to our way of life. They’re taking our jobs is shouted loud and clear. They can come but we must be able to track them, make them legal. Tag them so we can control them. Sound familiar? What’s your SIN?

News flash: Most Americans/Canadians haven’t wanted, or won’t, do the jobs immigrants are willing do for low pay, for a long, long time now. And, I guarantee: the illegal ones aren’t working as doctors and lawyers.

Could the politicians and corporations be distracting us from what is really important by creating enemies who aren’t really there? Aren’t most people on this planet just trying get by and be happy? Do you really think people at the dinner table in (insert developing nation here) are discussing hatred for America? Do you think new immigrants are reporting to Dr. Evil at the end of each day?

“Our plan is working to perfection. We’ve got them just where we want them. I’m prepared to do whatever I need… sorry, gotta go, American Idol is on and I just financed a HD television. I’ll get back to the master plan tomorrow… or the next day. How about, I’ll call you when I’m ready?”

If we buy into the propaganda, we’re supposed to shun all those who are different by putting up borders and keeping them out. We’re supposed remove tolerance and diversity from the equation. Our warmth is to be turned cold.

The holidays are upon us, and whether you say Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukah, or Bingo Bango Luongo, who cares, as long as you treat others with respect and are trying to find happiness yourself.

Diversity and tolerance is what makes Vancouver/Canada great. With the prospect of drought in the south, we’ll need it, the Americans may be on our doorstep soon. And, I’m certain they won’t care whether or not they’re legal or not. Unlike the immigrants before who came in search of a better life… the Americans will be coming because they want/need something we have.

GULP!

---------

Lindsay is a Vancouver based author. For information visit http://www.seedenterprises.com/

--------

155: slide show

2007-12-12T19:29:00.000-08:00

in loving memory

2007-12-12T00:01:00.000-08:00

in loving memory

Rebekah (Becky) Elizabeth Wincherauk

born: 1914 passed away: December 12th 1987

On this date 20 years ago I was present to witness the passing of my (Grand)Mother. I held her hand for several hours as my friend Gord Tank, stood by.

My great friends, Darryl, Corrie, Barb, Wes, Kleo, Kirk, Jeff, Lori, Gord, Michelle, and several other loving friends, stood by to make sure that I was going to be okay. That night when I left her bedside, I never fully understood the scope of the new beginning in my life... I never fully knew the magnitude of what was coming my way. I survived, somewhat. That night I celebrated her life with these great friends.

All these years later, December 12th., etches its way into my heart. It's subsided some over the years, not really, however, this year, it's coming on strong. I don't want to reveal much more of my heart on this occasion --- I now need to protect the memory.

All I want to say: Rebekah ("Becky") Elizabeth Wincherauk, (Grand)Mom, thank you for giving me a chance. Without you, I would have never survived. I love you with every ounce of my heart, and I can never imagine the struggle you faced. Your care taught me how to give back without condition. You ~~were~~ always will be, a remarkable woman. Your children were blessed to be raised by you.

I will never forget you, or be able to thank you enough for the strength you showed and the love that you sent my way. I now understand, love, and family, is more important than any material possessions we can obtain in our journey through life. Because of you I will never be alone. Thank you!

Wherever you are I know it will never be goodbye.

Much Love

Lindsay

155: day 15teen - twenty-three

2007-12-11T15:45:00.000-08:00

155: day 15teen - twenty-three
the home stretch

dec 3rd - dec 11th

opening salvo…

Your writing makes me sad. there’s a lot of anger and sadness in it. It seems as if you’re are trying to reach for happiness. Even the Christmas tree drawing on your web site… sad, lumpy, empty.
- words from a friend.

Are the words right? Should I get defensive? Are they judgmental? Critical?

They unquestionably make me ponder where I’m heading. Maybe I’m, no, absolutely I’m, somewhat stuck with my family dilemma. With each day that passes I’m becoming glaringly more cognizant of my need to move on. It does me no good staying stuck. The words of others, when they come without judgment paint the significance of that need, brilliantly. And that is why on day 17teen, “Hello Doc. It’s been awhile… not much how about you. I’m not sure why I called I guess I really just wanted to talk to you.” And talk we’ll do. He’ll assess my ability to process. I’m sure he’ll tell me it’s amazing that I’m not a basket case, and then he’ll find something funny to bug me about. In the end if all goes well… he’ll wish me well, tell me to give it some time, and, he’ll tell me I’m intelligent and I’ll be fine.

Except for the damn sore throat I’ve developed in the last day. My friggen challenge, is becoming more, challenging. Monday a scratch. Tuesday some drizzle from my nose. Wednesday you sick boy… no gym for you. I knew that… so I’ve been absent thus far this week… being in-tune. If all goes well… back at it tomorrow.

I’ll end this with a flashback:

Husky football circa sometime in the 80s:

Coach Garvey: Boys we’ve got a big game ahead. UBC is one fine looking football team.

He draws a picture of a car on the board and writes Husky Mobile on it.

Coach Garvey: We’ve been struggling lately. We seem to be stuck. We’ve slid off the prairie highway and we’re spinning our wheels. We must find a way out of the ditch and back on the road. Boys we’ve got a great team. We can beat anybody. We just need focus. UBC may be good, but when we’re firing on all cylinders we can defeat them. I believe it! We have to fight. As a team. If we do we’ll get out of the ruts and be unstoppable. So, let’s fight together and win. What do we need to do to get the Husky Mobile unstuck?

Defensive lineman (enrolled in vocational agriculture): Coach… duh. (he goes to the board and starts drawing). I reckon we best go get the tractor and pull the car out of the ditch.

Sad is a powerful emotion as long as we stop it from lingering. Without sad I’m not so certain happy can be found.

…end of opening salvo.

pep talk of the day

SLUMP.

I was already to go with a inspiring pep talk about editing life and wham… a massive slump hit. I’ll try not to bring you down with me, but this whole family affair of mine, is grating on me. Build up… build up… build up… and then nothing. It wasn’t supposed to end this way. It has and I can’t do a damn thing about it.

I try not to read too much into the deception. I try desperately to convince myself that nothing has changed and this whole journey is no big deal. It’s not working. I visited my doctor… he had a sub in for him. She listened to my update and when I shared my last word injected.

“Wow. That’s too much for one person. In a year. I think in a lifetime. Way too much. You shouldn’t be okay. Are you? You need to give some of it away. Do you have anyone to talk to? You must come back. Get a full physical. Make sure nothings growing and everything is functioning properly. Book a physical… that way you’ll have enough time to fill Doc. Musial, in. I’m amazed you’re okay.”

Am I? I’m not so sure.

I’m feel as I’m frozen in an empty vortex and nothing means anything anymore. There is nothing ahead. This wasn’t supposed to be the conclusion. It was supposed to be a happy ending. Don’t get me wrong, I take great pride in who I’m becoming. In treating others well. And, I haven’t stopped doing so. But I’m not sure what the point of it is. I won’t stop. I’m just not so sure why I’m continuing?

I’m struggling with laughter. I’m struggling with allowing others in. I guess I’m just, struggling. Stuck. Frozen. Flailing. I need my writing to produce some results. I'm not sure if anyone is listening or if anyone cares. We’re too busy with celebrity. We’re too immersed in distraction. We’re all too tired to care. Are we not?

I care. It’s all I have to give.

As for my slump: a little sickness, led to a hint of depression, led to eating of crap again, led to avoiding the spirit-lifting exercise, led to soul-sapping… and thus, no pep talk in this installment.

Instead, I give you one of my latest article pitches, it’s a work in progress. Hope you enjoy!

our way of life: from beginning to end?
by: lindsay wincherauk

Some rich man came and raped the land,
nobody caught ‘em.
Put up a bunch of ugly boxes,
and Jesus, people bought ‘em.

- the eagles/last resort

People from all over the World came to a new land, searching for freedom, liberty, the search for happiness, and a better way of life.

They staked claims to the land and forced their ways upon it’s indigenous inhabitants. They faced resistance. However, they were too strong and came in numbers too large for the natives to overcome. The aboriginals were defeated and their way of life was stripped from them. And so to was the respect for the land.

Society began to evolve. Everyone worked in harmony building towns, cities, highways, means of communication and items of opulence. Opportunity abounded! America became a land of freedom. A land where all man was equal. A land of endless opportunity. And, out of the propaganda, the American Dream was built. Be all you can be. Whatever you want can be yours. The Dream was real. Everyone started reaching for the sky.

At first everything was wonderful. Families grew. Love was strong. And people individually began to gravitate toward their strengths. Intellectuals found science, medicine, law, etc. Others leaned toward agriculture. Some weren’t so inclined and found themselves looking after homes, cleaning, maintaining, and nurturing. And some got dirty and built societies infrastructure. Some found themselves in manufacturing: clothing, furniture, the necessities of living… all the way to items of luxury. Each had someone above them orchestrating movement. Like the land before, the first to lay claim soared to the stratospheres… in the hierarchy of society the first to define status gained tremendous wealth and status.

The Dream was alive and everyone believed with hard work they could still reach for the sky. Shoot for your Dreams. Anything is possible. It was. Society rewarded accomplishment. A doctor, a lawyer, an entrepreneur, and heads of companies were paid like Kings. A farm worker, a janitor, and a mother, not so much. Those without means were forced to live in different neighborhoods. The other side of the tracks. The bottom of the hill. Yet, they still believed the stars were within reach. Stay in school. Work hard son and you can have whatever you want.

Want?

Corporations created it. If we show the populace what they need, give them a taste with marketing, show images of the rich & famous living amazing lives while enjoying our stuff… we can reap the rewards. Lets start with the children --- hang out by the school yards and show them their first taste.

It worked to perfection.

Everybody started to look for an angle. Something to sell. Something that would help them live the American Dream. Something to help them shoot for the stars. I bought it for this much (sale). I sold it for this. Became contradicting forces. Fair market value… a fallacy at best. In the infancy of the plan… many changed social classes, and with new found success, changed neighborhoods as well. The janitor was left behind. But we’re all created equal. Depression sets in. If I’m equal why can’t I climb?

Those who’ve climbed to the top began to forget the difficulty of the climb. They forgot that those they climbed over are human as well. They looked down on those who were never given the tools to reach great heights. Be that: intelligence, birthright or just plain luck. I worked hard. I deserve more. If they want what I have they can work like me. All without an ounce of compassion for how much effort it takes to remain impoverished. Poor takes more effort than rich can ever imagine. Society continues…

Everyone wants, wants, wants… wanting is marketed as happiness. It’s the fuel that ignites the lower reaches of society. They can look, but they can’t touch. Some still find a way up. Most just Dream. A line is established. Those who can have. Those who can’t. Each year more fall below the line.

Must keep those below the line hungry. Sell them hope. Unattainable?

If they’re hungry and still believe they can have… they’ll work harder. They do.

Families begin to fail. The pressure of the Dream is too much. You never give me anything. We never go anywhere. You’ll never amount to anything. Society fractures. The divorce rate soars. Two homes are created from where there once was only one. Two homes needs more stuff. Some can’t afford what they need.

Suave entrepreneurs search for a way to keep selling. We’ll lend you the money. You too can have stuff. For a price. It works. Everyone below the line buys in. The price is heavy. But the happiness it’ll bring will solve all of the problems of life. It does for awhile. Until the bills pile up.

Make your money work for you… that’ll help you out of your situation. Give it to me. If you give me enough, I’ll give you a little extra each month if you don’t touch it. The rich dump billions in and leave it alone. Their money grows. Everyone else deposit pennies, and they access it regularly. The banker thinks, I can make money off those who don’t leave their money alone. Each time they touch it I’ll charge them a fee. I can give part of that fee to the rich. The line is lowered again. The Dream is replaced with insomnia. More families splinter apart. And the rich keep getting fatter off the sweat of those still immersed in the Dream.

We need more consumers. Not a problem. Thousands are lined up at our doors. They want to pursue the American Dream. Good, they’ll work for less. They’re at the bottom rung. Those who are already on that rung fall off. They begin to drink. They venture down a path to more illicit substances trying to find escape. There is no escape. They find themselves alone and shunned. They blame their problems on those new to the land, instead of the flawed Dream. Their homes are broken and even more tragically, their children are no longer equal. The line is lowered some more.

As time goes ‘buy‘… and nearly everything’s been done, the Dream begins to turn into a nightmare for most, so, they gamble, buy lottery tickets and fall deeper into escape. More families fail as each generation becomes increasingly burdened by the weight of the pursuit. The immigrants did this to me. To us.

The rich party and their wealth is flaunted in front of us in the media. Athletes and celebrities make 100s of millions. Heads of corporations live lavish lifestyles. The media keeps smothering us with images of glamour and excess. Television proliferates what decorating a home, flipping a house, and dressing in the finest fashions can bring us. Happiness. We want it badly… happiness that is. Esteem is ripped from our souls. We all want to be millionaires. We all want to say DEAL.

We still need to keep those who haven’t fallen off the bottom rung happy, indebted. We’ll give them a pittance more, we’ll tell them if they work harder they too can climb. It’s not too late. They do, work harder that is, however, they’re too tired to think when they return home each night. Too tired and distracted to see what’s coming our way. They want to escape. They can’t. One job turned into two, even three, just to survive, something has to give. Families implode.

In the meantime corporations secretly look for ways to manufacture products at lower costs so those at the top can still bathe in gold. They tell the Dreamers they have no choice, our hands are tied, it‘s the global economies fault… we can’t afford you anymore. More fall off the step. Blaming China and India as they fall --- not the men at the top.

Crime and despair run rampant in the depths of destruction. Mostly against each other at the bottom. The rich are behind gates. More families fail as the currency of love for the shallow tear them apart. Beauty for women. Money, fame, and power for men. Beauty has an expiry date. Money keeps attracting more money.

Paranoia sets in. Our way of life is in jeopardy. What’s the definition of WAY, again?

Stuff?

We must keep others out. Protect what we have. We need a common enemy. We find one. Somebody to rally against. Something to distract our citizens from pain. War is the answer? It will unite us. It doesn’t, it divides us more than ever with children dying for an undefined cause.

We must examine our immigration policies the politicians shout out. It’s the Mexicans, the Chinese, the ~~Gays~~, the… who’ve created this mess. They’ve taken food right out of the mouths of Americans and they want to consume our resources. They’re the ones to blame.

Are they?

They work as janitors and in farmers fields. Americans realized long ago that was no longer the way to the top. Donald Trump reminds us of just that: Think BIG and Kick Ass in Business and Life. Some at the bottom try to keep the Dream alive and fill his pockets with cash. Most of the others at the bottom of the pool have given up and are just trying to ~~survive~~ escape. Their Dream has long died.

Oh my God!.. our infrastructure is about to collapse. Our highways. Our bridges. Our hospitals. Our… we can’t afford to pay Americans to fix it.

The middle of the pack, which is now near the bottom, still think that there’s hope. They’ll fight. They still want ‘High Definition’. They rally. The government recognizes the Dream is splintering apart. Many see through the sales pitch. The government hard sells the agenda: Our way of life is at stake, all you have to do to protect it is, trust me. *WINK*. I may take away your liberties. A bit of your freedom. I’m not a fascist. The enemy wants to destroy us. We must continue to fight.

If we don’t wake from the Dream, before we blink, our freedom may be gone. A short trip back into history and we’ll realize this scenario’s been played out before.

The WAY of life wasn’t supposed to be stuff. It was liberty and freedom. Family and friends. It was equality of mankind. Each part was supposed to be equally important. The enemy isn’t definable by the color of skin. The enemy is GREED.

The fatal flaw of the Dream: A janitor can never be a doctor, regardless of how hard he try’s. And, janitors are easily replaceable as a new willing addict is at our doors wanting a taste of the Dream. We reward money with money. How preposterous. Could we be applying the interest to the wrong end of the scale?

Can it be fixed?

I don’t know. Maybe this is just the way it’s supposed to play out. Maybe we don’t have any say in tomorrow. I refuse to buy that notion. Could it be time for us all to rally against greed? To value PEOPLE more than stuff?

Just imagine if a portion of the interest of those at the top was directed to those still struggling with the climb. Wouldn’t homelessness, and crime begin to vanish before our eyes as dignity and hope is returned to all those who’ve been left behind?

For me: What a beautiful Dream!

progress report

In an unprecedented move the powers that be at the 155 Challenge Head Office have decided to grant an extension due to the near meltdown of the test subject. A spokesman, Mr. Tulupsha, on behalf of 155’s president stated in a prepared statement: “Holly crap! That’s a kindling too much of life for one person to process in such a short time frame. 155’s pressures may send him over the edge. Family. No family. Sick. 555. Coping and the such, I think in this one case we need to extend the challenge period. I’m certain that Mr. Lindsay is not a melodramatic flaneur, and a whisp of compassion may help him reach his lofty goals. Therefore the an extension of fourteen days is in order. New completion date: January 3rd, 2008, making the challenge a 45 day journey. EXTENSION GRANTED!”

