Heard any Good Books Lately?

I have recently discovered the joy of audiobooks. I still read a lot of paper books, but it can be hard to read them while on a walk or while cooking or working on a puzzle, and last week I dropped my copy of  To See Every Bird on Earth by Dan Koeppel in the bathtub while I was reading it. Audiobooks are hands free. All you need are listening ears, an attention span of sorts, and a subscription to Libby (free through your public library - amazing), or Audible, or Spotify, or any other platform you might find audiobooks on. A few clicks and you're off to the races.

My mother often read to my brother and me when we were little and sharing a room, and when I was in Elementary school teachers read books to the class. My grade five teacher read us The Borrowers by Mary Norton. Those hours became my favourite among the many I had to spend in school. As soon as my teacher began to read I was immersed in the world of those tiny house guests and their adventures. My imagination was captured and I was carried along by my teacher's voice, which was quite pleasant as I remember it now. Being read to is something I had forgotten as an adult, and I am enjoying it. As long as the voice on the audiobook is expressive (without being overly so) and pleasant, and the story or subject is interesting to me, I am happy to listen for as long as my attention or circumstances allow.

The most recent audiobook I listened to was The Third Gilmore Girl by Kelly Bishop. This wonderful autobiography, read by the author, hooked me from the first to the last page. Kelly Bishop played the matriarch of the Gilmore family on a comedy/drama show called Gilmore Girls, which is a series I have watched several times through, first, when it originally came out on the WB network in the early 2000's, and then years later with my girls when Netflix aired it. The show has gained a new and dedicated audience by being on Netflix, which produced a four episode reunion of sorts in 2016. The snappy and clever dialogue and quirky characters written by Amy Sherman-Palladino and her husband, Daniel Palladino, the detailed sets, pop-culture references and complex family dynamic tick fans' boxes for quality entertainment. I admire and respect how Kelly Bishop plays her complex character Emily Gilmore so convincingly as the sharp-tongued yet vulnerable mother desperate to have a better relationship with her daughter Lorelei without really knowing how to go about it. When I found out Kelly Bishop had written a book about her life and her role on one of my favourite shows, of course I wanted to read it. Or listen to it.

Kelly Bishop's autobiography is, to my mind, best heard in her deep, distinctive voice. I would have enjoyed reading a paper copy, but somehow, hearing her tell the story was like sitting down with a beloved aunt who has lived an amazing life and wants to share it with you. From her first days as a ballet dancer, to her Tony-award winning role as one of the original cast members of A Chorus Line on Broadway, to her memorable parts in movies and television, her story is fascinating and encouraging to anyone who has a similar dream. She shares the ups and downs, and through it all the reader/listener is impressed by her grit and determination, and also her lucky breaks, which occur often just when she needs them most. Now in her eighties, she is still working as an actress. The end of her book brought me to tears as I walked with my headphones on, listening in the cold sunshine. She is such a trouper. And she thanks her mom, who was also a trouper, for everything. I like when they thank their moms.

I tried out a new audiobook yesterday. I got about ten percent into the second chapter before I knew it wasn't for me. The reader's voice grated on my nerves. I also could not relate to the story. That's okay, there are plenty of other books to choose from. I went on the Libby app and requested another book I have been meaning to read, A Pocketful of Happiness by one of my favourite actors,  Richard E. Grant. I hope it's read by the author, too. The app said there was a six week wait for a copy to become available. Just like at the brick and mortar library, there are waits for popular books on the Libby app. I will have to find another book to listen to in the meantime. Any recommendations? 

'til next time, 

Rebecca

Confessions of a Strata Council Vice President

They must have seen me coming a mile away. Fresh blood with that ‘I was once on student council’ look. I had not been an owner in the building for long before I was approached by Angela. Join the strata council, she said, it’s not that big a commitment. Ten meetings a year, a few emails, easy. Ha! I know better, I scoffed. I hadn’t been on the arts council for thirteen years – president for six – for nothing. I knew email was the silent killer, and that there was always more work to do than you planned for. I told her to give me a year before asking again. I was burnt out. I needed time to resettle with my family.

A year later, another council member knocked on my door. I liked Fred. He lived just down the hall from us. He talked me into it. Okay, fine, I said. Not many months after I joined, Fred had the audacity to move to the Okanagan. He had replaced himself with me. Jerk. Or maybe Fred was just smart. Succession planning in action.

We’ve owned our condo for eight years. I have been on the council for seven of those, more or less. I had to take time off to recover from a head injury in 2020. Other than that spell, I have volunteered my time to the cause. There are perks to being on the council. I like knowing what is going on with my building, maintenance-wise, even though I only own one sixty-second of it. The interesting thing about condo ownership is that you own your unit, but you also own a share of the common property and pay for its upkeep with a strata fee relative to the square footage of your unit. Common property in our building is the hallways, the elevator, the building’s mechanical and plumbing workings, the lobby, the exercise room, the parkade, the parking lot, the landscaping, the guest suite and adjacent washroom, the roof, the exterior, and the exterior infrastructure stuff like drainage. I appreciate having a say in how the common property is maintained and improved. Our building is twenty years old this year. In West Coast terms, twenty is considered an ‘older building’. Shocking, I know, but ongoing maintenance is necessary, especially in a damp climate. The provincial government has now required all strata councils to order a depreciation report and dedicate ten percent of all strata fees to a contingency fund. Too many condo owners in the province have been subject to crippling levies as a result of poor management. I personally know of a large complex where individual owners had to come up with eighty thousand dollars each to reconstruct the entire building’s envelope due to years of water damage from wind and rain. It is in my best interest to be involved. Of course, every owner receives strata council meeting minutes. They only have to read them to stay informed. They can also vote on new amendments and resolutions at annual general meetings. Another perk is being an integral part of one's community. I like to bring a lightheartedness to our meetings. Unless there is an element of fun to volunteering, I am likely to lose heart and interest. 

