A Garden of Memory

As I get older I've come to realize that I've made an unconscious effort to recreate parts of my childhood. I'm not cavorting around the house re-enacting scenes from the Empire Strikes Back with my Star Wars toys or anything (possibly fun to do, but caught outside the presence of a niece or nephew is a sign to call in professional help), but I'm building specific past-times into my life that my parents once held domain. I change my own motor oil in my car, I bake bread using my mom's old bread pans, and I plant flowers and vegetables, for example.

Above is a picture taken in 2007 of my garden when I lived in Winnipeg. This little strip garden allowed me to grow tomatoes, carrots, peas (trained to climb sticks and fishing line to reduce sprawl), beans, radishes, garlic, and marigolds – to help keep out pests. I also had two 24x36 inch wood crates in which I planted basil, oregano, thyme, and chives.

And these were just the edible portions of my little green thumb.

I took a lot of pride in them as I had planted each from seed. I set up lights in my basement for the seedlings to take root, and by June, I'd have planted the seedlings into the ground. I was always fascinated to see my plants at their full growth stages by the end of summer. They tasted fantastic, and familiar. Not familiar in the way foods should taste. That's the least we can ask for, especially if we get them from a grocery store. But these foods evoked memories in me that I had forgotten.

As long as I can remember my family has grown a garden. The garden we had as kids was about 15x30 metres in size and it grew a lot of food. We also had a separate potato patch at my grandmother's double that size. It was a lot of work, but when the whole family contributed, well, you've heard the saying, "many hands make light work." We probably had the energy to do the work because we ate healthy. My mom still grows a garden, but on a smaller scale. As she has gotten older, I asked her once if she still has the energy to plant a garden. I recall she laughed and said something to the effect of, "I don't know what I would do with myself if I didn't have one."

I always get a weird, transportive feeling when I eat fresh vegetables from a garden. I especially love carrots straight out of the ground. I pull out a carrot, brush the dirt off, run water out of a hose to wash it, and take a bite. The flavour sends me back several decades every time, even more decades as I get older. I recall my dad used to laughingly call me "Bugs" when he saw me do this (what parent didn't). It's one memory I will always keep close to my heart.

The home in which I live does not have an appropriate area in the yard to grow vegetables. I also have dogs now and they likely would, by no fault of their own, be curious enough and haphazard enough to destroy it. This year, my wife's uncle down the street tilled an area of his lawn for my wife and I to use. I planted a few things, but most importantly, several rows of carrots. When the time came to eat a fresh carrot out of the ground, I pulled it from the earth, cleaned it off, took a bite, and was immediately sent back to my youth.

The taste of memory makes me smile every time.

The Gravity of Apple

Finally, at 5:30 p.m., August 24, 2010, I looked into my hands with tired eyes at my iPhone 4. I had just completed a marathon wait of over eight hours to own this treasured device.

I know, crazy, right? But I was one of hundreds who came every day to Winnipeg's Apple Store just to have a chance (yes, a chance) of owning an iPhone 4. Apple stores across the world easily ran out of iPhone's before they did customers. By the time I was guided into the store to get mine, there were only about a dozen iPhone's remaining for the day. The only memories I have of waiting in line for anything before this was for rock concert tickets in the early 1990's before the advent of online ticket sales.

For me, this best describes the emotion Steve Jobs intentionally/unintentionally created for his products. They are rock stars, and if you owned anything Apple, you were part of a kinship that stretched across the entire planet. This kinship was never more strongly felt than with Steve Jobs' death on October 5, 2011.

I first heard the sad news on that harbinger of Breaking News, Twitter. I tapped into my feed to blithely scan the days events to see @glendaollero, a former college classmate, simply express, "Oh, Steve. :((("

The world had known that Steve had resigned from Apple as its CEO six weeks earlier due to his health. I felt the worst had occurred, and sadly, I was right. Steve had lost his valiant fight with cancer. I immediately switched the television to CNN. Reports and tributes poured in from millions of people who thought of Steve like he was the beloved uncle they never had time to spend with. People created memorials at the news and lit candles, left flowers, cards, and yes, apples, at Apple stores in cities all over the world.

Through the devices Steve created, many of us felt connected to his vision. Steve was a technological rebel whose innovations rose above (I think) even his own expectations. Apple's product reputation is built on the premise that, "they simply work." By merely adding electricity to an Apple device, it lived up to your expectations within minutes.

A caveat. I've only ever owned Apple computers, but it's for the reason that I just described above. By simply adding electricity, Apple devices have given me, and millions of others, years of virtually stress-free computing (the one time I thought my iMac had died, it had become unplugged). None of my Apple products have ever failed to a point of repair. Reliable software updates and product improvements have made this a reality, and the only Apple product I no longer use is my first, bubble-shaped, iMac G3. I no longer use it because it was stolen years ago during a break-in. Thieves typically have a sharp eye for quality.