The 155 Head Office is located in:

Taumatawhakatangihangakoauauotamateapok-aiwhenuakitanatahu,

New Zealand. Population: it’s a hill --- whatever lives on it and it’s 85 letters. The long version 92 letters. Legend has it a man with big knees who swallows the land while playing his flute. Seriously!

A subsidiary office is located in: Whiskey Dick Mountain, Washington State, USA.

And, just out of curiosity, have you ever been to:

Fucking, Austria?

It’s located 32 k. north of Salzburg, “the hills are alive,” population 93. Apparently the town had to install theft-resistant signs to combat the problem of sign stealing.

To understand more on the etymology of the word FUCK, visit ask seed at http://www.askseed.blogspot.com/ and check out the table of contents. There you’ll find all you need to know.

For now (author credit below):

Fucking in Austria has a long history: Its oldest record dates back to 1070. As I have stated in my article about the history of Austria, Bavarian tribes migrated into the region of what is Northern Austria today in the 6th century. Even today you can still see how far they got (before they encountered Slavonic settlers in the South) by villages and towns that end on the suffix of “-ing” or “-ig”. This suffix refers to “community” or “people”. One of the Bavarian noblemen migrating into Austria was a man called Focko. I do not know how he got his name but hope that he was proud of it.

The Meaning of Fucking finally Revealed

The settlement that he ruled over referred to him as the landlord in its name: “Fockoing” therefore meant “community or people of Focko”. This is the etymologic origin of Fucking. Today, it is still little more than a settlement with a mere 91 residents (“Fuckers”?). The village, which is located in the district of Braunau am Inn, nonetheless attracts a lot of attention. Fucking often appears in the media – for some peculiar reason, it is usually English-speaking programs that pay attention to the village with the easy-to-remember-name. Personally, I like Rosanne Barr’s incredibly smart comments (“Do they know it’s a bad word?”) best.
Source: http://tourmycountry.com/austria/fucking.htm

All contents are copyright (c) 2006-2007 by Benedikt Mandl and TourMyCountry.com

Note: Although, one day we hope to have a head office, and if we did, the above locations would be peachy, however, we don’t. Well not entirely true, we actually do, it resides between my ears, and as mentioned, that area has been a little overburdened of late. Thus, an ounce of levity was required. Like fuck, don’t you think!?!

fitness fact/tip

listen to your body!

A weak installment. I know! I said I was down. Anyway, if you’ve got a bit of a cold or a fever, be cognizant of how you feel. Don’t be obsessed with fitness. Take the time to get better. Your body will thank you, and so will all those who you don’t spread your illness to at the gym.

consumed

day 15teen monday dec 3rd - day twenty-three tuesday dec 11th

Sick days: eating, sort of fasting. Sort of juicing. Sort of eating crap. Sort of drinking. Sort of sweating. Nothing much to see here. So move along. Tracking/fasting will recommence tomorrow...

randomness

Jim died.

I can’t help flash back to Jim. He died during the last update. He was seventy-two. A good man. He lived hard. He had a tough life. But still he was a decent man. We can’t forget that fact. I hadn’t seen him for about six months when he returned to work recently. Regardless of his absence, condition and age, he asked me on his first day back, “How’s your poetry going.”

At first I wanted to correct him, fortunately I quickly realized, who cares?.. I hadn’t seen him in six months and he remembered I write. That’s all that mattered.

We can all learn something from Jim: show interest in others.

When I told him, “It’s a tough grind and it can take a long time for results to come back.”

He kindly replied, “Don’t worry… you’ll succeed. You’ve got one thing that can’t be taught, talent!”

Not only did he show interest… he encouraged as well.

Thank you: JIM.

You will be missed. We’re all a bit better off for having known you.

people matter!

155: day eleven - 14teen

2007-12-02T14:54:00.000-08:00

155: day eleven - 14teen

nov 29th - dec 2nd

opening salvo…

I’ve decided to fast after all. Starting on Monday December 3rd I’m expunging food from my daily equation. Fruit juice, vegetable juice, juice-juice, water, and juice, will be all that adorns my breakfast/lunch/snack/dinner table. Calorie intake, I’m guessing: about 500 per day. I’ll now return you to our regularly scheduled programming!

The following pep talk is a combination of a new event in my life and a excerpt from my memoir: Russians, Clowns & Drag Queens (letters to ed). Silver-lining… a necessity! It is incredibly personal and it is part of my gift to you!

I hope you enjoy!

…end of opening salvo.

pep talk of the day

By December 20th 2008 I will achieve an exceptionally high level of health and fitness.

obligate

*Final notice for pick-up*
Parcel
Last day for pickup: November 30th

It can only mean one thing: the season of obligations has begun.

It's sad she's sick and may not have much time left. It must be excruciatingly painful for her, I don't know for sure as I can only speculate, to be absent from my life, and to not face the demons of her past and move forward with the present. She is my birth mother after all. She may however, not give a fuck!

She is now my living/dying mother. She's known I know the truth for almost four years and she still hasn't acknowledged that fact. My ex-family of brothers/sisters through a niece/cousin sent word to me that she is ill and likely dying. "Bernice has cancer and has had a stroke. It doesn't look good. She may not have much time left."

I paused. Regained composure - fighting back tears. "I'm sorry to hear that. I hope she's at ease." How could she be?

She's lived a life full of lies. I don't know what brought her to hide --- again, I could only speculate. I don’t know what could have possibly happened for her to run when the truth be told. I don’t know what prompted her to cause pain, instead of embracing possibility. I can’t understand. She’s never given me the chance. I feel sad for her. For me.

My niece/cousin continued: "Are you going to fix things with her. She's your mother."

Another pause. "Sweetie, how can I fix something that I never knew was broken. All I did was be born."

"She's your mother."

"All I did was be born. A happy ending isn't likely. A reunion when the only separation came from her heart and soul, can't exist."

Over forty years of this cover up, this ruse, and to now pretend some more and try to offer up explanation... impossible. I think. Where would one start? And if starting was a remote possibility, it would have to be her to initiate the first move... all I did was be born.

After the last key stroke of my ~~uncle~~ cousin - ~~niece~~ cousin conversation I retreated to the couch to regroup before work and I broke down. Tears flowed relentlessly as I became engulfed in my mothers pain. I became consumed by the charging emotions and swallowed with trying to understand why my life was never celebrated.

A letter was sent:

Dear B

Hello!

I don’t know where to start or for that matter what to say as I write this letter to you. The last several years have been filled with deep emotion and confusion over the facts of my life that had been kept secret from me ---- after all, I’m the one this news had the most impact on.

First off, Robyn has just informed me of your health concerns and as much as I worried one day a day would come where unbelievable emotional anguish would be thrust upon me and I’d have to come to terms with and learn how to cope and place meaning on the events of the past. I thought when this time came I’d grow hard and be devoid of emotions. That’s the furthest from the truth. After I was told, I lay on the couch and began to cry. It saddens me deeply that you are ill. I hope and wish you fight through and recover.

As I lay crying, thoughts were rushing through my mind. These thoughts have been pacing through my heart for the last several years. Anger, hurt, despair, confusion, heartache and many more emotions have at times been debilitating. I don’t understand what happened and why my life had to be such a secret to everyone. The secrecy held me back and must have been a tremendous burden on everyone who participated in the lie. I can’t say I understand nor will I ever. I’m not sure that I need to. I’m happy with who I am and who I’m becoming.

The pain of not participating in my life must’ve been unbearable at times for you. Do you not feel a need to clear the air? To have some semblance of closure?

For the longest time I wanted to scream at you. I was left to find out the truth about my life by accident. B, a civil servant told me after the worst two months of my life. It devastated me…

…B, I’ll never fathom why you chose to stay in my life. It wasn’t all good and it isn’t good now. The emotionless cards and gifts dig deep into my heart and inflict intense pain. I cry every time I receive them…

…That day I lay crying, I was crying because it was your responsibility to tell me the truth. Crying because you missed that opportunity. Crying because my mother stayed in my life and failed to be a part of it. Crying because you’ve missed my life. Crying because I can’t see a happy ending…Nobody helped me pick up the pieces. Nobody told me they loved me. Nobody said sorry. And most important, nobody acknowledged that everything in my life changed in an instant. Instead, my friends picked me up, dusted me off and told me that they loved me. I can’t explain how much that saddens me that it wasn‘t the family…

…It didn’t have to be this way. Get better. Be happy. I forgive you.

We can’t change the past, all we can do is control how we react to the present.

Wishing you a speedy recovery and much happiness in the future.

Love

Your Son Lindsay

Today I picked up the parcel. This year will certainly be different. It has to be. Open the package, no card. That’s odd. Usually it’s a picture of a tree or a horse or something, and upon opening, my name and the names of my ~~sister~~ aunt, ~~brother~~ uncle, ~~sister~~ mother, and a dog. God, my life has turned into a series of confusing flip-charts to help me define reality. The card must be inside of the gift. I don’t want to open it, but I need to see the card. Without a question this year there will be some sort of explanation: The times were tough when you were born. I was going through a difficult time. Something tragic happened and I don’t know how to tell you. I don’t even need a sorry, just some form of acknowledgment that they understand my life has changed. Something!

Silence, and a box, is what I’ve received. It hurts.

“It’s the thought that…”

Don’t go there. There is no thought present. Just more hurt.

I share this equation because it is much larger than just me. Believe me, this pain echoes loudly in the hearts of many as we enter the Christmas season. Others who’ve had to face why? I’m not crying about my situation. I’m just trying to put it someplace where it can slowly flicker away. I can’t, though. I can only hope to cope.

“You’re better off…”

Yes, but how can that be?

Obligation without love is a constant reminder. Maybe I’m being too dramatic. Maybe me and all the others struggling to find identity are clamoring to the wrong audience. And, that audience lay in congruence, replying with, “get over it.” I will. A lie. But I’ll still be okay. All I did was be born, like others, and it wasn’t our fault.

Some may blast: “You’re being selfish. You need to fix things. Give her peace. Forgive her. She doesn‘t know what to say to you.”

Perhaps, a little, and I have forgiven her, I’m just sad now. Time is running short and I think we may have missed the opportunity long ago. I cry.

The holidays are coming and alone without family seems to be the menu for the season once again. That’s okay. I make the best of it. You can, too. A full spread, turkey and all the dressings. Friends are invited, both close, and those I barely know who are removed from love as well. It’ll be a great day without obligation or condition. Well, not entirely, there is one condition: WELCOME.

I will survive and grow more loving from my experience. My heart will always remain strong. I have no choice in the matter. I didn’t write this part of my script. My only wish for Christmas and the years to come, hopefully, one day, I find the strength to let someone in.

what’s it all about?

The toughest question?

Answerless?

Life issues challenges we must overcome. Not without trials, tribulations, and the odd flat along the way.

Just when you think you have life intricacies under control, trauma may rear its ugly head. Once you pick yourself up, dust yourself off, you realize --- you don’t know squat, and maybe, that’s the way it’s supposed to be.

Sometimes the ones who are supposed to love you, unconditionally, don‘t, leaving you cold and broken. Magically, when you least expect it, a complete stranger may help you pick up the pieces --- without motive.

Love has no rhyme or reason. It grips us, consumes us, and it can leave us quivering in a corner, trying desperately to hold on. When it’s pure --- nothing’s more beautiful.

Some tempt fate and live long lives. Others live “cleanly” and are taken from us in a flash, leaving us: cynical, bitter and jaded.

The young can’t get there fast enough. They speed race, experiment with drugs, sex and alcohol. Some do it as an act of rebellion. Others because they‘re screaming out for love in our divorce filled world.

Adults place blame --- often missing the boat. It’s far easier to blame drugs, video games, society, etc…

Maybe it is the video games fault, I used to play “Pong” and afterward, I’d drive like a bat out of hell.

I’ve chased “gravy” and was once given a chunk of change --- compared to hearing: “I love you.” The money --- worthless.

The keys:

Live life to the fullest.
Understand love is out of your control. You can’t “win” love and if you could: it wouldn’t be love.
Accept that sometimes we need to say goodbye. You will if you love yourself.
Pursue your passions and don’t compromise the sincerity of the pursuit.
Rise above defeat and keep victories in hand.
Realize career and material goods are nothing more than fleeting at best.
Tell family and friends: “you love them”. Even if you struggle to find the words.
And, try to leave the world a wee bit better than it was than when you arrived.

The road is filled with pot holes, poor choices, blind corners, and the occasional flat. Sometimes several flats at the same time. Regardless of whether the flats were of our own doing or a product of fate, it’s time to get out the jack, pump up our hearts, souls, and egos and move forward.

Hopefully, there is a long road ahead filled with happiness.

As for me, I want to slow it down and share it with others.

In fact: I may park my car and walk.

Since I no longer play “Pong,” there’s no need for speed.

Seasons Greetings Friends. I wish you and yours all the best for the years ahead. And remember, be good to others, you never know what’s on their emotional plate. A smile and a friendly hello can go a long way to offering hope for the future.

progress report

I did a wee bit of slipping up on the progress this week. Things were going along famously and I tripped. I let a couple of dashes of depression sneak into the picture and threw some of the gains out the window. Luckily, the gains got caught up on the window lacings and are still within reach with a quick spin of the wheel. I don’t have window lacings. Hush!

“THE GIFT” came, from this point forward - if it is referred to again - it will be called: THE GIFT. I let THE GIFT dictate my spirit. I unwisely expected something that’s not there, leading to, a calorie smorgasbord, and beer, I know, I know, prohibition was short-lived, with the excuse of the unrelenting struggle to come to terms with life as the culprit. I’ve heard the struggle is called: LIVING.

I’ve managed to set THE GIFT aside for the time being, I must, as it’s important to regain focus. Doc., is up for Wednesday afternoon. Fasting is on the docks, beginning Tuesday.

“Hey, above you said, Monday?”

I know, but THE GIFT hit hard and it took me a day longer to discombobulate and come to a place where I could gesticulate my disapproval of my slip.

Gestures aside: I will reach the goal. I’m the test-subject --- it’s important for my mental well-being. 155 here I come. Soon I will turn pain into comedy.

OUCH!

You can’t keep me down for long --- I’m writing the script now!

Positive came from my near fall from grace --- I got to hang out with a great young man for a bit on Sunday, Peter. We shared experience. Discussed what matters. He’s in the process of putting his life into perspective and deciding what matters to him. I can’t imagine what that is like for someone his age in today’s world. I see some of me in him. We overanalyze and forget to enjoy.

Another friend, Scottish Andy, on Saturday night while I was storytelling, broke into my thoughts, “Lindsay, you’re without question filled with passion. That’s a great thing. Slow down. Breathe. Don’t forget to enjoy.” He then hugged me and smiled. He wasn’t judging. He’s a good man. In fact: this is the second installment of him in my writing.

Twenty minutes later another individual stated., “You’re one of the funniest people I’ve ever met.” I’m not sure what I was saying or doing, apparently it was gold.

“Nah. Go on now.”

“Seriously. Hilarious! May I kiss you!?!”

“Not right at this moment.” Served with a smile. That was certainly an interesting moment. I guess I’m breathing. Smile.

In my time with Peter, I was continuously grinning. It was brilliant listening to someone who is trying to find meaning. Selfishly, it removed me from doing so my self. I thank him for that. He’s a bright guy, he’s aware of what matters, for the most part (in my opinion), I hope in his journey he smiles more than he frowns. He’s leaving Vancouver soon, our loss, he’s got family and friends who are important to him and he misses their support back home. I admire that sentiment.

As my the world was spinning around me, and I was letting it drag me down, Peter’s presence helped for a moment pull me away from me. And, who I’m becoming became more important than what may not exist. I relaxed. Friends are so incredibly important. Even if the friendship is just for a moment.

“Lindsay, you’re so easy to be around. Calming.” Magical words to hear. I’ve heard them before. I think I’m a tad crazy --- racing out of control. Maybe I’m not so much. A tad is a good thing, though --- it helps suppress trauma. It’s great to hear someone think my traumas are under control. They’re not so much.

The point: I’m not going to let a slight step backward detour my movement for too long. I refuse to be hard on myself. I’ve got a long road in front of me. My challenge is not just for me, it’s for anyone who comes onboard for the ride. My part is simply to focus ---and see where that focus takes us!

Last thought on the progress: I’m backing off of this weeks weigh-in, it has now been rescheduled for Saturday, December 8th. And, I think when you read below, you too will cut me some slack on my slip-up.

fitness fact/tip

Regular exercise helps to lift your spirits!

On the other end of the fitness/exercise spectrum, far away from the obsess of, “Do you mind if I work in with you? Share the bench?”