Are there downsides to joining a strata council? Sometimes. We recently had to hold a mediation meeting for two owners who were basically at war with each other. We had never done that before. We set strict parameters for the meeting, keeping in mind that any action we took would set a precedent for future similar situations. The meeting was not comfortable, but I believe it achieved what we set out to accomplish, which was satisfying. I have also had panicked calls from people when water is dripping from their light fixtures. Many new condo owners are inexperienced. They own their units, but they don’t quite understand that the strata council members are not landlords. We can advise (in this case I told the owner to run upstairs and knock on the door of the unit above. Sure enough, the person above had let their tub overflow), but the responsibility to call their insurance company and deal with damage is their own responsibility.  Additionally, as stated earlier in this post, much of our business between meetings is done by email. Unless you are good at keeping up with this brand of correspondence, then strata council is not for you. I had to set up a separate email account due to the sheer volume of emails I send and receive weekly for strata business.

While the building next door is self-managed, we in our larger building employ a property management company. They send a representative to our meetings, seek out quotes for maintenance work, take care of meeting minutes and archive them, keep track of contractors, look after our accounting, negotiate insurance, handle legal advice, and communicate with owners on our behalf, acting as a buffer in difficult situations. They can also be very helpful in emergencies. As far as we’re concerned employing a good management company is money well spent.

Our current strata council has seven members. Only two of us are under sixty, mainly due to the fact that retired and semi-retired people have time to volunteer. I need to start looking around at other owners for future members. Perhaps one day soon I will pull a Fred. I will find a fresh-faced youngish person and invite them to join council, and then ten months later, abandon them. Just kidding. Sort of.

‘til next time,

Rebecca

*Angela and Fred are fake names to protect the innocent

Blogger offered to insert links in this post. I allowed it in case anyone out there would like to learn more about this dull topic. Please don't get mad at me if the links are all AI slop.

 

 

An Engaging Topic

My husband and I were living it up in Vancouver, celebrating our wedding anniversary. We had spent the night at a guest house after indulging in a grand meal at the sort of restaurant people like us only go to once in a blue moon, and decided, for nostalgic reasons, to go for brunch at Sophie's Cosmic Cafe, a Vancouver institution, before heading home. Sophie's is chock-a-block with vintage chachkies and brightly coloured walls, and serves old-school breakfasts. V ordered an egg and sausage platter, and I ordered the French toast. We drank coffee (my half decaf Americano was actually kind of awful, but I didn't complain because the food was so good) and tucked into our meals. 

Like many restaurants, Sophie's had music playing at a good volume through the speakers. I noticed as we ate, that the playlist was vintage, like the restaurant and its contents (and some of its patrons). I hummed along to the tunes while V and I enjoyed our brunch experience, my mom's voice in my head saying "No singing at the table" silenced. A song came on that I had loved as a kid, "Don't Bring me Down" by ELO (Electric Light Orchestra). I had finished my breakfast and was sipping my bad coffee, alternating with ice water, and started singing along quietly. Suddenly, I heard a voice in the booth behind me, also singing along quietly. We both noticed each other singing at the same time and turned around to see to whom the other voice belonged. The chorus came up and we sang to each other, just a little louder,  

                    Don't bring me down

                    No, no, no, no, no

                    Ooh-ooh-hoo

                    I'll tell you once more before I get off the floor

                    Don't bring me down

People near us started staring. We didn't care. We sang the whole song together. Songs you knew when you were young tend to stay locked in your brain forever. I remembered most of the lyrics, even singing 'Don't bring me down BRUCE' instead of 'groos' as it's supposed to be, because I had never learnt the original version of the line. When the song was over we shook hands and introduced ourselves. Turns out the man I was singing with was celebrating his seventieth birthday, and sharing brunch with some good friends who had flown in for the occasion from Winnipeg. We all chatted for a bit in a jovial manner befitting a birthday celebration, and the man thanked me for singing with him - said I had made his day. He invited us to his birthday party (I'm not sure he really meant it), but we said we had to be going home.  

The experience I had at Sophie's brought to the fore some thoughts I have had lately, about how people these days engage (or don't) with the world. I grew up in a boisterous family in a small town where we knew almost everyone. Most of my siblings will still talk to anyone, anywhere. I am a bit more reserved than some of my family, but in the right moment and mood I can have great interpersonal exchanges with strangers. People often talk about how unfriendly Vancouverites are, but I have found that you often get what you give. My experience at Sophie's is a perfect example. Sure, I don't do impromptu karaoke in restaurants on a regular basis, but I tend to have friendly exchanges with people more often than not if I begin the exchange by being open and friendly towards them. I have to say, this happens more often with people who are my age or older. The pre-cellphone generations are much more used to greeting each other and initiating conversation. I find, even in my own mid-sized home city, that young people rarely make eye contact with me if I am walking down the street. It's like they are trained not to. When I do get a greeting or a smile I am pleasantly surprised. I do not want to harp on the younger generations. It's not their fault. They are a product of the society they grew up in. But, I do want to encourage them to engage more outside of their social bubble. As you get older life can often get decidedly lonelier. We are more isolated than ever before. If you don't believe me, Google the subject. There are a thousand articles proving my claim and warning of the dangers prolonged social isolation can wreak on one's mental health. 

There is a passage in a book I am reading by Ann Cleeves, the great mystery novelist, that reads: 

"When Jen got home, the kids were holed up in their rooms again. They answered when she shouted up at them, but they didn't come down. There was evidence that they'd scavenged for food. She thought that prison wouldn't be any sort of deterrent for this generation, as long as they were allowed cell phones and internet access in their cells." 

Makes you think, doesn't it? God, I hope it does.