Thomas Edison designed inventions that captured electricity and improved the lives of hundreds of millions in the process. Steve Jobs captured the same innovation at Apple and seized the interest and imagination of the entire world.

@RIPSteveJobs  1955-2011

  

A Good Man From My Hometown

Guy Vanderhaeghe moved away from our hometown the year before I was born. Unfortunately for me, I did not discover Guy's writing until my early 30's. Over four decades later, I met him in person last night.

The first novel that I read of Guy's was, The Last Crossing. This work is a trademark of what he does so well: weaving the history of the Canadian west into compelling and engaging fiction. It had been a long time since a book had energized my imagination, and Guy's writing reminded me of the fantastic story-telling that I had been missing for so long.

I soon picked up, The Englishman's Boy, and I was delighted several years later when the Creative Writing class I was enrolled in would study the novel as part of Red River College's Creative Communications program. The Englishman's Boy was equally as enjoyable as my first introduction to Guy's work, but I wanted more works from this eminent author.

That time has arrived.

Guy visited Winnipeg as part of THIN AIR, the Winnipeg International Writers Festival. If the reading he gave from A Good Man last night is any indication, Guy's new novel is another brilliant example of character development and excellent visual storytelling.

I bought A Good Man during last night's THIN AIR festivities and walked across the stage to ask Guy to sign my copy. I shook his hand and introduced myself.

"We share the distinction of coming from the same hometown," I said.
"Oh, really? What's your last name?" Guy answered.
"Berg," I replied, "B-E-R-G." I sometimes do this as my surname comes out sounding like, "bird."
"Hmm, I don't know that one," Guy replied, "But I left town in 1968. It's changed since then."

I was nervous as hell to talk to this man whose writing I admired so much. I was tongue-tied a couple of times, but we talked for a minute or so before I realized the line of people behind me patiently waiting to talk to Guy as well. I was caught off-guard when he asked how I would like my copy of his book dedicated. I hadn't thought that far ahead. He wrote, "To Greg. Best wishes, Guy Vanderhaeghe."

I told Guy that his writing had re-sparked my interest in reading many years ago – an interest I thought I had lost. Guy, in polite form, thanked me for the compliment. I said that I was very excited to read his latest work, and I shook his hand again and returned to my seat. I opened his book and began to read. A Good Man immediately sucked me in and I read several passages until the intermission ended.

As I write this, Guy is on a plane to Toronto in support of, A Good Man. Guy, it was an honour to meet you. Best of luck on your tour and I'm positive your latest novel is headed for great success.

A Story Written In Fire

As fires go, it could have been much, much worse.

Last Tuesday night my wife and I were alerted by a neighbour that sparks were hitting the exterior of our home. Several trees had grown into the hydro wires outside our back yard, and the branches (with help from the incessant rain) were causing the current to come off the wire.

I went outside into our backyard to get a better sense of the danger. The night air smelled like a campfire. The gusting north wind was pushing sparks and tree embers against the side and roof of our home. I called 911, and within five minutes the street was filled with members of Selkirk's Volunteer Fire Department. The tree burned in two places as the fire crew soaked the branches with water from their truck. The fire was out. The immediate danger had passed.

A member of Manitoba Hydro entered our back yard and did his best to assess the damage with his flashlight. It was cold, wet, windy, and dark. The time and weather conditions prevented immediate action. But at 9:30 a.m. Wednesday morning, three members of Manitoba Hydro were in our back yard formulating a plan. There was little to no room for their equipment to trim away the offending branches, so a decision was made to hire an arborist with the proper tools to get the job done.

On Thursday morning, the scream of chainsaws and cracking of tree limbs filled the morning air. Around mid-afternoon, the job and clean-up was complete. There would be no repeat of what we saw 36 hours earlier.

My wife and I thank our neighbour, Holly, who alerted us to the fire. We extend our sincerest thanks to the Selkirk Volunteer Fire Department who dealt with this fire before it got out of hand. Their professionalism is not lost in their volunteer capacity. Many thanks to Alan from Manitoba Hydro who oversaw the tree removal work from start to finish. He understood our concerns for further complications, and because of his attention, Alan and his colleagues at Manitoba Hydro fixed the problem in the timeliest and safest manner possible.

Selkirk's local professionals did an excellent job, but I hope my wife and I don't need them again any time soon. If we do, I know we can rely on them.

The Long Road Home

Driving home from work today I listened to an excerpt from Sidney Crosby's press conference held this afternoon in Pittsburgh. With the NHL hockey season soon sputtering to life, there was no shortage of commentary if one of hockey's greatest talents would return to the ice for the 2011-2012 NHL season.