“No. I’m super-setting. I’m using every weight in this area. Gotta blast my pecs! Add an inch to my guns of death. I need all of these weights.” Is a place where fitness and exercise lives in harmony with a healthy lifestyle. It’s a place of balance and understanding. A place where you realize it’s a life long commitment to the betterment of self and a means to help you live life to the fullest. Once you draw this conclusion, then, and only then, will you truly gain the countless benefits from your fitness regimen. HEALTH IS A LIFELONG THING. An extra inch on the pipes of impending doom, for the most part, pointless.

To get that particular headspace of health, first off, it’s best to spend most of your time participating in activities you thoroughly enjoy. Be that, tennis, skiing, golf or even dancing. If it happens to be weight-training, so be it, just be careful, and if you find yourself trying to catch a glimpse of yourself off any thing that creates a reflection… it may be time to think over who you’re really working out for.

Fitness has helped me to deflect the proliferation of challenges which have come my way. It’s offered a place of escape, a respite. Most important, keeping in reasonable physical condition has gone a long way to helping me stave off depression. It’s an absolute necessity. I struggle with it.

Depression takes on many forms. Poor eating (fast-food). Too many cervezas. Sometime questionable sexual practices which strip away your soul. And even trips further into the dark side… where all roads lead to destruction. Support may be absent for you depending on your situation, however, regardless of circumstance, positive has to trump destructive. Thus, it’s paramount to stay aware of down lingering in your life. Fitness is a tremendous way to do this. Betterment of self complete with the endorphin rush is a blessing not to be overlooked. Food, alcohol, sex, drugs & rock n’ roll, only cloud over reality and often make tragic, fatal.

Why the trip to a depressive state?

This weekend I stumbled across an article in the local paper:

How many stress factors do you have in your life!
(Dr. Dave Hepburn).

The good Doctor has put together a ‘stress meter’ to help troubled souls to determine if the loads of daily life are leading to…

On the stress-meter a bench mark of 300 points is used to determine the likelihood of serious illness coming ones way. Forty-three events are listed ranging from: Death of a spouse; to pregnancy; to change in social activities; to Christmas; all the way to minor violations of law. In 2003/04 when a bright light was shown on my life and a fog of secrecy began lifting --- leading to a fractured truth, I scored 495 on the scale… not good. Current year, 2007, by all indications, as sad as this is to say, I’m okay to be teetering on the edge. This year alone my list of events to date is as follows:

Death of a family member x 2*.
Personal injury or illness.
Laid off at work.
Poor health of a family member x 2.
Gain a new family member.
Change in financial status.
Change to different line of work.
Change in work responsibilities.
Outstanding personal achievement.
Trouble with boss.
Change in work hours/conditions.
Change in sleeping habits.
Christmas

Surprisingly, parents coming back to life, family alienation, a relentless effort to get my manuscript published, meeting your father for the first time, having to tell your father who you’ve just met that he’s not your father, discovering your mother is sick and dying (for the second time), and the constant “your challenges are no big deal, so, get over them. A lot of people have their parents come back to life with one denying the fact that she’s your mother and the other who wanted the responsibility of his role only to have the role extracted by DNA.” Are not on the list.

*My mother is dying and the day I found out my father wasn't my father was like my father died again have been placed in: the death of a family member category.

As for my 2007 score to date: 555. I don’t want the fucking high score. My life isn’t Pac Man, and I don’t even care if the Pac Man reference has dated me. In this instance, I’m pretty certain high score ain’t such a good thing. “Hey I just scored 950 on Dr. Dave’s stress meter.” Smile. Gasp.

Nudge, nudge, “He just kind of dropped. I don’t think he’s breathing. Hey mister… mister, wake up. Oh well, at least he finished with the high score."

I think more life would be better.

Bingo!

To get there sometimes we have to admit that we might not be okay. And, that’s okay! It’s a great starting point and being in touch with yourself, brilliant, something many never take the time to do.

Whatever challenges come rolling, blasting or crashing your way, please don’t forget to take care of yourself… I have at times and the end result --- I end up feeling like crap and have brought another potential catastrophe to my door. Without care… and without health, nothing else matters. And besides, whether we know it or not, some fantastic people, both new friends and old, love each and everyone of us and want us to remain in their lives.

Bonus morsel:

Part of the tripping up program these few days lead me to accidentally eating the bonus morsel. Sorry!

consumed

day eleven thursday nov. 29th

B’fast: ½ glass mango smoothie. 90
V8 Go 90
*Bread Garden Blueberry Muffin 640
Lunch: Toasted chicken sandy. 350
60 grams peanuts. 360
2 iced tea. 300
Juice Blueberry & Pomegranate (glass). 120
Dinner: chicken 300 g. (223 c 100 g.) 525
Peas 80
Rice (classics) 1.5 servings. 180
2 iced tea. 300
G total for the day. 3005 glutinous day

day twelve nov 30th

B’fast: Blueberry Pomegranate 110
Sobee Green Tea Iced Tea. 120
Blueberry scone. 150
Lunch: Vera Burger w/cheese 630
2 Iced tea. 300
30 gms. Peanuts 180
4 pints 600
2 slices spicy chicken pizza 300
G total for the day. 2390

day 13teen Saturday dec 1st

B’fast: Blueberry Pomegranate 110
Lunch: Toasted chicken sandy. 350
60 grams peanuts. 360
2 iced tea. 300
Oops… 4 more pints 600
Popcorn. 360
G total for the day. 2080

day 14teen Sunday dec 2nd

book update

I took the time to write the good Dr. above --- updating him on my “stress score, and doing a wee bit of networking.

love is in the air

Nothing new to report this week.

financial forecast

Scallywag.

randomness

I flash to the future, Tuesday, December 4th. How?

I’m a little behind on the updates, I talk/share a lot, and my slow formula has allowed me to venture into the future, gain some information, and post it in the past.

One of my fellow drivers, Jim, seventy-two years old, just returned to work after being absent for quite some time. His absence was due to illness. You could see an uneasiness with being back as he was trying to fit in again, and needs the income for his survival. He asked a lot of questions and his return may have reduced the workload for the rest of us, basically, reducing our pay. At first I felt frustration. My finances are okay, but they’re fragile. I am an aspiring writer after all. After a day passed my frustration subsided. There’s lots of work to share, and besides, the job is just a sign of what my “real” mother always told me, “you’ll never amount to anything.” Not that there is anything wrong with the work --- I’ve learned gads about compassion and the importance of looking deeper without judging. The world, in my opinion, though brilliant, is troubled. The lost souls I drive cement that fact. And unfortunately for most of them --- they’re stuck in the cement and they don’t know how, or want to, pry themselves free. Their pain has for the most part become their identity. I don’t want it to be mine.

Jim died a week ago. I was told on this day. The news numbed me. I didn’t know him all that well, however, for about a year we chatted nearly everyday. We’re from different swatches of life, but that doesn’t matter. Nevertheless, his passing hit home, “Jim died. A week ago.” I interjected into the statement inquiring whether their was a service for him. “No. People don’t do things like that very often anymore.”

Jim died. There has to be more to the end than two words, doesn’t there?

I need to get unstuck, lower my stress score --- it’s imperative I purge, and refocus on good. I’m a good man. A kind man. My family is missing my life --- all of us lose and I just feel sad for them. My story just represents my attempts to dissemble the new evidence, wash it, absorb it, and put it away somewhere out-of-site. I must share it! Telling it is part of becoming aware.

Becoming aware allows me to turn it into comedy! I will in a bit. *SMILE*

My first drive of this morning, during a near-monsoon, I hit a pot hole dead on. Fucked a rim and a tire*. I remained calm. I think I need to stop being calm. I need to find a way to let some things go!.. It’s time. I’m just not sure how?

My family is gone --- I need to accept the love of others. I give much. I think. I must drop my guard. “I’m easy to be with. Calming.” Accept it.

Another friend who lives in LA, has called repeatedly, “Are you okay? I’m worried about you.” Fantastic!

My closest friends, I’ll mention two here, Wayne, Greg… call regularly for updates, “Thanks for making me laugh, Lindsay.” Wow!

Two strangers as I staggered off prohibition and had a few pops this past weekend, “I know you…You’re the writer guy, right? We met about three years ago. It’s good to see you again.” Likewise. “It’s great to see you, actually. We owe you a big thank you! We were sitting at opposite ends of the bar and you were in the middle, without effort you orchestrated the conversation including the two of us. We’ve been best friends ever since. Thank you!”

Really? I thought. I felt a chill. I really didn’t do anything out of the ordinary. Really!

My story is numbing --- I will survive. I will push forward, gaining compassion with each step.

*Could my tire/rim tragedy be a product of a recent ask seed posting: Mr. X Saga - part five. Check http://www.askseed.blogspot.com/ for details. In a nutshell, I may have challenged the big entity above. I may have used strong language. I’m certain I questioned the path we’re being led on. And I know I may have…

Anyway, I’m not anti-deity, I just think perhaps, just perhaps, the coffee breaks upstairs need to be shortened, and hanging around celebrities in trouble, athletes and politicians, may not be the best use of time.

“Paris, how do you feel now that you’re released? Are you changed?”

“I found God on the inside.”

Really?

Last thought before my trip to the depression shredding gym: In the same ask seed answer I may have suggested some fresh rules to live life by. I think I suggested for non-compliance: you don’t get to play anymore. I want to make it abundantly clear: I don’t mean to eliminate life from the rule breakers. Instead, I think part of the platform could be turning Australia once again into a colony of hooligans (we’ll offer new homes to the current residents who’d choose to leave, if they don’t want to live amongst hooligans). We’ll take away all modes of transportation that allow leaving. This way they can play by there own rules and not effect the lives of others. And I’m 99.9999% certain the Big Guy will pay them a visit!

I almost forgot --- sex is fine, just be safe, never manipulative, and as long as you’re not hurting anyone, including you, have fun! It’s a beautiful part of life!

be happy!

155: day eight - ten

2007-11-28T09:21:00.000-08:00

155: day eight - ten

november 26 - 28

pep talk of the day

hold your own hands once in awhile.

On November 27th, I called my doctor to cancel an appointment for the 28th. Ironically, I wasn’t feeling well, prompting the cancellation

“Lindsay, you haven’t seen us for a long time now?” His receptionist asked over the phone.

“Yeah, it’s been at least three years.”

Inquisitively with a touch of concern in her voice, “Have you been seeing someone else? Another doctor?”

“No… no. Nothing much on the health front has come up.” I lied. I did have a touch of permanent-lung-damaging pneumonia. And, a persistent arm rash that needed ointment… expensive goop to clear it up.

On the second visit for the rash that I made to the doctor (Dr. Mitchell) who I was two-timing my real doctor with, I pressed him for answers, “Doctor, this rash it won’t go away. Is it anything to worry about? I’m starting to think I may have leprosy.”

“No… it’s nothing. The cream I’m prescribing should clear it up in no time.” Now smiling. “And yes, you do have leprosy. I just didn’t know how to tell you… I guess, I just did.” What a fun doc!

“No! Dr. Musial will always be my doctor.” Calming the receptionists concerns. He knows my whole story, therefore, I’m not going anywhere. Am I dating him? He’s a great guy, and I do kind of miss him in a doctor/patient sort of way. He did buy me flowers and chocolates once, presented to me after a prostate exam.

“What’s this, oh my, you shouldn’t have.” Blushing profusely. He hadn’t. Another lie.

It was time to come clean. “I did go to the clinic down the street from my house a couple of times. But it was nothing. Really. No connection. It was after office hours. No wining. No dining. No kissing. It was just what it was. I promise I’ll never go again. I made a mistake.” Everything after, times, embellished.

Appointment rescheduled for next week… it was time to move forward with 155. Discouragingly, this has been a tough week. I’m crashing. Feeling beaten down. The challenge is going swimmingly, it couldn’t be going better, and for the most part my healthy eating has refreshed my taste buds, bringing them back to functioning. And God, my tummy, primarily the bellybutton, a second one is starting to materialize --- a sign of the beginning of svelte.

Why so glum?

Here comes the dark clouds of…

Because I’m scared. Because I’m scarred. I’m pretending to be okay… I’m not. I’ve been trying to implement my own advice for quite some time now by saying, “I’m doing well,” I’m not. I feel like I’m on the verge of collapse. I’m feeling as if my time is running out and is about to expire.

I fucking hate our world. I hate evolution… I mean the lack of any identifiable evolution. I can’t see it? Can you?

I spin positive… all the time, like pretending to be okay, I think I might be lying, to me. How tragic?

What deposited me here? Where has the hope gone? How do I get out?

I don’t know ---- I think what scares me the most is if I was to die NOW, nobody would notice. I know that’s not true. And I know I’ve impacted others in a positive way, for the most part, I think. It’s also not fair to lay these festering, languishing, and destructive thoughts on those who’ve had my back for all of this time. I need to fool them the most to make sure they continue to be smothered in the belief that my ship will come in. I do it. I think. I’m not so certain I believe my grift anymore. As for positive, what a load of…

“You sure suck at pep talks.”

“Who asked you?”

I don’t know why I’m having so much trouble getting past no longer having a family?

What a ridiculous question… I almost had a dad again, and I do have brunkles and sis-aunts, and a dying-living mother… they just don’t want anything to do with me. Harmony has been lopped away from that portion of life and now I’m trying accept a family not sharing blood. I’m lucky, my friends are beautiful of heart.

My near dad, wanted the role, he represented a new beginning after many years of confusion. He wanted the role! One simple test freed him of that responsibility and left me standing alone. Here comes the holiday season. I’m not sure if I’ll survive it. Of course I will. Another lie? Another con job?

I’m pissed at myself. Two days off a week from fitness for rest. Blue has turned that into four and counting. Tomorrow I’ll pick it up again. I can’t stay down. I can’t stay down.

Back to my doctor, next week. Physically, I’m fine. I think. I’ve booked the appointment to update him on my life. He’s good. He understands. He thinks I’m incredibly intelligent, almost a… I’ve tricked him. I’m good at tinting reality. That’s why I rescheduled, don’t want to show weakness, want to be strong so I can sell him on me. I want to be fucking good enough for the first time in my life. Can’t let him see that I’m doing a job that I hate and if something doesn’t come from my passion in creating soon, I’ll have to pretend again and add a second unfulfilling job. What a fucking mess. I’m forty-seven. I know I look much younger. I thank alcohol and sleep deprivation for that. I’ve even grifted age. I’m sure one day that play will unravel.

“Hello mirror. Oh my God… I look one-hundred.” Die now please.

“Quit feeling sorry for yourself.”

You’re right. It’s not a good course. I try not to, if you’ve read me right, you know that I avoid doing so. And, if you know me personally, there’s no question, positive, at least on the surface, reins supreme. However, it’s as each corner I turn I walk into a gossamer floating delicately in the air, the only problem as faint as the web is, I can’t break through it. I’m stuck. I seem to have been trapped for the last four years. I want my family… at least I want to belong. I don’t, and I never will.

I wanted my father to be alive again. It built for over three years. Not a day went by without me thinking, what if? We bonded. There was a certainty to it. A new corner was coming and the air was about to clear. There was uncertainty in the new route ---but excitement and new was to color the consistency of the unknown in bright uplifting shades.

I remember one day this past summer, my dad, during an effortless phone conversation, reaching through the lines and caressing my heart. He wanted to accept his role, pick me up, and begin our relationship. I never new I was down --- at least not until found out the truth. Anyway, after sharing our tales of life, and apologizing for his absence, it wasn’t his fault, in an attempt to ease my… he said, “Lindsay, what I want you to do from time-to-time, hold your own hands. I’m so sorry for whatever the lies have done to you. I want your pain to end. You’re a great man. Positive. Strong. I can’t imagine what this process is like for you. It can’t be easy.” My dad was… being a dad. A first. “Sit. Hold your own hands. Cause, if you’re holding your own hands, it’s impossible to lie to yourself. Lindsay, you’re a great man. I’m honored to be your father.” I didn’t know what the process was doing to him?

As you know, we met, he’s not my dad. Christmas is coming. My mother is dying. And, I don’t want my friends to carry my burden. I want to be strong and positive. I don’t want to cry. I want a home filled with love. But, and this may be selfish, I don’t know if I can be around another family that shows it.

In the perfect world, my new non-dad and I would stay in touch, forge a relationship… it’s a wonderful thought. Nothings perfect. He lives in another city, he’s got his own children, he’s seventy-two, and he’s not my dad. Our relationship was nothing more than a desperate fantasy which will quickly fade away. It’s just the way it is.

My friend Stevie and I went for lunch recently. Stevie and I are polar opposites. It doesn’t matter. We’ve bonded and share a genuine love. I shared my story, I was in an up mood. I tried to find comedy in the pain. “Stevie, for most of my life I was a mix of Romanian/ Scottish. For a bit when my parents came back to life, I wasn’t sure of my heritage. When dad was found, I became British/Romanian. Now, since dad, isn’t dad, I don’t know what or who I am? Maybe I‘m Jamaican?”

“Lindsay. You’re just, Lindsay. That’s more than good enough.”