I also have to work on reaching out more. After going through burnout a few years ago, I isolated myself to a great degree, just to get some rest. I had been an incredibly social person who tended to attract similar friends. When I think back to my 30's and 40's I was rarely alone. Now I am alone a lot of the time. I don't generally mind because I have learned to like my own company and a quieter life than before, but I know I need companionship so I make the effort to engage when I am out and about. I greet people, especially elderly people, I make small talk with sales people and servers, and I compliment young parents on their cute children if they'll let me. While I hope I am brightening their day, I am the one who benefits most. And, if I can 'make someone's day' like the man in Sophie's Cosmic Cafe, then I get an extra-big boost of serotonin. Engaging is good for me, and I will argue that it is good for you, too. 

https://youtu.be/z9nkzaOPP6g?si=K2URmgx1QohGifRE

                   

'Til next time, 

Rebecca

Generation Cell Phone

I've been thinking about how each generation of children we raise lives in a different world than the one before it, and how that affects parenting those kids. I have three kids who would be considered young Millenials and one that would be considered GenZ. I know various factors contributed to their style of upbringing, but with the rate of change being as drastic as it is in this age of rapidly advancing technologies, even in the five year gap between my third and fourth children (both being girls) I noticed a difference. This main difference was the hand held pocket personal computer and communication device known more commonly in this country as the cell phone. And, I'm not just talking about my youngest's possession of one and how that affected her life, but of my own. 

I put off having cell phones in our home as long as I possibly could. My husband was issued a flip phone for work, but the rest of us did without phones, and no one thought to ask for one because they were yet to become commonplace among their peers. We did have the family computer in the living room, and we all took our turns to do schoolwork or writing projects, play games from DVDs like Magic School Bus and I Spy, Lego Harry Potter and LOTR, watch YouTube videos, download music, and play Club Penguin when those online activities came along. Often there would be more than one kid sitting at the computer at a time, sharing their experience together. One of my kids was loaned a Game Boy in Grade Five from a friend, and when I saw how addicted he became I asked him to give it back and never borrow it again. My older daughter somehow talked us into letting her get a Nintendo DS with the digital pen thingy when she was a pre-teen, but she never seemed to become as addicted as her brother had to the Game Boy. My goal was always for my children to develop their 'real world' interests first and use the digital gadgets as a tool for relaxation and entertainment on a limited basis.

I remember waiting in the elementary school yard for my youngest. A woman asked me if I was on Facebook. I told her, ugh no, that if I wanted to communicate with people from high school I would do it the old fashioned way - I wouldn't. A couple of years later my eldest who was in high school asked if he could get a Facebook account. I told him yes, but I would get one, too, and then he would have to be my 'friend' on the site. Facebook was this scary unknown to me then, and I feared losing awareness of what my son was up to. Little did I know the only thing he would use it for was posting music videos and messaging friends about social gatherings. He was the first to leave the site a few years later, too. To him, Facebook was lame already. Not so for me, I found. To my surprise, it was actually really fun to reconnect with old school-mates, my large, scattered family, and acquaintances in this limited way. For many of us it became a way to cheer each other on from afar, and to make each other laugh. People were sharing their travels, their kids' achievements, their health struggles, and their hilarious daily foibles. I soon became rather addicted to all the daily updates, and anyone who is 'friends' with me on Facebook knows I am a regular contributor. I do know my life would be lonelier without it, especially during Covid when digital connection became so vital to many of us. I know it seems I digress. We were talking about cell phones, but social media is a huge part of their use. 

I remember the day I told my husband I couldn't put off having a cell phone any longer. My job was requiring my use of one. We went to the Koodo kiosk at the mall and signed me up. By that time, flip phones were not the norm any longer. The phone I chose had a touch screen and so, in addition to being connected to the cellular network, it hooked up to our home WiFi. My carrier was Shaw, so free WiFi was available in lots of places. Unlike with the computer, I could lie down on the couch and read articles, scroll Facebook, and message people. I'm not going to lie, that was a revelation. One by one, my three older kids got phones as well, although they were well into their late teens. When all three of my older children had moved away to attend college or university, my youngest and I thought, with her busy schedule, that she should get a basic phone, too, so we could communicate on pick-up times from her theatre rehearsals in the next town. If I remember correctly, she was thirteen when I got a new phone and she inherited my old one. Fortunately, my youngest was too busy at the time to become completely addicted to her screen, and she was very handy as a tech assistant when her dad or I couldn't figure something out on our phones. 

The other day I was remembering my youngest and I sitting in our living room when she still lived at home, both looking at our phones. I compared it to the days when she or I, or other members of our family, would sit at the computer in the living room, whatever we were doing open and available to the rest of the family, opposed to both of us isolated with our little screens in our own little worlds. Most of the time she was chatting with her friends and theatre colleagues, while I scrolled social media or read articles, or chatted with family and friends of my own, losing track of time. I wondered how this change had affected our lives in a deeper sense. I know teenagers deserve to have privacy at times, but to be honest, I think personal phones have  given them too much privacy and too much information available 24/7 to absorb - a lot of it sad and/or alarming. Of course, the difference from my own girlhood is huge. I couldn't even have a private telephone conversation in our house, the corded phone being on the wall in the very center of a small house full of up to nine people at any given time. And, TV news was limited to an hour or so a night. I also wondered how my time spent isolating myself with my phone made a difference to her life, or was it just normal to her - part of the culture of the late 2000's that she took for granted? I know there are scholars out there studying the effect of technology on our brains and we are still learning. I know I have made changes in my own consumption. I turned off the Facebook and Instagram notifications on my phone, and I have learned to recognize in myself when I have become over-saturated with information and screen time. Fortunately, I feel like I have struck a balance with the devices in my life, but it took a long time. That we expect our kids to figure this out on their own is a big ask in my opinion.

I can't help but wonder how the younger moms and dads raising Generation Alpha are doing dealing with all that the world is throwing at their families. Probably their best, as most of us have done before them, learning, failing and winning as we go. 

Until next time, 

Rebecca

The Social Media Frenzy

I am writing this post from our little mountain home surrounded by trees and near-silence. There is nothing like the peace of this place and the mental clarity after a few good sleeps in a row to provide perspective and encourage me to write something. We do have WiFi and Satellite up here so fortunately or unfortunately, depending how you see it, we are connected to the outside world, although I tend to use this physical distance as a reason to keep my connectivity to a minimum. Cell service is not yet available here, so that is one form of communication banned to me in any case. I find these mini retreats in the mountains to be excellent for my mental health. I tend to become a little bogged down when I spend too much time online getting bombarded by all the headlines, and the wildly varying opinions (withering scorn is definitely in fashion) on those headlines. I tend not to sleep all that well during my work week, which makes me more vulnerable and emotional and ill-equipped to manage the bombardment and put it in its proper place. While I am all for technology and the improvements it has made to my life I am also well aware of the need to take regular breaks from Social Media.