I'm sure were it not for the clicking of camera shutters, you could have heard a pin drop as "Sid the Kid" opened his mouth to speak, and as he did, Sidney put to rest months of speculation to one of the most storied cases of a sports-related concussion; and it's far from over. It wasn't what hockey fans were hoping to hear, but it was a message that would only be believed if it came from the source.

Sidney Crosby won't be taking to the ice with his Pittsburgh Penguins this NHL season. Flanked by his doctor and the team's GM, Crosby revealed that he needs time for a complete recovery before he can confidently return saying, "I think it's important to get back to where I need to be. And if not, we've seen it many times, you'll get re-occurring issues and I definitely want to stay away from that."

One moment in the conference stood out for me the most. After Crosby provided an update of his condition, he gave the public a small dose of what it needed to hear. Crosby advocated for education of concussions and the frequency of which head hits occur in his game saying, "We've got to make steps to help avoid them."

Canadians love hockey. The game has a unifying effect. But if in the manner of which it is played it removes our best and most exciting talent, the point of the game will soon be lost. We raise some of our youth to excel in sports to their highest degree and then turn a blind eye to what should be tearfully obvious rules to implement. Of the two hits that have taken Crosby out of the game (for now), neither was likely intended to have the effect that they did. But intentional or not, smashing an opponent's face against a half inch thick piece of plexi-glass, or blind-siding a player in the head at center ice in a national game must stop. Anything that could be done to make hockey less of a contact sport should be encouraged and embraced. It needs to happen as soon as possible in order to move up through the younger generations, otherwise the talent we try to nurture will not be seen as athletes but simple entertainment.

There will always be a public thirst for press conferences that draw attention to the athletes we idolize for their achievements. Let's hope in a future not far from now that any new attention can focus on accomplishments, not status updates to what should have been a preventable body injury.

RRC: Two Years After, First Day for Some

I couldn't help but smile today as I thought of the new batch of Cre-comms filing into Princess Street classrooms for their first day of studies at Red River College. They may not know it yet, but they're about to have the best two years of their young lives.

I chose Public Relations for my major in my second year of Creative Communications, and one of the last exercises I was given was a speech writing assignment. The speech was on a school-related topic, and I wrote it for a classmate who read it aloud in front of the class. The topic was on helpful tips a Cre-comm graduate might give to a group of first year students. Themes in the speech touched on time management skills, being a parent while attending school, personal motivation, a social life (or lack thereof), and getting the most out of what RRC has to offer.

One theme that stood out for me the most as I wrote the speech was the type of people you will meet. Your instructors, college staff, and classmates are about to become a big part of your life from now on, but always know that the challenges you will encounter are shared challenges. All of your instructors want what is best for you, and they will teach you the best way they know how in order for you to succeed. The person sitting beside you in class will know exactly what you're going through because they are experiencing the same challenges with you. I would say "good luck," but it's not about luck. Help each other, work hard, and all of you will do well. No question about it.

I know it sounds cliché to say, but I don't know how else to say it.

Except this.

Enjoy your time. The next two years will speed by. The crazy thing is, no matter how hard it becomes, you will miss it once it's all said and done.

I am, A Man Without a Facebook

I am what most would call a late adopter. Up until last week, I still had not seen, The Social Network. Even though the movie came home with many awards at the time, I was left with the thought that the movie was just OK. Even more strange to some, I still resist the urge to create a Facebook profile on the 750 million strong social network site. I must admit, the urge is not a very strong one.

Don't get me wrong, Facebook has brought millions of people together and its prominence and acceptance counts for something. It is a force for good in the world even amidst all the controversy. I simply have many other things that I enjoy doing, and maintaining another personal social media presence is not a high priority. That being said, I look forward to joining Google+ once the door is open to all, and I think Twitter is simply awesome. Social media is only going to grow upward as the desire to express ourselves grows more and more.

Many people ponder as to how this may affect us in the future. One of the worries is that person to person social skills are being supplanted by this new technology, and you would have to be living on the fringes of civilization to not notice: we provide updates to our whereabouts when we drive (in the face of law), we allow ourselves to be interrupted anyplace or time, or we walk down the sidewalk in a trance staring at a 2.5 inch screen, to name a few. There are many examples of poor social media behaviour without even mentioning adultery, though that is a big one.

It's not fair to entirely demonize social media. It's here to stay and if properly used it is a major force for good in the world. Just this morning, I came across a study that showed virtual conversations can help people with autism improve their social abilities. I sometimes wish positive stories such as this gained more attention in mainstream media so that the listening public might hear about them more.

All of this really started today as I came across a funny – and very well-produced – schtick that is a humorous take on a Mel Gibson film called, The Man Without a Face. If you only click on one of the links in this post, click here to see it. And no, I was not consulted for any advice during the production of this film.

Just in case you were wondering.