I’m going to my doctor next week. When I’m feeling better. I want him to know the new chapters of my story.

He shares my past with his colleagues and he’s in awe with what’s transpired thus far --- along with my ability to process it. Another grift on my part. He’ll make me laugh. He’ll shake his head in understanding disbelief. And he’ll tell me I’m doing great. I’m not. I just pretend.

At least my visit will show him that I’m going to stay. I want him to be my Doctor.

I’m going to hold my hand for a bit tonight and spin positive thoughts. I must. I’m no good to anyone if I’m feeling sorry for myself. Tomorrow, down will blast to an end, at least for this bout of it, and tomorrow… I’ll smile again. I hope!

Out dark thoughts. Out dark thoughts. Out depressive bouts. Out…

I will allow love, happiness, health and prosperity into my life. I deserve it!

Hollywood’s gotten one thing right: Happy Endings!

progress report

“Wow. Your pep talks, suck.”

Well, life isn’t always easy, and my new realities, which happen to mirror my past realities, are fresh. Time hasn’t eased the surge of hurt, yet. One day it will!

As for fitness/health progress: I lost a couple of days of training due to my mental state and the corresponding dysfunction. That’s okay, if obsession had taken over my training, I’d try to make it all up in the next couple of days. I won’t. I’ve got a lot more life left, and it’s okay to spread near-perfection over the rest of it. Guffaw!

“You’re talking about your progress, aren’t you?”

“Oh yeah. This week I’m only weighing myself once, Saturday. My goal is still to shave off 8 lbs and drop to 164 lbs --- which may be a stretch now. My calorie intake has been decent. A bit over my mental goal of 1500 per day, yet, still far below the 2500 allowable. If I was a betting man: I bet I’ll only drop below 170. I’m not.

I’ve got three days left to work out and cut calories… I’m gonna make it. You’ll see. Tomorrow I’m only going to eat air. If a burger or some tuna or anything else happens to be levitating in the air I eat, so be it. I’ll keep you posted.

Last thing: I’m only weighing myself once this week as a means of suppressing obsession, and damn it!.. A couple of blind days is fun and helps me to hone my awareness skills.

And quit your kvetching* about my pep talks, it’s called life. If you have any life issues you’d like some direction with visit http://www.askseed.blogspot.com/ where you may find some answers!

fitness fact/tip

Muscle burns fat!

Now that you have a bit of a handle on the consumption of food, understand that spot reduction doesn’t exist, personal goals are just that: personal, and that there is a fine line between obsession and a healthy lifestyle, which includes fitness. It’s now time to kick start your metabolism.

Sit back and grab a nice glass of antioxidant rich red wine. Maybe some almonds. Good. If you recall from one of the beginning posts, 1-fat gram = 9 calories; 1-protein gram = 4 grams.

What does this mean to you?

“Look at that blubber fly.”

Since you’ve started to consume much healthier foods, and have an awareness of allowable consumption, and you’re working out like a crazy non-obsessed ~~dog~~ (wo)man, by this time your baby fat will be beginning to melt away. That is if you’re holding your own hands, and if you’ve included resistance training as part of your program.

Muscle weighs more than fat!

Muscle is much more efficient than fat!

More efficient translates to burning more calories all of the time, 24/7. Fat just hangs, that is it’s only responsibility. Droop, droop, drooping, clogging, esteem wrenching, death-defying fat. Carrying excess speeds up your heart, brings lethargy to your ~~door~~ pants and together they slow the embers of burn.

Muscle does the exact opposite, and a more efficient body helps you to get through the day enjoying whatever life brings your way, without the added panting of fatness.

Sure, cardio training is great, however, if you want to seriously change your body, a combination of resistance and cardio training is required. You probably know people who jog/swim every day, and although they dump pounds, they still carry around a helping of extra-loose girth, the dreaded last few pounds. Resistance training is needed to tighten the girth and it is a vital part of any health and fitness program.

“You mean if I work-out with weights my forks will lose their racing stripes?”

Well…

More on the benefits of weight training in a future chapter. Including: muscle vs. tone.

Bonus morsel:

I caught an episode of the “Biggest Loser” the other night. Oh my God! And I’m Spiritual, not religious. First off, I’m not so sure I like what the name implies, perhaps a more positive title would be a better option. But if it helps these folks change their lives and they are not left to their own accord afterward, brilliant. If they are just ratings guinea pigs… I guess at least they’ve had a great opportunity to learn.

Anyway, some off the contestants are coming close to losing a me. Translation: losing my current body weight. Mind boggling! Look at others and imagine if they were carrying another you --- only to lose it in three months, how the bleep could anyone let themselves get so obese?

Unbelievable. I wish them the best for the future. In all honesty, most of the contestants should’ve dropped dead long ago. Really, unbelievable, a whole me!

consumed

day eight:

B’fast: ½ glass mango smoothie. 90
500 ml. Chocolate milk. 320
30 g. Peanuts. 180
Lunch: Toasted chicken sandy. 350
Juice Blueberry & Pomegranate (glass). 120
Dinner: pork chops 340 g. (223 c 100 g.) 670
Corn. 80
Rice (classics) 1.5 servings. 180
G total for the day. 1990

day nine:

B’fast: ½ Arthur‘s green smoothie . 130
Lipton green tea iced tea. 120
Blueberry muffin. 135
Lunch: Fat burger grilled chicken/cheese. 470
2 Iced tea. 300
30 gms. Peanuts 180
Dinner: pork chops. 300
Corn. 80
Rice (classics) 1.5 servings. 180
Juice Blueberry & Pomegranate (glass). 120
G total for the day. 2015

day ten:

B’fast: Tasty green goodness smoothie. 150
Chocolate milk 170
Blueberry muffin. 135
Lunch: three poached eggs 380
2 Iced tea. 300
60 gms. Peanuts 360
Dinner: chicken 200 gms. 350
Iced tea. 150
Peas. 80
Rice (classics) 1.5 servings. 180
Juice Blueberry & Pomegranate (glass). 120
G total for the day. 2375 piggy - piggy.

book update

Nothing new, except I’ve cranked out a couple of articles to: The Washington Post and The Christian Science Monitor.

love is in the air

Just a question for the day: How many sexual encounters does someone need to have before they start losing their soul?

Check the right hand side of the Blog for a place to vote.

financial forecast

I’m a bit scared. I need some (see book update/freelance writing) results or I may need to subsidize my income by working at a Drive-thru. Argh… or perhaps, milking cats. Or performing… in front of busloads of Japanese tourists.

randomness

I phoned my great friend, Danielle, on the day that I was meeting my father for the first time. “Danielle, this his so incredibly emotional. I’m meeting my father today. I hate my life at times. It’s so tiring when people ask what’s new? I sometimes want to lie. I don’t want everything to be about me. You know me… I want boring. I’m meeting my seventy-two year old father today. Can you believe it? Why does it have to be about me?” And then I paused to breathe.

“Lindsay, we just go to the store.”

I don’t want my life to be boring. Although extreme, I haven’t scripted most of the plot. I don’t think any of us truly do. Destiny vs. choice?

I lean toward destiny, at least when family is involved in the picture.

My heartache in the pep talk is just the way it is supposed to be, all I did was be born. And of course events like meeting dad, was going to impact me significantly. When I said the lack of evolution scares me, i meant:

Life can be mother trucking difficult to understand, it’s meant to be, and if it isn’t now for you, it likely will be later. Sorry to tell you that. If not… you’re lucky, or perhaps, not living.

I share mine with others, because certain aspects of it don’t belong to me and are much bigger than my issues. Lots of people… and I believe lots have to deal with heartache, maybe not as bizarre as mine, everyday. And, it is important to talk and work your way through it. In my case, type. Where the lack of evolution comes in, mankind seems to have developed a harsh demeanor, ADD., and the acceptance of crap has left a lot of people scathed, and instead of trying to understand somebody else’s pain, “Hey, what’s on television?”

I’ll be okay… I have no choice. It’s important. I’ve got a mission to complete. Others need to laugh. The toughest part of my journey: have you ever wanted something so bad that you could taste it, it tastes sweet, and when it came out to be true, life instantly changes direction with an amazing ride about to unfold before you. My ride stopped. It never started. Not entirely true, three years of preparing for it did occur, unfortunately, it ended with the opening of a letter. Three years and BOOM GOES THE DYNAMITE! It’s all over.

Emptiness.

And in that instant, by remaining unchanged, my life has changed more than I can even imagine. Talking about it is the only way for me to find meaning, in the process, I hope it lets others know that they’re not alone. At the very least, I hope the odd twist of bizarreness, brightens someone’s day!

*Kvetching was used because it is about time we all realized we all bleed the same. We for the most part have the same needs: love, family, love, hugs, love, family, eating, living, etcetera, and with the holidays upon us, let’s dump the political correctness regarding “Merry Christmas.”

Translation: Special interest groups… drop the fucking act. Most people are okay with others just being happy!

Be kind to others because pain may be hiding behind their eyes.

155: day six/seven

2007-11-26T19:05:00.000-08:00

155: day six/seven

november 24/25

pep talk of the day

chicken or the egg?

Action comes before motivation!

I will allow success and love into my life… I deserve it!

Without a first move there can be no success. Most of us at times struggle with motivation and we’re draped with the heavy cloak of procrastination. We get caught spinning tomorrows in our vocabulary endlessly until tomorrow never comes. The weight of life’s cloak may become too heavy to carry, and what’s most important: the most difficult things to tackle, get buried.

We’ve all been there, whether it’s dropping a few pounds, making a difficult phone call; hey Mr. Bill Collector, two things; I’ve overspent and can’t afford to pay you back, and; aren’t you responsible for overextending my finances with your slick promotions and your need to up your quarterly profits? Anyway, can I pay you next..? Or punting* a broken relationship to the curb. I’m not happy. It’s not that Marge/Stan is a bad person, she/he’s not. And, I really love her/him. However, I can’t stand the way that…

Three years later and you’re still fat, miserable and broke: It’s not that Marge/Stan is a bad person. And… tomorrow I’m gonna hit the gym and dump my flab. You know, it’s hard to change, I’m comfortable. Sounds like justifications. Have you forgotten, miserable? Passionless? Stagnant? Living a marginal and unmotivated existence?

In my opinion: we’re behaving the way we’ve been conditioned. We’ve become pawns to many factors: family, school, corporations, the media, and tradition. We often do what we’re told without questioning the goals of those who are moving us around in the game of life. Until one day… we’re trapped, and comfortable becomes the easy way out. We still want more, but… tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow ---talking a big game with every breath we take.

That’s where action and motivation come in. We can have whatever we want from life! IF! If we break free of our conditioning. If we set our own definitions. If we take the good from the game while at the same time learning quick lessons from the bad --swiftly filing the bad out-of-site. And, most importantly, if we realize action always comes before motivation.

Whatever challenge/crisis we need to overcome, no matter how often we say, I’ve got to get motivated, progress will be absent from the formula until you take the first step, pick up the phone, or lift the first weight. The beautiful thing: once you do, with consistent effort the weight of the cloak begins to lift, life becomes easier, and marginal will no longer be part of life!

I may be a slow learner as that may be a simple lesson… I’m no longer a kid, apparently, when I was, I was a foundling. Perhaps that slowed my learning process. Regardless of the semantics I’m finally starting to move, hopefully in the right direction, which is part of the reason I share my progress with others. It’s a great way for me to keep moving and with each step I’m climbing out from the confusion of family and striving toward exceptional! It’s not easy, but I’m tired of talking a big game.

Sharing my health goals with you, if, You, are the one, You, who takes the time to read this, represents part of the movement. Not only does it help me to focus toward health goals, by bringing awareness to my life, but it also keeps me focused on writing, and the pursuit of something I’m passionate about. Including Seed’s & Euro Seed’s Brain Candy. We want to bring you an original, entertaining and enlightening Blog, where we share experiences… in a hopes to offer something relevant! Maybe even encouraging you to start moving and reaching for what you want most from life!

I wrestled with sharing another personal tidbit with you. I’ve decided that as part of my health goals, I’ve consumed my last drop of booze until after the completion of this challenge. What prompted prohibition?

Nothing really. It wasn’t a binge, a hang-over, discovering a tattoo on my ass, who the hell is Shaniqua?.. or anything else. I may fail miserably as the holiday season is bursting upon us. It’s just because I want to, and these updates help to keep me focused on the end goal. And besides, the Holiday Season deposits me in an emotionally charged place, I’m honestly frightened by the intensity it may bring this year (read ending in this Blog), and in that spirit, I think it may be best to imbibe with caution. If I do happen to fail with this portion of my challenge, I’ll let you know. If I do fail it will only be if my spirits are soaring!

*Relationships are not to be taken lightly. Especially when kids are involved. If you’re not happy, communicate, and only as a last resort, punt.

progress report

Today I must report a horrible defeat and a fantastic victory.

10 pounds in 6 days, mark my words. Day 6 has come and I hate to type this; I only carved off 7 pounds to tip the scales at 172 lbs… what a horrible defeat. No… stop that, what an amazing victory. 17 pounds to go 24 days to get there.

If that was the defeat, what was the victory, you ask?

Healthy eating has enhanced my sense of taste. Good food is yummy. I’m starting week two soda and junk food free. It’s been surprisingly easy. I’ve dropped from a 20+ year average of approximately a liter of coke per day… to nada, not a drop. And, I don’t even drink coffee to ensure I still get my caffeine fix. I do drive the occasional crack-head to jobsites as part of work responsibility… but no caffeine. I was told when I said that caffeine was being removed, “you’re crazy” “you’ll get pounding headaches” “you’ll go through withdrawal.” To date… no side-effects, except for the victory, beer, beer tastes great, I never knew. Unfortunately as my palate becomes cleansed I’ve decided to cut beer out (see above).

Next up for weight loss goals: by Saturday December 1st, 8 more pounds are to be removed. This will bring me to a near-svelte 174 lbs. Lofty I know, but what the heck!

fitness fact/tip

Rest is an important piece of the puzzle.

Fitness often leads to obsession. Some who embark on pursuing health goals get carried away and the race for perfection takes over. Perfection doesn’t exist! Just as our mirrors and mind trick us while we’re packing on the pounds… they do the same in reverse. Once we start working out, we want results now… and if we push that desire too hard we risk becoming obsessed and one dimensional. Fitness begins to define who we are and it has a propensity of becoming nearly as hazardous as the lifestyle that brought us to a need to move in the first place. If you catch the bug… the gym, track, pool, whatever becomes a second home --- isn’t necessarily a good thing.

Why?

Do you know this person, “Yeah, I did 2 hours of cardio today. I upped my bench press by 35 lbs. My squats… I can run… climbed the mountain…” Good for you! And, could you be more boring? It’s great that health is important to you, but isn’t family, friends, work, etcetera, just as important?

As much as I’m going to sound hypocritical here: what’s the rush?

It’s good to have goals and milestones, however, unless you’re a competitive athlete, I suggest keeping them humble, cause if you don’t, you may become the person mentioned above and you may be “hot” on the outside --- mangled on the inside, though.

The endorphin rush from fitness is a powerful thing, coupled with the quest for results puts people in a precarious place where if you get too caught up in the goal, often those in pursuit forget a vitally important factor in the quest, recuperation. Letting the body cool and recover so you can move forward. I’ve at times been guilty of just that, so to ensure that I don’t fall into that trap this time around… two days off per week for recovery, and on Sundays, I’m taking a break from tracking my consumption. I’m still going to be soda and junk free, however, if I happen to eat a whole chicken --- there’ll be one less chicken for you!

Back to fitness, but I want to get bigger, fitter, trimmer, I want the results now, not tomorrow…must work out… must work out… thinner now!

Again, good for you. The problem with fitness: the above dialogue can’t possibly be for you, and when you reach your goal, what’s next?

We all can only get so big, so trim, so fast, so… fucking obsessed. In my opinion the biggest challenge with fitness, and why so many people fail: there is no end point. If we reach a goal, great, but the bar can only go so high… if you don’t agree with that statement, enjoy your steroids, stock up on whatever the newest fad supplement is, and try to blast your guns into oblivion until they explode. Again, boring everyone you come in contact with along the way.

And in the end, a new fad, a new training method, a new… and eventually you fall off the fitness kick due to injury, a shrinkage in genitalia, depression, or your obsession turns into delusion.

Sounds tragic. It’s not, if you keep it in perspective and you actually plan to live a long life. And if you pick activities that interest you, you’ll keep boredom at bay and you’ll likely always have your goals in site… you don’t need to ever get there, cause if you do, now what?