As a person who grew up without Social Media I often think about how it affects my life and the lives of those around me. Like millions of others I participate almost daily in the digital communities of Facebook and Instagram. I enjoy viewing photos and videos from friends and family members and living vicariously through their travel photos and postings. I add occasional quips and comments on various media sites, and generally enjoy the entertainment value my little online world supplies. I opened a Twitter account for a short time but gained very little from time spent there. I found Twitter a somewhat cold and calculated form of interaction. I decided to leave it to the journalists, politicians and film stars. Social Media is how I keep track of the activities of my widespread large extended family, keep abreast of events in my community, and communicate with many loved ones and acquaintances. I post often but try not to engage in anything overly negative or emotionally draining. At one time I did venture down those uncertain paths and nearly always ended up more upset and with nothing to show for my time and effort. I know many people use Social Media to promote causes, and that is wonderful (mostly). I have donated to some worthy campaigns because I read about them on Social Media, but I am rarely politically influenced by what I read online. Before I support or oppose a cause I listen to the radio, read a newspaper or watch the news to see what is really happening out there in the world from a trained journalistic standpoint. Sometimes Social Media only gives us the sound bites, and I need a bit more than click bait to be truly informed about local and global situations. Call me old fashioned.

I remember telling my kids they could only join Facebook if I was included in their Facebook circle. I was unsure of the impact Social Media would have on them and wanted to be part of their online lives. Turns out they were generally smarter than I was at managing online. While I, new to Social Media, put far too much stock into what was promoted there, my children took it all with a grain of salt, unfriending people willy-nilly if they were fed up with their posts. My kids share occasional photos and music but mostly they just tag each other in memes and silly bird videos. The online world was a language they grew up with and they seemed to know how to manage it instinctively. I do not think all kids do, however. I limited screen time for my kids from an early age and they developed plenty of other interests. We also enjoyed a lot of family time. We suffered some bumps along the road - we were all learning how to navigate this strange new world - but overall they learned how to use this new power for good. I think it is the kids who grow up with a screen as babysitter who might have the most difficulty. For various reasons, their parents are not monitoring their activity online and it takes an aware and wise child to, alone and without any guidance, field all the dangers and temptations presented to them.

One thing which also worries me about Social Media is how addicted we are to it as a way to present ourselves and put ourselves out there. While I was at work the other day I had a thought. If actions speak louder than words, how effectively does our presence on Social Media show our true selves? When we communicate with others online we can orchestrate everything. We can choose only the best photographic versions of ourselves to share. We can begin typing something and then erase it before it is sent. We don't have to be vulnerable in front of an actual person and learn from our mistakes. Is this bringing up an entire generation of people afraid to make eye contact and relate human to human? Or more than afraid, unable? I know I am less socially inclined than I used to be, and I wonder how much this has been the result of engaging almost daily on Social Media.

Engaging in Social Media can be isolating, too. I know when a certain feeling comes over me it is time to put the phone down, get up and do something productive. I admit to learning the hard way. I am not very good at multi-tasking. When I am online and my kid asks me something it often takes her yelling Mom! at me to get me to break my focus. I like my own company but I know when I need to be with a real person, to sense the nuances in our conversations, to feel their energy, their warmth and their interest. The digital community can make me think, make me laugh and cry, but it can never supply me with human interaction and love, two things I need. Don't we all? We have to remind each other to limit our digital communication and expand our person-to-person interaction. We have to look into each others eyes when we talk, and nag our kids to do it, too. We are using our phones and computers as guards against vulnerability, and perhaps even accountability. Social Media is a powerful tool, and awareness of its power is the first step toward managing it properly, so it doesn't, in turn, end up managing us.

A Modern Christmas Casualty

I really have no idea for how many years I wrote an annual Christmas letter full of news of the kids, our latest escapades and injuries, career moves and camping holidays. Maybe twenty? Maybe more. After time ran out this year for a Christmas letter I tried to sit down and write a New Years version, and nothing happened. I came out of the study where I keep our laptop on a nice desk with all the things around I need to pull off similar missives, flopped down by my husband on the couch and said, "I'm not feeling it this year."

I wonder if my annual Christmas letter writer's block comes from having a family growing up, moving out and moving on. I wonder if it comes from my active connectivity over social media sites such as Facebook and Instagram. Nearly everyone out there knows what we've been up to, how our son graduated from university in the spring, how we bought a condo and moved house for the second time in a year, how our youngest will play Lumiere in this year's production of Beauty and the Beast, that I got a new job as a baker for a lovely little artisan bakery. Do they know our older daughter returned to school full time to finish her degree? I don't know, but it feels like that might be the only unknown thing I would write about in a letter. That must be it - everything I would write about would feel like old news, trite, like gilding a lily as they say.  Perhaps, thanks to technology, we may have evolved beyond the Christmas letter. Evolving is fine. Life isn't meant to stay one way forever and I suppose forcing myself to produce the same sort of greetings year after year simply feels pointless now. Now that this year is a washout, I do look forward to sending some sort of personal greetings next year, but in what form?

We had a massive snow storm here after Christmas. One of the mail carriers apparently slipped and fell on the ice, breaking her leg. Perhaps the Post Office cancelled home delivery after that because we saw no mail for days. The weather improved and we received mail yesterday. In our box along with the VISA bill and a notice from our daughter's school was a Christmas card from a friend. She had written a few personal lines and signed off with love and best wishes. Her card joined the few others on the mantle. Gone are the days when a long clothesline-type string was hung with dozens of cards from friends near and far. We haven't lost the friends and family who used to send them - we have stopped sending as many cards as we used to as well. Postage is pricey and emailing and Facebook are 'free'. As Christmas approached I added my greetings, accompanied by a photo of our Christmas tree, to the chorus of similar posts online. While digital Christmas cards are lovely, you can't cut them up into recycled gift tags the next year. Honestly, I treasure the Christmas cards I receive no matter how they are sent, but the paper ones seem extra special nowadays.