Nothing comes after perfection and if you reach it you may as well…

Bonus morsel:

First tracking free Sunday… I almost ate a whole chicken. Thanks beer!

consumed

Day six:

B’fast: Tasty green goodness smoothie. 150
Lunch: Mexican Chicken Wrap 400
Snapple Iced Tea 190
Dinner: b’bque chicken breast 400
Spinach Grade A. 80
4 pints 600
G total for the day. 1820

Day seven/sunday, never-you-mind:

Today I step off the counting bandwagon!

book update

Next post will bring you a fresh update… I took the weekend off.

love is in the air

Some offers have come my way, I’ve not sure if I’m going to answer the door.

financial forecast

December is a big month for me. I’ll keep you posted soon.

randomness

Sorry about my lack of randomness, updates, love stories, and financial outlooks, I’m feeling a bit off… down is the correct term for it. I’m not certain whether I’m okay or not. I guess the last sentence may be a clue to the answer. More on my feelings in a future update.

Anyway, if you’d like to receive updates on my progress pumped directly into your inbox, scroll down this page and at the bottom left you’ll find a place to subscribe!

Do you think a monkey would see the benefit of riding a dog?

155: day four/five

2007-11-23T08:35:00.000-08:00

155: day four/five

november 22/23

pep talk of the day

Fuck!

I ATE TOO MUCH TODAY.

Depressed, is about to reappear. How could I over-eat? Am I weak? Don’t I see what the end goal will deliver to me?

I hope you’re enjoying the original art!

By overeating, I mean: I was cranking the daily calorie count around the 1800 mark. Today: 1900. I’m a…

…wait a minute, a brilliant success story. I’m still under the 2600+* allowable calories to maintain my glutinous, achieved weight. Therefore, I need to cut myself a bit of slack.

While we’re talking about allowable, we need to change our inner-dialogue. Life is meant to be fucking lived!.. we’re not supposed to become slaves to life! We don’t get it… we’re all self-absorbed and the only one who notices your excessive weight, you!

We think that if we fit into a societal based ‘model’, it will bring us everything we need. Please! I'll let you in on a little secret… everyone, and I mean, everyone, in the developed world, is self-absorbed. “I,” is the only thing we understand and that is what makes us all miserable.

Not too “Peppy,” yet, is it?

The point: unless you can change your perspective on your: life, body, genital size, career… etc., turning it into: I’M DOING THIS FOR MY FUTURE AND FOR MYSELF, your not doing it for the right reason. Translation: If your life or health goals are to try to manipulate, convince, sway, attract, catch, persuade, anyone else… you’re a shallow and selfish bitch/bastard. And if someone buys into your vanity, when it slips, bye - bye manipulator. How does it feel being exchanged for a newer sleeker model?

A radical suggestion for the manipulators and their pawns: A tower, shiny glass… thrusting high into the atmosphere! When you’re hot and shallow, you get to live near the top where you can constantly with a soul-sapping fervor do whatever you must to reach the penthouse. Surgeons occupy the floors just before the pinnacle so ass (not a misspelling) to nip and tuck, cut and carve until you’ve reached a near perfect shine. Then you get to die empty ---and fucking hot! A life rich in… As your skin sags and your belly bulges, you begin to fall… you can’t attain beauty no more so the fall continues: down to floor 51... filled with quick-fixes and radical diets. Doesn’t work. Floor 25: it’s looking hopeless… you can’t function as gravity keeps pulling you down when you want to soar back to youth. You can’t. Floors 10 - 5: diet, run, obsess, exercise, Botox, more exercise, 3 calories a day, energy drinks, fuck you… I’m still hot!., more exercise, a cut, a slice, a dice on floors 5 - 1 occupied by the butchers of beauty. Saved… I’m so young and beautiful again! “Hey, why’s your face so tight? Can you smile? Where’d your forehead go? Your fake boobs, huh… they droop, too. Who knew?”

“Fuck off. I’m hot.”

Sure you are. Sure you are. Snicker. Unfortunately, those who live in the shiny glass tower… unless they figure out where beauty and substance really come from, die there.

“Pep it up, Seed!”

Okay, it is time to understand that if you’re living a marginal life, usually based upon following the flawed societal norms, you’re probably living for others (see above). However, once a light goes on and you begin to realize that there is only room for one in the mirror, you’ll stop looking. Really, in the grand scheme of things… body, health, ego… is really a solo journey. A healthy ego is a good thing. An ego that is trying to manipulate, toxic.

Nobody else is noticing you! Period. They’re too busy trying to sell themselves. Don’t believe me?

Listen, six people, max, care about you. Except for those who want to change you or the ones who don’t think you are good enough. Living up to their standards!

That brings us to today’s pep talk: When you finally get that life is better shared, but not with those who keep trying to put you down, the ones who say, “if you only lost a few pounds” “made more money” “had better fashion sense” “provided me with what I need” and finally, conclude: I’m better off being healthy --- than facing morbidity, you get it! Your body is: YOURS! And, again, your inner dialogue is fundamental in your interaction with others. So: BE GOOD TO YOURSELF!. PUNT NEGATIVITY TO THE GUTTER. It does us no good.

Our Universe, and our World, are remarkable and beautiful anomalies. Too abstract to understand. We try! We fail miserably. Gods ego sees to that. Anyway, before I’m struck down for my opinion, they’re filled with brilliant, and morally decent people, and together we can take the world into the next evolution of mankind!

Really, I believe that! FUCK GLOBAL WARMING! Buying florescent light bulbs when 4-billion people live in limiting poverty, globally, and are just trying to survive… are you really buying the commercial? Ask the Dinosaurs!?!

Oh yeah… they didn’t have the media to…

…prop up our spirits… now that you get, You, is about You, and the only way that you'll be good to anyone else is if you start taking care of yourself emotionally, physically, spiritually, with a sense of community and a desire to…

…live an amazing life. And, the only way you can do that is by talking nicely to yourself. Translation: If you keep a commitment: silently pat yourself on the back. If you don’t eat crap: again, silently pat yourself on the back. If you go to the gym, share positive thoughts, hug, kiss and love others, pat… you get it by now. Keep telling yourself that you’re amazing --- then live up to it… if you buy into your magnificence… you’ll be part of the future.

Pepping it out: I just went through one of the emotionally draining experiences of my life, traumatic and tragic. I was spinning downward to destruction. But, at the same time I was trying to “roll” with my heartache. I was failing miserably, but trying to act unaffected --- to hide the scar, the hurt. One day at work, I threw out some meaningless banter, “I did a face-recognition program website… apparently I’m a 86% match for Whoopie Goldberg!” Meaningless, yes. To which I was met with: “Michael said that you are full of useless*** information.” Michael knew what I was going through. His comments cut to my heart and hurt deeply in the moment.

Really, that’s what you guys talk about when ~~I’m~~, when “we’re” not around. How did that conversation start: “That’s some useless information.”

“Yeah, I know. You know who else is full of useless information?”

Thanks. Thanks for defining friendship. You do know my Dad just came back to life and he wasn’t my Dad? Yet, you still found a way to put me down.

Anyway, my challenge to you: whether at work or play, stop participating in the bullshit, try it for a week, if someone says, “so, and so, said…” walk away and say you’re not interested. Negative talk about anyone… is fucking us all up. STOP IT!

This is where the challenge gets hard… NO MATTER WHAT!

And, at the end of the day, every time you get the urge: TELL YOURSELF THAT YOU’RE AMAZING INSTEAD!

Bye the way: The only reason I embarked on this challenge --- health = life, and I want to live for a long time!

Why?

Cause you love me!

*** 95% of information is useless… it’s important to understand that fact. If you do you won’t pretend to be so damn important.

progress report

Five days in and I’ve managed to drop to: 173.3 lbs a big silent pat on the back for me.

“Ouch.”

“Not so hard if you want silence.”

I’ve carved off an incredible 5.7 lbs in just 5 days, really only 4 as the weigh-in was the real starting point. And, I did this with eating and the consumption of beer. Translation: I kept living and scrapped the fasting idea, at least to the latter stages of this personal challenge.

I have worked diligently at the gym and have stuck to a brilliantly healthy eating plan, which is easy to do by the way. If you’d like to know something about my fitness regimen… blast me an email. You’ll find my addy somewhere on this site. I believe it is in the first 155 post.

fitness fact/tip

There is no such thing as spot reduction.

Usually when one realizes that they’ve girthed up and now have a belly-waving, thunder-thigh chaffing, toe-hiding, health-evicting consumption problem, they’ve been living in denial for quite some time and the last thing they see, belly, thighs, ass, is the first place they want to reduce.

If only it was that simple. It’s not. Denial has seen to that. The way we chunk-up is a slow laborious and committable process laced in savory sauces and delectable desserts. The mirror lies. Our eyes focus up... when growth is occurring down. A pound here. A pound there. No more room in the belly… where shall I go now? Some up… starting at the waist. Very little down… drooping below the ass. I’m looking good. Jaw solid. Arms tight . Biceps bulging. A little bit around the middle. Just a little. I’ll take care of it tomorrow.

Another sauce. Another pie. Burger. Fries. Burgers. Fries. Not in moderation. All you can eat. I’ll trim tomorrow.

Back at the mirror. Still hot. Hmm.. face is a bit fuller. Must be a virus. I’m retaining water. Biceps still bulging. Chest still hot. Seems like some company is coming just below my chest. Why are my pants tighter? Too much salt. That’s it. It’s causing me to bloat.

Off to a special occasion. A birthday party. A wedding. A… picture is taken capturing the moment. A copy is sent your way… fuck, that’s not me. You rush to the mirror. You scream. You turn sideways. You scream some more. You keep screaming. You turn back and face the mirror again. Fucker. You’ve been lying to me? Why? What do you mean I was focusing on the wrong place? I’ll cover you. What do you mean that won’t solve the bigger problem? Yeah, my food no longer tastes good. Burger, burger, burger, burger, fries, fries, fries, fries with cheese curds and gravy and big drinks. All bland. I’ve what… reduced food to a habit, not something to take pleasure in? My God, I’ve got ear flab! Scream relentlessly.

Come to think of it most of your extensive and expensive wardrobe has been sitting gaining fashion rust in the closet for many months now. You’ve retreated to your comfy, loose fitting jeans, and belly covering shirts. You’re mind was in on this with the mirror. Today, loose fitting has been stripped from you and soon it will be sweats. You could quit. Don’t. You’ve got too much to offer to yourself to be that weak. So, you make a commitment. Exercise… healthy eating and a return to svelte.

I’ll do 100s upon 100s of abdominal exercises and get me back in no time flat.

If only it was that easy. It’s not? No. Look in the mirror again. See the ear flab? Well, that is the last place you put it on… so it’s the first place it comes off. The crunches and sit-ups will help, only in a calorie burning sense. Who knew crunches would reduce ear flab?

Sure, they may help build a strong core, unfortunately my friends, if you’re like me, it’s no longer a spare tire, instead, it’s a stack, which means the more cluttered the belly-warehouse got, the more places a slowing metabolism looked for to place excess and before we admitted it to ourselves we’re getting unhealthy, fat.

The more weight we stack on the more every area of the body takes on. It starts with the belly, moves up, a little more for the belly, arms next, chin, another chin, more belly, some for the thighs, some ass girth, more belly, arm flab, some more for the jaw line, here you go belly… another wafer, some for the face, belly, cheeks, below the eyes, belly, belly, hair fat (not if you’re bald), belly, chin and…

… I go Cold Turkey. I want it to come off the gut first. Actually, a reduction of face fat would be nice. I’ve suddenly gotten a big head. Yuck. Bringing us to Day 4! As I’ve begun to carve the lbs away I cant help but get a little bummed out. The mirror isn’t playing along this time. 4 lbs in and I turned sideways and screamed. Where the fuck is this weight coming off from? A push on my gut… cool a wave pool. Hey wait… not so cool. This project is pointless. My food is starting to taste better, though.

Finally, Day 5, a little victory, the friends below my chest seem to be retreating. Cool, a highway crew seems to be getting ready to carve a road through the middle of my mid-section. Can’t wait. Who knew I loved the taste of spinach!?!

To answer the where’s the weight coming off from question? A thousand crunches later and a little comes off from the chin, belly, hair fat (not if your bald), belly, belly, below the eyes, cheeks, belly, some from the face…

…until you reach your ultimate goal, whatever you define as acceptable. If you want a six-pack you need to eat accordingly. If you’re okay with a little extra girth, decide how much is healthy and don’t allow anyone else to influence your definitions.

For me, I want to get into the best shape of my life. For me. I want the six-pack, I drink it, therefore, I want to carry one constantly. 155 will get me there. So I’m eating accordingly. No longer am I eating to maintain 179. I’ll let you in on a little secret: every ounce you lose lowers the amount you can eat to maintain your new lower weight. At 179: 2644 calories maintains 179. 155: only 2500. Hence, to get there I’m upping the activity and trying to stay below 2000 calories per day!

As for my gut. I avoid abdominal exercises until I’ve dropped the first 10 lbs. Why?

Because if you focus on the unachievable spot reduction, initially, it’ll have a negative effect. You’ll deposit muscle under flab and although you’ll be reducing weight, you’re gut will expand until you drop enough from it to compensate.

Don’t become another ab-frenzied fool at the gym. Unless you dump weight, a million crunches will do you little good. Sure, you’ll have a strong abdomen, how strong does your ego need it to be?.. and only till you injure yourself, but, c’mon, if you want ripped the only way is to shoot for your ideal weight. And even if you make it… you risk becoming obsessed, which will turn one or two ways, a road to the shiny tower, or re-girthing.

The peanut art above is to illustrate the importance of being aware of what you’re consuming. The picture is approximately 30 grams of peanuts equaling 180 calories. If you’re not aware one peanut fest could quickly exceed 1000 calories.

Take that Charlie Brown!

Bonus morsel:

With the festive season upon us… as important as it is to be healthy, avoid becoming too healthy. Especially if you plan to indulge, imbibe, quaff any substances that may be considered toxic. And definitely don’t do a cleanse now.

The reason: we’re all filled of toxins and if you eradicate everything bad by using a herbal cleanse, when you retox, you’ll just be inviting in a world of pain to your freshly cleansed body. A big night out will quickly turn into the most painful, life trashing, recovery.

So, cleanse after the seasonal debauchery concludes.

If you hop on the party train and enjoy the season fully, might I suggest, supplement life with Milk Thistle. It’ll help your liver survive without any side-effects. Google it!

consumed

Day four:

B’fast: Tasty green goodness smoothie. 150
Lunch: Toasted turkey (130 g) w/roma tomato. 410
Juice Blueberry & Green Tea (glass). 110
Dinner: 3 pints. 450
Chicken Breast (200 g) 350
Peas Grade A. 150
Peanuts ( 30 gm.). 180
G total for the day. 1900

Day five:

B’fast: Tasty green goodness smoothie. 150
Lunch: Toasted tuna sandy. 340
½ Arthur’s Green Energy Smoothie 115
2 x Peanuts ( 30 gm.). 360
Chicken Breast (200 g) 350
Dinner: 4 pints. 600
Spinach Grade A. 80
G total for the day. 1995

book update

A major literary/media agency out of the UK., requested samples of my memoir this week. A package has been sent. Wish me luck!

love is in the air

I love the road crew that is beginning to work below my chest!

financial forecast

No update! I believe prosperity is around the next corner.

randomness

Flip back to today’s pep talk.

It’s important. We need to stop berating each other. Whether it is face-to-face or behind ones back. I know it’s tough. The behavior has been ingrained in us. We need to buff it out. We can do it ---and if we do, the world will be a better place.

If you need to wean yourself off of verbal trash talk, keep one nemesis, one person that just annoys you to no end. Bitch about that person as much as you like. All the time if you need to. Keep your nemesis tight to you and give every friend constant updates on how your nemesis is destroying your life. Until the day one of your friends tells you to, “SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Cause they realize if you’re verbally undressing your nemesis, they’re not immune.

And besides, that’s why we have celebrities, politicians, and athletes. They give there lives for us to shred apart.

SLEEPING IN YOUR UNDERWEAR CAN KILL YOU!

155: day two/three

2007-11-21T20:39:00.000-08:00

155: day two/three

november 20/21

pep talk of the day

I’m convinced that our inner dialogue is vital to our happiness!

If we allow negative thoughts in, who doesn’t?.. we lose. The language we choose either, lifts us, or knocks us down to the point where functioning… can be difficult at best. I’ve beaten myself down so much at times that getting up ---- near impossible.

Until?

Until I started to adjust my thinking, life has a way of setting us up, and knocking us down, and, if we laugh at it’s absurdity… we’ve got a chance. If not?

I don’t want to answer that. Anyway, I’ve had my fair share of crap, and I don’t want it anymore. So, what am I going to do about it?

For the most part: force positive, pick myself up with mind control --- I have to, or I’ll go nuts!

For the last several weeks I’ve been unlocking the gates to positive and keeping destructive thought at bay. I know it may sound corny, but when I get down… I kick “down” out, and I spin my thoughts to something constructive. This weeks positive dialogue:

“I’m truly an amazing and beautiful man who will have a positive impact on the world, and I will live a life filled with love, happiness, health and prosperity.” Repeated as often as necessary.

It’s amazing how after ten minutes of allowing no other thought in, spirits soar.

progress report

How did I get fat?

Before I share: do you ever trick your mind into thinking that your hot when physical expansion is bulging to the forefront?

It’s as if our mind is about: two, three, and even four weeks behind our mirrors. We’re all somewhat deluded when it comes to fat. I’m not truly fat, if you are, and you’re pissed at my belly-lacking pains…. screw you!

Anymore time on the current program and I’d be joining a large, extremely large, and growing, portion of the population at the troughs of fat. Fortunately, I caught myself, I’m not fat… not fit either, but instead, somewhere in between, I’m now fet --- and I hate it. I turned sideway one day, and oh boy, “you protrude bitch.”

Next, a shower, “oh my… gone.” Another shower, “where are my toes?” Seriously. If I suck in I can carry on the illusion for a bit… I don’t want to suck, too much!

I understand how it all happens:

First, we get older.
Activities such as tennis, football, basketball… are replaced by life as the playground changes from frivolity, to: “fuck, nobody told me everything was going to change. Tony no more tennis, why?.. Cause you’re…
Without activity and the constant pursuit of stuff, career-driven of course, we suddenly lose time for what matters, however, on the surface we make more coin which allows us to consume more, we simply don’t have the corresponding activity to burn of the consumption.
Then we live in denial, we think we can turn around the bus and remove our asses by just retreating to what was. We can’t! So we get fatter… and North America reminds us daily of our new girth through television, diets, and the new posse of svelte up and comers. Sure we make more coin… but we’re being removed from the game. Once that happens… health wanes, we hate ourselves and take it out on those we love, and we fuck everything up and go looking for quick fixes and instant gratification.
Next, next is not pretty, we begin to rely on one or two pair of pants… they still fit, sort of. One day not so much… so you feel down. They’re no longer comfy. You deny some more.
Suddenly, sweats… and leisure clothes. You’re giving up. And then one day: you’re underwear flops over… and you’re belt is out of notches. You look in the mirror again… and, fuck! It’s over.

Not so fast! There’s hope! Stop eating… no, that’s not it. Realize that it doesn’t have to be this way. As for me, I got fet, because I was depressed, wasn’t rolling too well with life issues and so after chiseling a beautiful physique by September, I traded it all in for two-and-a-half months of fast-food. Disgusting… I know. My chest started to hurt --- change became necessary. I’ve got too much life ahead. Hey where did my toes go?

Oh yeah… the progress report. I remind you that I’m a tad nuts and taking this whole personal challenge to the extreme. I suggest you modify yours if you decide to join me. The progress… today, DAY 3, I tipped the scales at 174.6 lbs. A reduction of 4.4 lbs in 3 days!

Extreme I know… I just wanted to kick it all of with a bang!

My lifestyle is changing… and amazingly, the food I’m eating now is far tastier than the crap that got me here in the first place!

fitness fact/tip

Not only have I decided to be a test case for all those who have weight-based, girth-exploding fitness lifestyle challenges --- I’ve, with the help of the Seed Collective decided to give some insight into how difficult changing course can be. We’ll be also offering up as part of the updates a little tidbit to help put into perspective what lies in store once you embark on a path of positive change.

These tasty little morsels will eventually be contained in our upcoming book: Put Down The Fork. And, instead of trying to become the “biggest loser,” that’s not the goal of this program, because we’re all winners after all --- especially when we figure out: lifestyle change is for “ourselves” and not anyone else. If you’re changing for someone else… good luck, you’re not likely doing it for the right reason and staying power will probably be absent from the equation.

That’s not to say a little push along the way isn’t a good thing. For me, in an intimate moment, hearing, “You’re hot… and so is your belly.” Was enough for me.

Today’s fact/tip:

Test subject: 40 years old.
Activity level: moderate.
Height: 5’ 11” (man); 5’ 8” (woman).
Current weight: 175 lbs (man); 130 lbs (woman).
Daily calories required to maintain weight: 2715 (man); 1992 (woman).
Fast food equivalent (# of Big Mac Meals): 2.4 meals (man); 1.8 (woman).
Big Mac, fries, coke: 1130 calories.

For me the equation is as follows: I’m a bit older than the test subject. I’m the same height and starting weight is 179lbs. To maintain that weight I can gorge myself on 2644.5 calories per day or the equivalent of 2.3 Big Mac Meals* a day.

It’s important to note that as we get older, in number only, our calorie intake to maintain diminishes and usually our level of activity is reduced. To make things tougher, factor in that usually we earn more and can afford to eat… which when you toss it all together it can become a lethal combination. Hence, the need to adjust lifestyles before the paramedics start to scream, “clear!”

Bonus morsels:

1 lb = 3500 calories. 1 gram fat = 9 calories. 1 gram protein = 4 calories. 1 gram booze = 7 calories.

For me to lose 24 lbs in 31 days I need to lose: 24 x 3500 = 84,000 calories more than I consume.

Or 2709.7 calories per day… a tall order considering to maintain my weight I can only eat 2644.5 calories per day.

So, therefore, the only hope in hell I have is to up my activity level or stop eating… and to tell you the truth: I’m hungry!

*In no way do we recommend a fast-food nutrition plan. If you choose that plan you may not gain weight as the thought of 2+ meals per day is somewhat disgusting and will lead to a lethargic state of being. However, as your body begins to become toxic you may experience a few changes: If you’re a man… zits and an affinity for women who are far too young for you, eventually delivering you to a truck load of moral and legal problems . If you’re a woman… I don’t know, I’m a man. My suggestion: stay away from guys who eat every meal at burger joints… unless you want to pay the bills of life in the future!

Final note:

I’m upping my activity level to intense and even with that some powerful software suggests my goal is far too aggressive… I say screw powerful software!

The software suggests the earliest I can achieve my goal is February 13th, 2008, by consuming 2003 calories per day and maintaining a high activity intensity level. Crap! They’re suggesting 55 more days than I’ve got planned… again, screw the software!

Anyway you slice it… Cupid, look out!

*Sob* I’m down to less than 2 Big Mac meals per day. Wait a minute, a pint of beer is roughly 150 calories, therefore, if I don’t eat: I can have 13 pints per day. Yummy beer!

consumed

Day two‘s white linen table service:

Breakfast: Arthur’s Green Energy Smoothie 230 calories
Lunch: 2 poached eggs on flax bread. 318
Juice Blueberry & Green Tea (glass). 110
Dinner: 4 pints. 600
Chicken Breast (200 g) 350
Peas 180
Tasty Beverage 110
G total for the day. 1898

Day three’s scrumptious dining:

Breakfast: Arthur’s Very Berry Smoothie 160 calories
Lunch: Toasted tuna sandy. 340
Iced tea. 150
Dinner: 3 pints. 450
Chicken Breast (200 g) 350
Peas Grade A. 150
Tasty green goodness smoothie. 150
1 Roma Tomato 40
G total for the day. 1790

book update

The “piercing focus” I mentioned at the start of 155 has been eaten up by one request: the literary/media agency that represents one M. Atwood, have requested my memoir, scary… yes, but my dream is to pursue a life that contains a literary aspect, therefore, today I blasted off a package and will receive an answer sometime in the next three months.

Tomorrow: more queries!

love is in the air

I need to let love in. Not just sticky love, but love that has some tender and lasting qualities. In that general feeling, I’ll let you in on some love embers that are starting to flicker. Perhaps, they’ll correspond with my girth reduction!

Stay tuned!

financial forecast

Please send thoughts on my behalf out to the Universe. I don’t want to…

randomness

Rounding it out: this project is a work in progress, ever evolving as I get a grip on my shrinking… I’m glad you’re on board.

Explore the site… there is a lot to offer and I’m certain it’s original. Buy our first book… search the site to find out the title and what it is and all about, I’ll just tell you: 28 - 5 Star reviews!

And finally, come back often… sign up at the bottom left and have the updates sent to you directly!

BE HAPPY!

155: day one

2007-11-19T19:38:00.000-08:00

155: day one

monday november 19th

Go!

This time not a big red one… instead, green. It’s time for me to unchunk! And, believe me, I’ve been chunking up at an unparalleled rate. At the start of September, I was tasty svelte, not my words the words of an other. Not the Lost variety, instead, a flesh & blood, Vancouver variety. I was tipping the scales somewhere around 165 delightfully toned head-turning pounds…delusional?

Perhaps!.. I’m sure the heads weren’t turning for me --- but maybe!

Then it all came crumbling down. Each crumb to be consumed by me… hmm scrumptious crumbs. (More on my crumb consumption in a future post).

TIME OUT!

While spelling scrumptious I accidentally inserted an “i” certain that I had made a spelling error… I didn’t, I accidentally spelled it correctly. Kudos to me!

I let you in on something: I’m exceptionally excited by the challenge of 155!

So much so, that I loaded up excessively my last twenty-four hours of consuming crap. Yesterday, McDonalds, followed by beer after beer after beer after.., followed by dill pickle chips, chicken, beer, and something out-of-character when one is girthing-up with arterial destructive behavior, mushy peas!

This morning: cinnamon bun, washed down with chocolate milk, followed up with Burger King for lunch complete with a massive cola, and then it was time to digest for a bit, followed by the gym and hitting the scales. Cold turkey has begun!

Time for WEIGH IN:

179

Ouch! Gluttony lives.

It’s now time to ungirth. 24 pounds to be erased in 31 days. A little too extreme?

Absolutely!

the fine print…

(Don’t try this yourself without some strong soul searching. Visiting your doctor if you live a sedentary lifestyle. The only reason I’m attempting something so extreme… I’m for the most part, always in relatively good shape. Cardio wise, I can handle it… make sure you can before you push yourself to this extent).

…end of fine print.

However, it is time to take the stage of life and break down all limiting aspects of my life. This challenge, although extreme, is important, it represents a starting point and a serious attempt to change lifestyle. Welcome aboard --- as you watch my baby fat melt away!

Not only is the bf going to be eradicated from my body… if all goes well I’m going to drop the % from the neighborhood of 17% all the way down to 7%.

How?

Working my butt off and eating sensibly. Definitely eating, however, after tonight a short 2-3 day fast will be part of the program. Before the fast: Steak, tomatoes, a small portion of pasta with vegetable sauce, some broccoli, all washed down with a yummy blueberry & green tea beverage!

This post was going to touch on some inspirational stuff regarding my fledgling writing career, however, I’ve decided to save that for another day… and that is all for now.

Not quite… one last note as I’m about to leave you: By this Saturday, Day 6, 179 will be reduced to 169... mark my words!

Next update: I’ll tell you how I girthed up in the first place. And I’ll be offering some regular features to the update: the pep talk of the day, a progress report, book updates, what I’ve consumed, and a visit to my softer side as I let you in on my quest for…

Note: If anyone is interested in my workout and nutritional program during the 155 challenge, please send me an email requesting it to: theseedvan @ hotmail.com . Place “155” in the subject line. I’m happy to oblige --- of course at no charge!

See you soon!

query: russians, clowns, drag queens

2007-11-18T09:51:00.000-08:00

Query: russians, clowns & drag queens (letters to ed)

Dear Publishers/Agents/Movie Producers/You?:

With the power of the internet... I'd be amiss if I did not send my manuscript query out to the cyber world. Perhaps, that's not the way the publishing industry prefers to operate, instead, they seem to be slowly adjusting to the changing times and still require fledgling authors to go through the tried but true procedure of: query, double-spaced samples, and then rejection, disguised as, "due to the volume of manuscripts we receive... PFO!"

Apparently, their job is to read, however, not really, as they don't have the time to respond. I have the urge to rant, but it's probably not the best course to take.

Anyway, below is the query for my manuscript, the book is good... I'm certain of that. Little victories have confirmed that fact. They came in the form of publishers expressing how; interesting, original, beautifully presented, intriguing, abstract, bizarre and how good the manuscript is. Again, however, since fame hasn't paid me a visit, yet, no contract has been offered.

A celebrity craps... they get a book deal. A real person lives an amazing life, and it's: doubled-spaced with a SASE envelope, at great expense I might add, and who are you?

"Can't I email you a few pages?"

"No... we're too busy. And besides, we decide what people want to read!"

Hopefully, I haven't offended any potential (see greeting), I guess I likely haven't offended my publisher... he'll/she'll understand my frustration. If you are interested in working with a passionate author to bring an amazing story to life. I look forward to hearing from you!

Regards,

Lindsay

postscript: Really a simple question: does the publishing industry need to learn from the mistakes of the recording industry?

That brings us to!

russians, clowns & drag queens

(letters to ed)

Not every day, does someone watch both of their parents die, only to have them magically come back to life eighteen years later!

I am seeking representation for my memoir, russians, clowns & drag queens (letters to ed), complete at 200,000 words. The sequel, Play, is nearing completion and is the continuation of a journey through a fascinating and at times tumultuous life.

I love life and all of the plot twists, both good and bad that it delivers --- the trauma, heartache, colorful characters, hilarity, and the struggle for survival. My life has contained all of these elements on a grand scale and a level that without question… is far greater than that of any fictional character that could be created. russians, clowns, & drag queens (letters to ed), introduces you to a brilliant character, and takes you on an incredible ride through his life.

Imagine a boy named Lindsay, growing up as the youngest of seven. Imagine that boy going through life trying to find his place in the world, screaming out for attention, however, nobody notices - his voice remains silent as he’s trying desperately to fit square pegs into round holes. He knows no better.

His life fills with hope and dreams and he traipses through life with reckless abandon. He creates an imaginary world rich in friendship and tries to remove himself from the daily fights and drama that are present in his family life. He still shouts out, “look at me.” Nobody is looking. His parents are too old, and his brothers and sisters for the most part, don’t care. He still knows no better.

He succeeds in everything he participates in --- in two year stints. In his youth his father becomes ill --- a nine year struggle with cancer, finally succumbing on the day after Lindsay’s twenty-fifth birthday. A year later his mother faces the same dark demon, and after a year long battle, things are looking up!.. until one night, her pain returns and she needs to return to the hospital. On the steps of the family home with tear-filled eyes she looks at Lindsay and says, “I’m never going to be home again, am I?” He tried to remain strong fighting back emotion, and replied, “Of course you will.” Lindsay, knew he was lying. Less than a week later he watched her die. In fact: Lindsay was the only one of the seven children to watch both of his parents take their last breathes of life.

With his parents gone the family splintered apart and Lindsay headed out into the world trying to find his place and assign meaning, alone. Fortunately, his life of ‘screaming out,’ helped him to develop personality, a sense of humor, and the ability to dream. Not without challenges caused by a lack of direction and the struggle to find a sense of belonging. Regardless of the challenges he tackled life head on.

And, what a life it has been! it has been filled with almost unfathomable twists and turns ranging from: buying a hotel in Jamaica, a run in with Manuel Noriega, meeting the Dalai Lama, a near fatal motorcycle accident, playing basketball with Fox Mulder, breakfast with Michael Chiklis, thirteen surgeries, being mistaken for Vin Diesel, finding and losing love --- all the way to a simple conversation with and old man on a bus bench about what really matters in our journey through life.

Then BANG! Everything changed in a heartbeat. Fast-forward… 2003. In a two month time-frame he faced: the collapse of a relationship, five deaths in rapid succession, including a young friends suicide, and, family and friend alienation. Life was spinning out of control. Lindsay was crying every day and needed to escape. He needed a new passport and in the process needed a new birth certificate. Weeks flew by, the tears continued --- still no birth certificate. He inquired about the delay and a civil servant told him that they couldn’t issue him one. He asked, why? To which he was casually met with, “Could you phone your parents and ask them who your real parents are?” In a flash, everything before became a lie and his parents came back to life --- a bizarre and heart-wrenching part of the plot line. His mother… not good news. His father… a mystery, to be solved by a little old lady, and a three year relationship commenced.

russians, clowns & drag queens (letters to ed), takes the reader on a ride through an amazing life. It’s about survival, assigning meaning, and picking up the pieces without becoming too damaged in the process. Readers will be able to relate to: finding first love, learning to drive, experimenting with sex, drugs, and alcohol. They’ll also find bits of themselves in Lindsay’s unrelenting struggle for survival after life had repeatedly knocked him down. This story, my story, has a little bit of everyone in it. The most amazing thing: IT’S A POSITVE STORY with a powerful message. If I can survive - anyone can!

If I had to compare my book to others, I can’t. I can tell you, it’s a combination of everything I’ve been exposed to in life, both good and bad. It is bizarre, abstract, wacky, tragic, emotionally draining, and at times, hilarious. It’s life! Everyone’s life. It’s about hiding behind wit and intelligence and trying to escape uncertainty when there is nowhere to hide and nobody to hide from. It’s not perfect --- neither is life!

I've been writing professionally for five years and am currently a freelance journalist. My articles appear regularly in the 24 Hours Vancouver (circulation 220,000 daily). I’ve also co-authored one book and have made several television and radio appearances. I love telling stories and this is truly an amazing tale! Thank you for your consideration of this proposal. I look forward to hearing from you soon.