I know how busy everyone is. I am busy, too. The rush up to Christmas seems jammed with activity, at work and at home. When I was a stay-at-home mom I found time to do everything I wanted to do for the holiday, and I loved it. Now, I seem to have less energy to spare beyond the required baking and cooking and parcels for our moms. Our younger son and older daughter came home for Christmas. They asked what they could help with and I gave them a few jobs. Daughter make Gingerbread cookie dough. Son wrapped gifts and did dishes. The to-do list which would have taken me all day was conquered by noon. Aha! I thought. I forgot what it was like to have help. With my husband working out of town much of the week and our youngest spending most of December dividing her time between school work and rehearsals, I am on my own with most of the tasks. Something had to give, and this year it was the Christmas letter. Perhaps I will write one next year. Somehow I doubt it. I will, however, try to send paper Christmas cards. We should, after all, give what we like to receive.

Wishing everyone a happy, prosperous, peaceful New Year,

Rebecca

Harnessing Technology

I grew up in the 1970's and '80's when electronic technology was just starting to exit the highly specialized environment and entering the mainstream. I remember when Xerox machines replaced the mimeograph machines that our elementary school's newspaper was copied on, and when VHS machines replaced the reel-to-reel movies we watched during assemblies. I remember the wonder of the cassette tape and how blanks could be purchased and recorded on to make the fabulous custom mixed-tapes of my generation. I had a friend who was lucky enough to own an Atari game system, and I spent many quarters in an effort to perfect my games of Pacman and Donkey Kong down at the mall arcade. Personal computers did not enter my classroom until high school when I took a course in Word Processing. 'Computers have a language that is completely based on logic,' our teacher told us. If memory serves me right I did not do particularly well in that class, computer logic was indeed an uncomprimising new language, but I learned a lot. The '80's were a time of major development in technology, but as we now know, it was just the beginning of a brave new world of gadgetry previously only thought of in Science Fiction.

I heard a story the other day about a dad who decided to ban from his home for a year all devices that were invented after 1985. He claimed that smartphones, ipods and laptops were taking over the life of his family and causing them to lose the ability to communicate. As a result of the ban he said his family now talked to each other, had more fun and got more exercise. He decided to embark on the experiment in order to get his children to appreciate their family more and keep their digital devices in perspective. When my kids were little we participated in a 'no TV for a week' event annually, which was great, but I'm not sure I would want to force my family to go cold turkey on post '85 technology for an entire year. Mind you, none of my kids have had their own computers until they entered their last year of high school or their own cellphones until they were old enough to sign their own contracts. I did ban video game systems from our house until my kids were teenagers. They could play video games on the computer, but the time available to do so was limited due to all six of us sharing one computer for many years. My youngest daughter inherited an ipod Touch last year from her brother and she began to spend a lot of time on it. One day I found her playing a game on it in the bathtub. After lecturing her about how electronics and water do not mix, I took the ipod away, put it in a drawer where we both forgot about it. I found the ipod months later and gave it back to her, but she didn't want it anymore. Perhaps separation did not make the heart grow fonder in her case. I suppose the aforementioned dad is hoping his experiment will achieve similar results.

As I sit here at my desk, writing this piece on my Gateway PC with its beautiful big high definition screen, I am inclined to think rather favourably of the digital age I am living in as an adult. The other night, my husband and I drove to Vancouver to hear our son play in his first concert with the UBC symphony orchestra. The Chan Centre was packed with people, and I am willing to bet several of them had heard about the free concert via social media. I, myself, had spread the word on Facebook and by email and so, beside and behind me sat several Vancouver members of my family. The concert was being recorded and transmitted by livestream audio. Across the province in Nelson, my mother was listening to the first half of the concert on her computer before she went to bed. She would listen to the rest of it the next day. She sent a message to her grandson via Facebook to tell him how proud of him she was and how much she enjoyed the concert. Some day we will take this sort of thing for granted as our children do, but I still marvel at such magical invention.

I am continually amazed at the rapidity with which we humans are changing our world, and I believe it is a good thing, for the most part. Certainly we are experiencing growing pains. When I see all those people with their heads bent over their smartphones I cannot help but think negatively about spending all that time with a device which both connects them to the world and isolates them from their neighbour at the same time. On the other hand, my sister, a journalist, delightedly uses her phone on the job to take photos, type text and send the story instantly to her editor. I have also heard plenty lately about how ipod earphones are hurting the ears of an entire generation, but my husband certainly enjoys listening to his playlist while he rides his bike. Facebook has recently been proven in one study to cause happiness and in another, feelings of isolation and loneliness. Youtube has a lot of garbage on it, but the site is also home to thousands of helpful how-to videos on everything from the various methods of cutting a mango, to the correct way to wrap a sprained ankle. My violinist son learned many techniques from masters on the internet, which aided him immensely in learning a difficult Bach fugue. My own 77 year old dad is beginning work on a series of instructional videos featuring his unique and proven method of teaching music. Filmed in the comfort and convenience of his home studio, he will be able to share his research with anyone who has access to the internet.

I suppose the key to technology is to use it, not let it use us. Perhaps like the dad who has taken his family back to that age of relative technological innocence, we all need to take a step back - okay, maybe not all the way back to the 80's, but you get the idea - and assess our own relationship with technology. Scientists are now questioning the health of our airwaves and the effect on our brains in this Wi-Fi world, but their findings have not lessened sales of the newest $700 smartphones. Thinner gadgets are more difficult to repair and must be thrown away more often. Even the recycling of electronics is not without controversy due to the heavy metals used to create them. And those are just the physical effects. The effect on the psyche can be just as serious. I once had to back off Facebook for a good long while. I was starting to engage in conversations and even arguments (with people I never saw in person) that were making me miserable and taking far more energy than they warranted. I no longer 'go there' on Facebook. I now see Facebook as a 'take it or leave it' sort of thing, and I am much, much happier. I know that if I wanted to make a career out of blogging I would have to spend hours a day networking and whatnot, and I am not, at this stage, prepared to do so. The relationship I have with the world wide web is rewarding and figures largely in my life, but it is not dominating. That being said, as a child of the 70's and 80's I am often tempted to think that I, not to mention my children, spend far too much time looking at a screen as it is. However, as much as I can relate to the motivation behind 'back to the '80's dad' I would much rather embrace the future and make it work for me and for my family if I possibly can.

Fifteen Seconds of Fame

I am going to be on T.V. I was interviewed yesterday morning for a spot on the Chilliwack cable access channel, Shaw TV, in my capacity as a spokesperson for the community arts council with which I have been involved for over nine years. I am not sure how many people watch Shaw TV, but they do have several community programs on the go, and a certain audience base. The interview will also be seen by all those who go to the channel for the television listings which take up the bottom half of the screen while my spot, and many others like it, are airing; so, I am imagining competing with what is on at 5 pm, 8 pm, 11 pm...etc. I am also imagining my son responding to my being on Shaw TV by quoting Austin Powers: "Whoop-dee-do, Basil".

I was having a wild hair day yesterday because I am letting it grow out a bit and it is presently at its winged stage, but I ran my fingers through it and put on my best moss green wool jacket over a black t-shirt and went off to meet the TVcrew at the arts council gallery. The crew turned out to be one multi-talented fellow, whose voice I had heard for years on the station, although I had yet to see his face. While he set up his equipment, gave me a clip-on microphone and adjusted the camera settings he told me to take a deep breath if I was nervous, which honestly, I was not; a bit keyed up is a more accurate description. I have given so many speeches in that gallery as to be quite comfortable babbling away by now. The great thing about being interviewed by a professional is that it is his job to make you feel at ease. I did not have to look at the camera at all and just answered his questions to his face, which appeared open, interested and friendly. The show presently on display in the gallery is a retrospective of work by an abstract artist who passed away in 2010. I had interviewed the artist's husband who sponsored the show, and co-written a newspaper article on the artist's life, so I was well able to answer the interviewer's questions at length with, I think, some clarity, which was a great relief. Of course, afterwards, I remembered all the little things I had forgotten to say in the interview, but the guy who works in one of the back offices of the gallery has been interviewed several times for the same channel in his capacity as a spokesman for the local festival of the arts, and he assured me that the interview would be edited to such a degree as to barely resemble my expectations of it.

Of course, the experience of being filmed and interviewed, which was a new one for me, got me thinking about the concept of having one's face on television for the public to see. I remember in college, an older male friend suggested, somewhat teasingly, that I become one of those news readers on TV. Perhaps it was my 'all Canadian girl' look. People are often telling me I look like I come from Saskatchewan. I'm not sure if, in their eyes, that is a compliment or not. My cheeks are always pink, so perhaps I have a permanent look of having just come in from the cold.  I think it would get a little depressing, reading all that bad news hour after hour, day after day..."and today, more bombing in Syria"...and such. Nevertheless, I considered a career in broadcasting for a short time, mainly because I loved, and still love, radio, but the consideration passed and I went on to other things. My sister Monica is the reporter in the family these days, although my dad wrote for his university paper and then the Vancouver Sun for a short stint. Monica is naturally curious, loves a good story and very much enjoys talking to people about any manner of subject. She is also quite community minded, has a good sense of the bigger picture of a situation and knows which questions to ask. She writes for a newspaper these days, but her dream job, she tells me, would be to work for CBC Radio. I'm not sure if she has ever considered working in TV.

I am amazed at the advancements in the world of television that have been made since I was born. When I was a baby cable television was a new thing. My family did not have cable, but as I was growing up I never really felt denied because all the major shows like The Muppet Show, Magnum P.I., Remington Steele, The Wonderful World of Disney, Family Ties and The Cosby Show were broadcast on our two channels via our television's antenna. Then along came satellite dishes the size of something out of Close Encounters of the Third Kind, and PayTV. I remember watching Superchannel at a friend's house, and having to pretend that horror movies didn't scare me to death. Television and movie stars, to us back then, still had an aura of mystery about them and lived in a magical land far, far away, but with the introduction of VCR's and expensive home video recorders, suddenly having one's face on the screen was not that unusual. And, with local cable access shows popping up everywhere, any high school student who was truly interested in a career in television could volunteer at the station and work their way up from there.

With the invention of YouTube anyone with a video recording digital camera and a computer could have their 'fifteen minutes of fame'. I don't watch a lot of YouTube or other internet channels, but I have read about various television stars popping up with unusual and often quirky programs which are available for viewing only on the internet by an astonishing amount of people around the world. The attraction to those stars who make these internet shows must be complete creative control: no network executives breathing down their necks over content and accepted standards (yet), no censors really to speak of, low production expenses, and immediate release of episodes. My filmmaker daughter is bemoaning these changes  somewhat. She says YouTube used to be about the amateur filmmaker, the little guy. The YouTube home page used to have equal representation of all sorts of videos according to subject matter, not according to number of views. Now, she says, only those videos with millions of views are featured. People like her can still make and upload their videos, but the chances of them being seen are becoming more and more limited.

I have a natural curiosity to see myself on television, perhaps because television was such a big part of my childhood as it was for so many of us who grew up in the last half of the 20th century. I suppose I will have to start watching the TV listings channel more regularly to try and catch my spot. Besides in my capacity as speech maker for the arts council - we commissioned my daughter to make a montage of scenes from one of our annual gala events in which I make a brief appearance on our website - I have never been in any of the films my daughter has made and uploaded to her YouTube channel. She did once film her sister and I dancing around the kitchen singing along to "I'm on my way, from misery to happiness today...uhu uhu uhu uhu" by The Proclaimers. Fortunately, that video is stored deep in the files of this machine, where it will remain. I'm certainly not after fame at any price; yes, I am showing my age.

Here are The Proclaimers with 'I'm on my Way'. Because they do it best, of course.

Shrinking the Generation Gap

It must be a challenge sometimes for the elderly to stay hopeful in this world, especially when so many of them watch daytime television. If the world were truly represented by what is available as news and 'reality' TV, even Pollyannas would lose their irrespressible optimism. The world has changed a great deal over the past century, and those who have been through one or both of the Great Wars really must feel as though they have seen all there is to see. The advancements in technology alone are enough to make one's head spin; for example, cable television used to require only a cable plugged into the wall and voila! Now, it requires research and excess equipment, decisions about PVRs and digital boxes, and mysterious contracts in a language hitherto unfamiliar to most people.