Kindest Regards,

Lindsay Wincherauk, Author
Vancouver, BC
Tel: *** ***-****
Email: theseedvan@hotmail.com
Website: http://www.seedenterprises.com/

P.S. In the words of the old man on the bus bench: People matter. It is as simple as that…

155

2007-11-18T09:00:00.000-08:00

155

Fun, fun, fun… funnity fun!

Don’t let the picture above disturb you… and in fact, the picture is telling a bit of a fib, that’s more like 175.

What is 155? you ask.

Let me tell you… well, other than being one fine sexy damn number. A one, followed closely by a couple of fives. What’s more sexy than that?

247, c’mon, please!

One: the beginning. Five: half way there. Another five: a pause to enjoy making it that far. Shall I continue…

“No”

You’re right… I’m not making sense.

As for some historical facts about 155:

Roman Empire

Roman Emperor Antoninus Pius starts a new war against the Parthians who are led by Vologesus. The war is brief and results in an inconclusive peace.
Rome states that while it will not be recognized as an official religion, Judaism must be tolerated.
To restore peace between the Jews and Romans, Antoninus relegalizes circumcision.
The Romans begin to abandon Hadrian's Wall.

Asia

First year of Yongshou era of the Chinese Han Dynasty.

Anyhow, 155 is nothing more than my quest for Svelte. Of ridding my body of baby fat and achieving an illusive goal. Today, November 18th, 2007, I tip the scales in the neighborhood of 178 belly bulging lbs. Too many, and no longer necessary --- unless hibernation is forecast for my future.

It’s time, I’ve tried the other options for months, hell, years now --- all to no avail. Failure has been kicking me in the junk for quite some time now, therefore, it’s time to search for a radical solution to my pressing dilemma. Cold fucking turkey --- is painfully, appearing to be the only solution.

I searched for other answers and I tried to trick my mind: today will be the last day. Shit. That’s okay, we all screw up --- tomorrow will be the last day. Crap. After the weekend --- that will be the last time. Damn it! One more time --- I want to go out with a bang --- enjoy every bite. Pisser.

Mind, you’re one slick manipulator. You’ve left me no other options. I need to fight for my survival. Vanity has issued an ultimatum: get with the program or I’m going to leave you forever. How’d you like that dough boy? Well… how?

So there you have it: Cold turkey it is. I have no choice.

So come along with me on my journey… 31 days and a dump of 23 pounds. Can I do it… check in for the updates… before I start, I’m off to eat Poutine!

Tomorrow: Weigh in.

Start day: November 19th. Finish: Just before Christmas.

Oops... I almost forgot to define cold turkey!..

Since I’m not going to give up sex and the wonderful soothing qualities of Triptophan, as an alternative, I’ve decided: no cola, no harsh... no French fries, and a heavy reduction in the consumption of beer. That way, I’ll avoid the inevitable turn-to: sexless, that likely comes as an end result of the over consumption of crap. I’ve managed to keep father time at bay for quite some time now, however, my recent all junk diet, coupled with the over quaffing of beer, throw in the odd audio hallucinatory… and it is time.

“Harsh dude.”

I know --- but it must be done. It’s for the greater good. I’m going to take one on the chin for the team. Lead by example. At least till I get my weak-assed, will-powerless, lifestyle-destroying, temptation-chasing, mind and body back in control of my life game. It’s either I take this drastic measure, or I get rid of all mirrors and hide. And, I’m not a very good hider.

You see: I’ve always prided myself on being in stellar physical condition. My penis was always in sight by just glancing downward. As of late: I’m afraid that unless my upper abdomen grows its own penis --- it’s slipping away. My dick is becoming a good hider.

“One, two, three…ten. Ready or not here I come. Where did you go?”

I don’t want to loose him. He’s important to me --- cold turkey has become a necessity. That subway guy pretty much went on a diet of cold turkey and look what it’s done for him. I said look. Are you looking?

At the end of my our journey... I'll post another picture, a provocative picture. Perhaps, with a glance at my nether regions. Wouldn't that be delightful?

Don't leave, yet, I have one more piece of business to attend to, my manuscript, my first memoir: russians, clowns & drag queens (letters to ed).

It's done! It's good! It's funny! It's traumatic! It's inspirational! It's bizarre! I could go on --- but I won't. It's time for it to come to fruition, to find a publishing home, in that spirit, 155, and the thirty-one days involved, are to be thirty-one days of piercing focus at the end of which, that said publishing home, is to be secured. Can I do it?

Come along for the ride and see... it's time to stop being the underdog!

Day 1: November 19th, 2007.

Day 31: December 20th, 2007.

Wish me luck!

spin doctor

2007-11-14T19:33:00.000-08:00

spin doctor

Breathe, Lindsay, breathe… in, out, in, out…

Okay, that’s better… is it really? Am I on the verge of another stint of faking it!?!

You may have just red, I mean read: ending… if you haven’t, I kindly ask you to take the time to do so now.

I didn’t edit the first version of the consumption of the above word because it stands for understanding, and life at the same time… it also, when it flows externally, stains the earth, bringing death and completion, until it clots, hardens and it’s washed away. Replaced eventually by the pain of another participant in the life experiment. Both versions share similar traits if you look close enough --- vital to tomorrow and tomorrow and every tomorrow after that.

Anyway, I’d really appreciate it if you read ending now. It’s part of the letting you, whomever you may be, in. Thank you!

Spin doctor: this chapter, segment, post, diatribe, personal rambling, and search for understanding is the aftermath of another shattering experience. It is also an experiment, you see, I’m clocking this inclusion… fifteen minutes max, starting with a big red GO. Fifteen minutes to spin the heartache of ending into something positive. Complete with one picture that to me shares beauty, and has its eyes on the future. Maybe you’ll see it, too.

Anyway:

It’s 6:52 now and I’m going to blast this off in the next fifteen minutes and try to find some silver lining in the remnants of heartache.

Why am I doing this? Why am I sharing this with you? Letting you in? Leaving myself open to judgment, while at the same time leaving myself vulnerable?

I don’t know… I think it is part of the life process. A way for me to grow. A way to share with you hurt and pain… and, in the end of it all, maybe letting you in to show you that I will survive and I will eventually be alright. Maybe I’m lying. Maybe I’m just kidding myself and I’m just the greatest con artist of all time and my mark, is me.

After reading the first portion of this wordiness, you may think I’m lost and not capable of sensible thoughts. Maybe I’m not. Last Sunday, Saturday when you really think about it, my life bombarded me with emotion. Saturday, I went out and for a lack of a better term, got wrecked. Messed up… Sunday, in my state of toxic destruction… everything from the last four years of family shit took me out and placed me on this perilous ledge where I thought I was going to die. I truly believed my heart was about to stop... seriously! I think for a brief moment --- it may have.

Don’t worry, I wasn’t going to take my own life, or do I want to… I had just overindulged in escaping and left myself precariously close to destruction. I let everything that society, well, that mostly I, was suppressing, and placed it on my shoulders --- letting it crush me and bring me down. I’d been experimenting with positive thought for the last several weeks ---- nothing negative was allowed in, “I’m an amazing man, who’ll have a positive impact on the world and I will live a life filled with love, health, happiness and prosperity,” played on one continuous loop.

I even faked happiness by continuing to be my bizarre wacky self. Must entertain others, keep the mood light ---- it’s who I am. Doesn’t matter that I said hello and goodbye to my father in the same month.

And unbelievably, even when I try to keep mine, and those around me, spirits from falling, I'm met with, "Michael told me you're full of useless information." Despite of his knowledge of the emotional plank my life is balancincg on. A sad example of another human trying to discount life and destroy personality... again, being marginal. I feel sorry for those who diminish others.

Just think: Elmer, in ending, wasn’t my father, and he wanted to be. How brilliant is that!?!

Perhaps that is all that I need... to know I've impacted another, as he did me, to the point where without confirmation of red (blood ties), he'd be honored to assume the role! Now the challenge: convincing myself I'm worthy.

You may think sharing is self-indulgent and the purpose of web journals? A way for families to stay in touch, share pictures of the lake, of happiness, of trying to sell good times?

Sure, I guess that’s part of it… is that really life, or just the selling of good times? The selling of a fantasy?

For me sharing is about letting others in. It is about being vulnerable… we don’t learn from each other in the good times. They’re too easy. In a sense: substance less.

To me: we grow when we are served up difficulty. When we want to turn and run away. If we run… we shrivel up and become marginal and lifeless. If we allow the pain in with all of it’s associated hope, dark thoughts, and the struggle to survive and assign meaning… we’ll grow. Our lives will be enriched and we’ll become beacons of hope for all others searching for love and understanding.

To me: if we hide behind heartache… sure, others will smile with you, however, when you truly need them… they’ll likely vanish into thin air. Tough times define friendship and love. I’m loved. Without pain… I’d never know for sure.

I’ve got seven minutes left, six… it’s time to spin. To find the positive from four, forty-seven years of lies. Well, where do I begin without sounding too egotistical?

Fuck that! I need my your support, if you know me, you’ve seen my humbleness, and you’ll understand that I need to be lifted from the hurt. If you try to quash me: fuck you!

Okay, spin: I am an amazing guy… I’ve faced a plethora of bizarre challenges and although at times they get the best of me, I find a way to rise up and move on. Maybe a little weighed down, but I can handle the weight for the most part.

I’m good to others… always. I make the odd mistake with that, however, I try, and I’m cognizant of my errors.

Two minutes left. I don’t blame. I love… unfortunately, I’m a bit afraid of being loved back. I want to make a difference. I’m passionate about life… I want those around me to be as well. Actually, everyone.

One minute. I share. Why is that important?

Winding it down. Cause, I’m a bit of a guinea pig. Life can be destructive, it can bring bitterness, it can defeat us and lead us down dark paths where getting up is nearly impossible. If it’s kicked me in the junk as many times as it has and I can rise… hey, I’m not feeling sorry for myself, and I can claw my way back up. So can you! Get up. Tomorrow is coming, along with whatever it may bring ---and every life is a fascinating story that needs to be embraced and cherished…

Just about out of time… love life, love others, if we do, regardless of what is brought our way, we’ll all be making our world a better place!

I may be broken, but I love… and I've even made love during one of my lowest points.

Making love is beuatiful, breath-taking, exilarating, messy, and if in its completion, when you're spent and covered in... a new begining.

Just remember if it ends with a towel, it's not true love!

ending

2007-11-07T18:58:00.000-08:00

ending

Friday, November 2nd 2007

“Hello, Elmer, it’s Lindsay, from Vancouver.”

I just had to make this call, somehow the responsibility has fallen upon me and it’s important, to me, to Elmer, and for my growth and survival. I’m shaking, trembling, really. I’ve been welling-up and crying a lot in the past few days, years when I give it some thought. You can’t possibly prepare for a call like this. I’ve made many before that shared threads of absurdity with this one, but none quite match it’s finality.

I’ve made the, “you must come home soon, it doesn’t look good, dad won’t last much longer,” call. They never made it in time… myself, my brother, Brian, and, my mother, watched his last gasp. Collapsing was desired --- faking strength was my ruse.

Following up death of course consisted of the countless, “my fathers gone,” calls. Those were made on the day after my twenty-fifth birthday. Friends rallied and helped the recovery process.

Unfortunately, I made the same “come home soon,” call, just over a year later. This time, mom. They didn’t make it this time either… not while she was coherent at least, and again the trauma ripped me apart. Faking strength once again was my script.

After mom, the family splintered and I was for the most part left solo to sort things out and pick up the pieces. Fortunately, friends, not family, raised my spirits and helped me move on.

The demise of mom & dad should have launched a starting point of love and support, a point of solidarity for the seven children, including me (the youngest), where bonds strengthen and we look out for each others well-being, however, unless I missed something, we splintered apart. At least from my perspective. Home base and a place of belonging, safety, and love, invisible… maybe it was just because, I was the youngest?

Nah… we simply just divided and I was removed from the inclusion of family. Friends became my solace, family began to disappear and pass judgment. Actually, judgment sounds wonderful, they, the family, my three older brothers and sisters, simply just pushed erase, and I was no longer acknowledged. Any semblance of home… no more.

So what do you do?

You cry. Often.

You long. For a place of belonging. A place where you matter, to someone.

You long some more. For each years celebrated days to regain meaning… for someone to want you without the fear of them leaving. But you have trouble letting anyone in --- too close, cause you know they’re just going to jump ship as soon as your heartache takes away from their happiness. They’ll want to love you, and do, but the weight of your pain, despite of everything brilliant you may offer, is too much… so they go. Each time they do… you come closer to alone. Tears continue to flow. You want them to stop.

So, you rely. On friends, for support, and meaning. Some resist, they don’t understand. Their parents are still alive… they still have a home. They have no reference. They usher you away slowly. Pushing really. They weren’t really friends to begin with. The true ones stay… they don‘t try to understand, they just love you. You’re afraid they’ll leave. And thus, you cry some more. Sometimes the tears makes sense, at others the reasons escape you. The reasons are in a thick fog and your brain feels heavy, numb, actually. The tears stop. Only on the outside.

Life goes on… sixteen years pass and you find out by accident that you weren’t the only one acting, pretending to be something you weren’t, this time it wasn’t faking strength, this time your whole family is caught in a lie… everything changed, after a period in life where everything had been changing daily already... side stories for another time.

“Jim, I know the truth, it’s devastating… the family let me ride a life changing roller coaster ending in death, and they weren’t my parents… I would have got on for the ride anyway, but… somebody needed to tell me, it’s my life.” You calmly stated, tears now flowing internally…

The response, you’re no longer the little brother, the family collective wants to keep up the charade, you can’t, everyone’s roles have changed. Your parents have come back to life. One was part of the lie, she wasn’t good to you. You’re real father, a mystery.

A desire burns inside, you need to know something about him, about where you began, a stranger tracks him down. You speak for the first time (on the phone), eighteen years after you watched him die. The conversation is not rehearsed and starts with trembling, quivering, and simply, “Hello you may be my father.” He’s a good man. He doesn’t judge. He’s sorry. You fake strength again. You fall apart when the call ends.

Two years pass, nothing, the wonderful sentiment of the call is lost, it must’ve been too much for him to handle. You long for closure --- but you understand the difficulty the bombshell has inflicted upon him. You give up.

Your dear friends, few, that’s okay, that is after all where life deposits us, look out for you, without condition. You still fear losing them, because your script is consuming and relentless. They stay. You can’t express your love and appreciation enough.

You try to run. You can’t. You try to hide. There is no one to hide from. Calls from family, to the baby brother, remain silent. The scars cut deeper with each tick of the clock. You remain positive, but your not sure if you can. You escape with humor. Fortunately, you’re funny.

The last glimmer of family is gone… you cope. You’ve been informed your mother is dying again. Guilt is dumped. “Are you going to fix things with your mother before she dies?” The message is sent by e-mail.

You cry. She won’t even admit she’s your mother… all you did was be born.

An invitation arrives: Uncle Lindsay we’d love you to come to our wedding.

You want to --- you realize, you can’t. A wedding is not the place to meet your dying mother for the first time --- and reconnect with a family who choose to abandon you. You remain strong. Maybe it’s weak? --- you struggle with emotion.

The pressure grows. “Are you coming? Are you coming? Are you coming?” You avoid for as long as you can, until you can’t delay no longer. You draft a message:

Hello Robyn

Yes, I received the invitation.

Not a day has gone by where I haven’t thought about your wedding. I’m incredibly excited for you and wish you and Scott the best for now and the years to come. You’re an amazing young woman and I’m positive that you and Scott will build a fantastic life together.

As for coming to the wedding --- it pains me, but I don’t feel that it would be the best thing for your special day. Not coming has weighed heavy on my heart, however, I don’t think that I would be emotionally able to handle the side-drama that would unfold on that day.

Sweetie, my life has changed dramatically and I know for many of the others, nothing may have changed in their minds, but for me --- everything has. I hope you understand that. There is much more to this than I’m revealing here, stuff that I have to come to terms with on my own.

I’m sad that I won’t be able to attend and I send the both of you my love.

Much Love

Lindsay

You cry some more. The precise moment you’re about to hit send, and in a sense, close the book on a family that wasn’t interested in you --- a message appears on the screen:

Hi There,

My name is Tanya and I am writing on behalf of my Uncle Elmer. Elmer would like to be in contact with you. Please call him at home at ******** or on his cell at ********.

Best Regards,

Tanya
PS E-mail me back if I have the right e-mail address or not.

Thank you

Tanya
You still hit send on the first message. Then you reply to this new request. Within days you speak to your father again. It’s easy. It’s emotional. It’s wonderful. He wants you. He makes no excuses. A relationship picks up where it started two years ago.

He’s going to come to see you… he’s seventy-two and had lost your number, technology is not his friend, your number was on his cell, the cell was lost. He tells you the last years had been tough on him, if he has another son, it’s time to step up to the plate. He apologizes frequently --- we seem to be connected.

Months pass… I start to breakdown. He told me he was coming soon. Nothing, silence. Is this a cruel joke?

My mind is consumed with the meeting. I want to remain silent, instead, I share my excitement, “My fathers coming. My fathers coming…” He’s suddenly no longer coming. Until, I phone him… he’s been working up north and he’ll come out and see me once the work is done. He wants to see me! More conversations --- the bond grows stronger. I cry some more --- over lost time. So many years.

One Monday, he calls and leaves a message: “Lindsay, this is Elmer, I’m leaving Calgary now, I’ll be in Vancouver in a couple of days.” I shake when I hear it. I go for long walks and I can’t control the tears. I cry for my father who died. I cry for my mother who died. I cry for my mother who came back to life and closed her doors and resisted her role. And, I cry, about life… I’m broken, excited, confused, alone.

The past won’t leave me be, it keeps charging at me --- I’m so lost, I’m meeting my seventy-two father for the first time, and he’s excited to see me. My real mother, cast me aside, not without verbally undressing me, “you’ll never amount to much” --- “you’ll never be as good as your older brothers and sisters” --- “you’ll end up a failure” --- “Lindsay who?” Her words from my past, haunt me. I never understood --- how could she be my mother. My real father wants me!

The day finally comes, I waited in my car in a restaurants parking lot, there’s a knock on my door, “Lindsay are you going to sit in here all day?” He smiles. I was meeting my father for the first time.

He’s brought a friend… that’s okay, I understood this must be amazing for him as well. First up, we get tested, swabs, DNA. A formality. Our relationship grows, somehow we skip small talk and focus more on life and our journey. We share similar personality traits. He’s a good man. So am I.

Formality completed, we sit down to eat. The first meal with my father. We talk of life, love, family, our futures and what lies ahead. The connection is strong. He likes me! He wants to be my father! A pause, and he tells his lady friend, “I told you he’s a brilliant man. Positive. Strong. I’m proud.” I hid my tears. He wants to be my father!

It’s time to part company. In the parking lot I look into his eyes and thank him. He reached for my hand --- we embraced instead. He was touched by the gesture. I hugged my father for the first time in my life.

“Lindsay, you’re a good man. I’m honored to be your father. I want this. I want it for you --- for me. Before it’s confirmed, I want you to know that, I’m sorry. We can start fresh then.” As he left… the tears began to flow. He wants to be my dad --- my last memory will no longer be of his last breath of life.

Two weeks pass, the formality and confirmation is taking forever. I’m restless. I’m going crazy. I push and pressure the lab for the results. They respond with coldness --- the painful wait continues.

Finally, the results are ready. It was Wednesday --- two weeks after our meeting. I rushed to pick them up, and then, surprisingly, I can’t look. Hours pass…. I still can’t look. I know the results… I know it’s a formality. After a day goes by I know I need to close the chapter and start whatever is next, a friend gently presses me into moving forward. I tell him I need to do this alone, he says, “not a good idea.” His words were without condition.

Another hour and he’s right. In front of his shop, I open the results…

I’m lost and as we wind our way back to the starting point of this chapter, it’s now Friday, I’ve just finished my morning work… and it was time to make a call. To thank a great man for his love and support. For his attitude. For wanting me.

“Hello, Elmer, it’s Lindsay, from Vancouver.”

He’s excited to hear my voice. “Lindsay, how are you? It’s good to hear from you.”

“Well…” I paused… caught my breath “…I got the results.” Spit it out --- the tears began to flow. “Unfortunately…” I wasn’t holding up well. “…unfortunately, for me, it’s not a happy ending.” I couldn’t stop crying. “You’re not my father. Thank you for everything. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate everything you’ve done. I’m so sorry to have put you through so much. I’m sorry.” And, then I just broke down.

He wasn’t relieved. His voice cracked --- filled with emotion. He wanted to be my father! He’s not. It’s not a happy ending. The lie continues.

On Thursday, November 7th 2007, my father died for the second time. This time: he wanted me!

I’m not sure if I can go through this again, however, I’m not sure if I get to make that choice.

***What you’ve just digested is a true story. It’s part of my life, a very painful and recent part. This is the first version of the story and it will be included in some form or other in a future publication.

You may ask why would I share something so personal?

Simply because I believe it may be helpful to anyone who is struggling with family life --- if I can survive… you can for sure. At least you can say: I’m not that guy.

Many hugs.

Be happy!

(stay tuned for the next chapter)

Mr. & Mrs. Wallace become parents!

2007-10-02T09:52:00.000-07:00

Congrats... Kev & Dina!

We'd like to extend a huge congratulations to Kevin & Dina who've just been blessed with a healthy baby girl, Tessa Mia Wallace.

Tessa was born Saturday September 22, 2007 at 4:55 AM, weighing 7lbs 3oz.

Traditionally this would be a time when a slight roasting would be in order, however, the emotinal sap side of me is showing up and I wish them all the best, of course even if I roasted, I'd still be wishing them all the best. I'm certain they will be amazing parents!

Anyway, congrats Kev, Dina and to all of those in the extended family!

We'll soon return to our regularily scheduled programming

Minding the gap

2007-09-22T09:25:00.000-07:00

Minding the gap

by Lindsay Wincherauk

What happened?

We have security guards in our grocery stores protecting the food.

We have police officers impersonating journalists so that they can arrest anti-poverty activists who use intimidation tactics and vandalism to push their agenda.

Gentrification of the DTES has begun a process where the pain and suffering of addiction, consequence, and neglect, has started to spread throughout the city to the point where you can't walk through any park, at least in the downtown core, without literally stepping over bodies. The body count continues on the street during a simple journey to the store as people are sleeping on the sidewalks all over town. A man with his hand out opens the door at a convenience store --- on the way out I wait for the door to open automatically, the man is gone.

If you live downtown, Amnesty International asks you every day, "Do you have time?" I lie. I just want to go to the store. On the way you pass protesters in front of a chicken restaurant trying to organize a boycott, the staff inside just want to earn a few dollars.

Speculators buy multiple units of condominium projects and play a big money game of "flip this house." At the same time we're trying to find solutions for homelessness.

No wonder homelessness is now at our doorsteps.

Perhaps, if residential real estate wasn't for profit homelessness would be greatly reduced? Dare to dream.

"How can we call ourselves free when the water that we drink comes from some factory."

--- The Swollen Members.

Some make fortunes off the sweat of the less fortunate --- live in penthouses, drive fancy cars, and at the same time forget who really gave them the keys.

I think I need to stop looking if I want to keep smiling.

Vancouver is undoubtedly one of the most beautiful cities in the world. World class? We seem to have forgotten what’s truly important: people, including us, the tourists, and those who are less fortunate --- who happen to be brothers and sisters. Maybe the walk to the store has made us all cold and bitter. Have we become self-absorbed?

It’s no wonder that I’ve read in the paper every day this week: Lindsay’s heading back to rehab. Funny, I don’t recall crashing my Mercedes.

The Solution?

We can’t welcome the world with open arms unless we start being nicer to each other, therefore, smile, drop the attitude, and when you're buying your water, realize some aren't as lucky as you.

.
As the announcer shouts out in London’s Underground: “Mind the Gap.” I’m not so certain Vancouver is minding ours.

We have security guards in our grocery stores protecting the food.

---------

A version of this article originally appeared in 24 Hours Vancouver, and although, Lindsay normally writes about what he sees in his home city of Vancouver (as it prepares for the 2010 Olympics), he feels that this is an accurate view of what is happening in our World today. And frankly, it makes him sad and he asks one question: Is the point of our journey through life the pursuit of fame and trying to get rich regardless of cost, both societal and individually?

Slow down people, life is too precious and if we don't --- we may miss the boat.

Lindsay is a Vancouver based author. For information visit http://www.seedenterprises.com/

---------

Put down the fork

2007-09-15T08:45:00.000-07:00

Put down the fork

by: Lindsay Wincherauk (the seed)
.

Like global warming the evidence is in --- we’re girthing up at an alarming rate.

“People who are 100 pounds or more overweight are the fastest-growing group of overweight people, researchers reported…” - Reuters.

With continued trips to the trough we risk losing sight of our feet, for good.

Experts predict that nearly 100-percent of the North American population will be overweight in our lifetimes. Currently 67-percent of the adult population is overweight --- leaning towards obese.

It’s not only a Western phenomena: for the first time in history, fat people equal the underweight globally and just as people are dropping dead from starvation, others are literally eating themselves to death. “Globesity” has reached epidemic super-sized proportions.

Is it time to place blame? Find a scapegoat?

Mmm… curried scapegoat!

Before we point our stocky fingers at the gluttonous culprits, maybe we should go to the mirror to do a little soul-searching…

It’s easy to blame: restaurants, technology, the internet, portion sizes, friends, family, vending machines… Society seems to resist taking responsibility (perhaps a product of divorce). Our hectic lives have made bringing home the proverbial bacon a challenging feat. Technology is taking children off the playing fields ---- placing them in front of the computer, playing games with ephemeral friends. A product of a increasingly virtual world.

A main aspect of our expanding waistlines is the fact: We’re only doing what we’ve been told to do. We’re brilliant consumers --- of everything! Food is no exception. We’ve gobbled up the slick marketing campaigns and eat, eat, eat… until we find ourselves depressed and then we continue eating for comfort’s sake. Life has left us reeling and we can’t slow down or we risk being passed by the Smiths.

We eat at our desks, in front of the TV, and we eat pizza while walking down the street. Rarely do we sit down as a family anymore for a leisurely dinner --- sharing life as part of the menu.

Instead, we’ve eaten so much that the fashion industry has changed medium to small and large to… Food and dieting is big HUGE business, tipping the scales: over 23-billion dollars has been spent on dieting in the States this year. While at the same time: approximately 22-thousand people die of hunger everyday, globally.

Food for thought:

Fat seems to be an epidemic of the Developed World. We’re constantly being inundated with stories of global warming, war, etc… Could the associated fears have triggered something in our psyche prompting us to eat before the Developing World catches on? Are we preparing to hibernate?

Come along with me and let’s step up to the blame buffet for a moment (sneeze guard optional):

We truly have become a society of blame, blame, blamety, blame… haven’t we? Why accept responsibility, for anything, when we can dump all of our shortcomings on others? Can’t function, uncle Chuck touched me when I was little… so I’m gonna sit on a street corner, mope around, and panhandle. Can’t function, one of my teachers was hard on me, have to eat, cause I couldn’t drop and do twenty. The world is tough, can’t function, can’t function, can’t function, can‘t...

The blame parade intensifies when it comes to getting large. The food manufacturers, the portion sizes, trans fats, computers, a gene, a thyroid condition, my friends, television, I’ve given up stroking the bolt upright, loping the mule… I must eat my esteem has taken a beating… life is too hectic… food is everywhere… argh…they want us to eat, to consume.

All valid excuses… that’s right, excuses. With few exceptions --- that’s all they are. That’s not to discount traumatic events that alter life’s course and need the attention of professionals, however, those too are steeped in depression with far reaching psychological roots. Life, pardon the expletive, is fucking tough. A message for survival: it gets tougher if your heart has to put in extra effort keeping you alive. A blockage here: that’s okay, we’ll reroute the flow. Another blockage: sweat breaks on your brow, a road crew is called in, another rerouting. Another blockage: what’s that… you’ve dropped dead. Who’d you blame now?.. Oh yeah, can’t blame… I’m dead.

Therefore, regardless of the reason/excuse, the only one who can take responsibility for the death march of the food brigade is you. We can continue to blame… to do research in an attempt to find those responsible. We can try to get on a reality show to try to become the biggest “loser”. Or we can simply eat a vegetable, some fruit, and smaller portions. Change our lifestyles instead of letting others change it for us with marketing campaigns. Or die.

It’s that simple, the choice is yours: Door number one: die fat and depressed, bloated with comfort food. Door number two: moderation, variety, exercise, and live a long vibrant life, filled with love, sex, happiness, and a view of your…

I’ll save you the headache of filtering your way through the gamut of research, the reasons the world is getting fat are as follows:

We’re just doing (eating) what we’re told. We’re perfect little consumers. We’ve left others in charge of our lifestyle choices and we’ve taken the easy artery clogging routes.
We’re depressed. (23-billion spent on dieting). An excellent category for a scavenger hunt may be: find someone over 20 who hasn’t at some time said, “I need to lose a few pounds.”
And, that’s about it… argue if you must. Blame if you will. X-large will soon become small if you do.

“Just one more bite. It’s wafer thin.”

“Fuck off! I’m full.”

A last taste of calorie reduced desert: Earlier when I mentioned the Developing worlds psyche, I was kinda kidding. Eating for survival, that sounds ludicrous. Is it?

Unlike the wild where animals survive on instinct, man is supposed to be full of reason and logic and gummy bears. Haven’t we all become obedient sheep? I know it is an abstract concept. Does the average man make his own decisions? You may be asking: what does this have to do with expansion through food?

Bear with me.

We’re fat, yet, we keep eating. We kill others cause we’re told that it is for our survival, without really understanding the reasons why?.. or having a hatred for those we’re killing or even understanding what they believe in. We hate because of color, sexual orientation, and the neighborhood others live in. We buy what we’re told. We attend the same schools. Watch the same television. Independent thought is lauded as long as it falls in line with the powers that be. If you listen to the message that has been sent our way: we’re supposed to divide and conquer, to hate, to profile the enemy, and to protect our rights from those who are, “out to get us”.

Don’t believe me?

The Chinese were given opium and when they became drug addled and divided, their ports we‘re stolen right from under them. Now we fear that they’re recovering and may be out for a little payback, in the form of consumption… wait a sec, we’re not done consuming, yet. How dare they want the same luxuries?

India... a similar story. Oh well… they provide us with cheap products.

We brought slaves to America, stripped away their identities, their history, divided them, took away hope, raped, pillaged, assassinated, introduced drugs… and, you fill in the blanks. Yet, we pretend that racism “is getting better”. Please!

Still claim to be logical and not like a wild animal, surviving on instinct?

By the way, I truly believe, consumption is a product of depression and we’re being ushered down the consumption path by greed. Crazy? Maybe. It’s just a thought.

As those who suffered through the before mentioned indiscretions rebound… a new market place was needed to sell products to. Where’d the corporate world find this market? Right before their eyes. Us. Time to drug us: prescription and illicitly. Distract us: sports, celebrities, and a hectic life schedule, leaving us all too spent to see what really is coming down the pike. Deposit us in fear: global warming, bird flu, obesity stats, hurricanes, English parents killing their children, the news, reality… etc. And, divide us (a product of the previous): divorce.

If we’re confused, tired, living in fear and divided, we become perfect consumers.

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This backpack can provide life saving defense for anyone: school children, educators, journalists and tourists to name a few. This is a full size, ultra leightweight backpack packed with features to make it practical for everyone.”
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“Timmy what did you learn in school today? How was math? Science?”

“I learned to be afraid. I learned others are out to kill me. Me and my friends have started to profile others… the outcasts, the nerds, the people with different skin. I’m so glad that you’ve given me a bulletproof backpack, Daddy.”

Racism, hatred and fear live on! Way to go world. Wait a second, it’s a “need”, you’re not trying to cash in on fear and create more… I’m so sorry, I misinterpreted your intentions. Kids “need” bulletproof backpacks. Something’s wrong with you… us. Fuckers.

So, guess what, I eat… this world sucks. That’s part of the lesson plan if you listen to those trying to stick their greasy little fingers in our pockets by creating “need”. If we buy in, guess what? Bye, bye logic, let’s give into instinct.

And thus, more depression, leading to the smorgasbord of life, and perhaps, just perhaps, an instinctive gluttony in an attempt to survive. Like animals who use up every resource until extinction or till man alters their playing fields leading them to a premature exit; Could man simply be following the same formula? Could man instinctively be eating everything on the table because of fear and inevitably one day become famished because we’ve become so large, so overpopulated, so fuelled by greed and hatred, that there is nothing left to consume. Except of course, for those of us who are fuelled by logic and reason, they'll get to retreat to fully stocked bunkers.

I know when I’ve packed on a few extra pounds, it’s not my fault, someone else raised the fork and pried open my mouth, force feeding me. After a few days of binging I start the logical quest for thin: “This will be the last burger, last cola, desert, whole chicken, box of chocolates, bag of chips, I’ll eat… tomorrow, I’ll hit the gym and work it all off ---change my lifestyle.” Screw that, I’ll just buy some heavier forks.

Anyway you slice it, it’s a serious problem and our health depends on finding a solution. A simple starting point: Sitting down as a family for a leisurely dinner, sharing life.

Or: Put down the fork and assume some responsibility, unless, you don’t like your toes.

Lindsay is a Vancouver based author. For information visit http://www.seedenterprises.com/