Thanks to the digitally shrinking globe we are surrounded, bombarded almost, with the events of the day from around the world. It takes a bit of detachment and a philosophical attitude to keep everything in perspective. I can see how an elderly person might be tempted to despair if all they see of the younger generations are bad news stories and the baggy-pants swagger of the texting, smoking, swearing young who hang around outside the shops of our downtown streets.

Some good friends of ours, Jim and Diane and their two children, live on a farm just outside of town. On their farm are two houses, theirs which they built and a larger one which was once the family home of Jim's parents. A few years ago, Jim and Diane renovated a section of the house for their elderly friend, Ella. Ella is now 95. She cooks for herself, still drives her red sedan, and likes things around her, home and garden, arranged just so. Jim keeps her house warm by tending the fire and looks after any maintenance issues which may arise. Most of Ella's family live in the U.K. but she is by no means friendless. She enjoys company but like any elderly person, in small doses. She enjoys the view of mountains and fields in the distance and the pond with its bird life only a few meters from her kitchen windows. Wonderfully, Ella spends time most mornings playing one of two pianos in the spacious, light-filled living room of her apartment. Ella has maintained her amazing sight reading ability, and having heard her play once or twice, I can attest to her tremendous talent.

I have had a few conversations with Ella, mainly outside the greengrocer we both frequent, and while she is sharp and quick-witted, she has gained a rather jaded view of mankind in his present form. The world is often referred to as 'going to hell in a handbasket' or something like it. Families don't stay together anymore, children are badly behaved and have no attention span, no-one has any discipline, people are far too materialistic, politicians are evil, crime is rampant, life used to be simpler, life used to be better. She subscibes to cable via a sattelite dish, and enjoys television which I will admit can be fine company depending on the show, but perhaps, as stated above, it can be blamed for some of her despondency. I can hardly blame Ella; I sometimes get fed up with the world as well, but perhaps my relative youth and health work in my favour and I can never despair for long. My children and their friends and cousins with their talents, their energy and their optimism serve as examples (most days) of why there is also hope for the future.

On an evening before the Christmas break, our local high school put on a band concert. As has been the tradition for two years now, my violinist son Galen played a solo sometime during the concert. This time he teamed up with his pianist friend, Kieran to play a duet of Vittorio Monti's Czardas. Unbeknownst to us, while they were rehearsing during their lunch hours in the band room, they were concocting a slightly comical rendition of the piece. They realized that they had to turn their pages at precisely the same moment in the piece, and rather than appeal to friends to turn their pages for them they decided to perform the song in a style similar to the great classical music comedien Victor Borge. When it was time to turn their pages, they would stop, turn them together, then start up again. What made it so funny and surprising for the audience was the fact that they were so skilled at their instruments, but willing to show the lighter side of 'serious' music.

Diane and Jim happened to be at the concert that night and thoroughly enjoyed the boys' performance. A week or so later I received a call from Diane. Apparently, Ella had recently been partnered with a student from the local academy of music. The student came out to Ella's house and attempted some duets with her. For whatever reason the partnering was not a success, and the search was continuing for a suitable partner. And that is where Galen came into the picture. Would he be interested in playing some duets with Ella, whom he had met once or twice? Diane had heard Galen at the concert and thought, 'aha! There is the perfect partner for Ella.' Should she approach Ella with the plan if Galen agreed to it?

Would you like to know the answers to the above questions? Read part two of this story. In the meantime, here is a lovely video of Victor Borge and  violinist Anton Kontra performing their rendition of Czardas:

As for the photo above, unfortunately, I can't find out who took it. I found it on a careers website.

A World of Hope and a World of Fears

Perhaps people talk about the 'good old days' mainly because they were the days when they were young and strong and the world seemed full of things to explore rather than things to fear. I am sure that when I was young my parent's generation pitied mine for our short attention spans and far too easy time of it, just as my generation pities our children's. I don't think I could be accused of romanticizing my childhood, but I do realize, looking back, I spent a great deal of time out of doors with friends and family, a great deal of time reading and being engaged in creative activity, a fair amount watching television or studying. My husband and I have tried to model our children's upbringing on the good parts of our own, but I admit it has not been easy to maintain a balance of enough work, rest, play, fresh air, study, scheduled activity, time to just 'be' and sit-down family dinners in these times of a million little distractions. We managed to keep video games out of our house until fairly recently, and I believe that to have been for the best for our family, but the digital world is a world of wonder, and a bit of a rabbit hole at times.

At my son's high school graduation last weekend, my friend Ron, a school board trustee and technology enthusiast, made a speech to the group of young men and women decked out in ball gowns and tuxedos. He talked about how in the past ten years technology has changed the world to such an extent that it has made the former ways of communication, research, and recreation almost unrecognizable to the present generation. Their knowledge base has expanded exponentially and the results are both a blessing and a challenge. As he spoke, I began to think about the future of this group of graduates.We, their parent's generation grew up with the idea of a large world with parts still relatively unreachable by the touch of modern man. Now, it truly is 'a small world after all,' thanks to global communication networks and multi-national corporations. The sentiment 'there's so much that we share, that it's time we're aware' has come true in a big way, but perhaps not exactly as the Disney theme song writer had in mind.

The school principal echoed my friend's thoughts in her own speech, expanding on them further to point out the present generation had lived a very different childhood, overall, than that of their parents. Their lives were packed with extra-curricular lessons and play-dates.  They had been delivered to the school door and chauffeured to the after school activity.  They would find it a challenge to branch out on their own without the preparation through exploratory experiences enjoyed by their parents, grandparents and great-grandparents who spent entire days away from home at the age of ten, were told to return for supper, only to head outdoors again for a game of hide-and-seek with the entire neighbourhood (honestly though, sometimes we could have used a little more supervision).  This generation would have to navigate their way through largely uncharted territory.  Of course, the speeches ended on a positive 'you have the power to change the world' note, but I left the graduation ceremonies just a little low in spirits. I knew these kids had a lot of growing up to do, and hoped the world would be patient with them.

I wondered if our generation had missed the boat in preparing our children for life in this new world. In filling their days with supervised acitivity, had we robbed them of the opportunity to learn to chart their own course? Had we taught them to fear a life without material riches, rather than to hope for true fulfillment? I think it must be confusing for many kids today.  Everyone expects them, upon graduation, to know what their next step will be, but they are not always given the freedom to question and explore all the possibilities.  One grad's father admitted to steering his son toward a career with a pension and security, but have we not learned from the present economic climate that there is no such thing as financial security?  Post-secondary education is more expensive than ever, and when young people do finish university or certification they expect to land high-paying jobs to keep up the expensive, tech-dependent lifestyle they are used to thanks to accomodating parents.

I remember last year my eldest asked if he could go for a walk at 9 pm.  I looked at him and said, "You are seventeen years old.  Of course you can go for a walk." It was not easy to feign such nonchalance, because I was busy wondering what made him feel he had to ask. We live in a small farming community with a population of less than six thousand where 'the wrong side of the tracks' means you have missed your turn and are on your way out of town. Ever since, my son has revelled in these solitary rambles and just this morning, a friend said he'd been teasing him because he has seen him walking on top of the railway cars.  After he observed my face losing its colour, he hastened to add that they were stationary rail cars, without their containers. This loosening of the apron strings has been a gradual process but as necessary for me as it has been for my son.  In allowing our boys to walk home after the evening shift at work since they were fourteen, and gradually letting our eldest find his own way to Vancouver to attend concerts with friends, I have weaned myself off of that hands-on parenting style which came through parenting this generation.  I need to know that when my son goes to Europe this summer, he will have the much needed trust in his own instincts, the tools to figure out what to do when challenges arise, as well as the faith not to panic if things go awry. He is going with a group, but they will have independence in some situations and I hope he will gain everything he can from the adventure.

The other day my nine year old daughter said to me, "Mom, when are you going to let me go places by myself?"  I do let her go to the store or to the neighbourhood parks with friends, but alone? No, not yet. I know I am protective, but when she asked me my mind went through a complete revolution from imagining the bad things that could happen to her, to the realization that I will have to begin to let her go, too. But it doesn't get any easier, especially with girls. Maybe I'll just stop watching the news.

The photo is of our graduate looking out to sea from Mystic Beach on Vancouver Island.

The Digital Nativity

A dear friend sent this little video to me last week.  I loved it, my teenagers thought it was great and the eldest even posted it on his Facebook page, so that proves its worth as a thoroughly modern retelling of the age old Christmas Story!  We are baking gingerbread today, for fun, and enjoying this point in the holidays when most of the work is done and all we have to do now is sit back and open our arms to Christmas.

A very Merry Christmas to all.  Peace on Earth!

I hope you enjoyed the video! 

Cheers,

Rebecca



Technology Bites

My daughter Emma's grade 8 French class was given an assignment last week, which required, and therefore assumed their being in possession of, a video recorder. The students had three days to complete a short video with a clear picture and good audio. Each student was paired with another, perhaps with the idea that at least one of them would have access to said piece of digital equipment, as well as a computer for downloading the video and some means of storing and transporting it such as a flashdrive, a CD Rom, etc. Fortunately, Emma saved up her own money last year and bought herself a good quality digital camera with video capability. She and her partner worked hard on the video, taken mainly at the stables where they spend a good part of their time, downloaded it last Sunday evening onto our last remaining CD Rom (after it proved too big a file to be emailed from our aged computer to the teacher's - another option) and handed it in on time on Monday morning. The girls didn't need my help, except for some feedback on the final video, so for much of this process, I sat back and wondered. My daughter was fortunate enough to have all the necessary tools at her disposal (and a dad willing to help her find a way to store and transport the video), but was it right for the teacher to assume this?

In our society, most people seem to be on a high powered conveyor belt, content to be carried along by technology's rapid progress, accepting that the constant upgrading is a matter of course. I fully admit that I am a reluctant passenger on this conveyor belt. I own a computer, of course, but it is, as the sweet kid at Future Shop told me recently, practically from the Middle Ages. We bought it in 2004, and have added memory, updated graphics cards, and an external hard drive. Until my local pharmacy stopped developing film and it started costing twenty dollars a roll to develop in the nearest city I was fairly content to keep on using my old fashioned Pentax camera. Mind you, when I would take a photo of the little boys I used to look after they would always ask, "Can I see it?" thinking there would be a screen on the back of my camera just like their parents'. I held out on buying a CD player until the movies I wanted to see were no longer being released on VHS. My husband and I have toyed with the idea of buying a video camera, so we can record our children's musical performances, but every time we get close to the carrying out of this plan, we back out of it and spend the money on something else we need more. I don't have a cell phone of my own, but my husband is issued one through his work. I have thought of aquiring one for myself for work, but I just can't seem to feel the need for one urgently enough. I don't own an ipod because I don't like to run with music, and those earbuds bother my ears after a while anyway. I see the benefit of recording my favourite shows on an HDTV with TVO, but while I can still use my old VCR for taping shows I just can't miss watching on my Sony Trinitron tube tv I don't see why I should rush into buying this 'must have' set-up. I suppose I'm like the old farmer who, when asked by the travelling salesman if he would like to try the gas-powered tractor as an improvement on his horse-drawn plow, moves the stem of wheat to the side of his mouth and responds, "Now why would I want to do that?"

Perhaps my reluctance to buy into all this technology for myself is part of an innate deeply held belief that it is unnecessary: I just don't want to spend the money when it could be used for other things like books, coffee and scones at the cafe, running shoes, or a family holiday. My children, on the other hand take technology for granted, as if they had been born plugged in. They all have ipods of some kind, my girls each have a digital camera, and my second son recently bought a Wii gaming system, the first of its kind that his dad and I have allowed into the house. We were really strict on that point. We always believed that the computer and the television provided enough screen time, and the week when, several years ago the son in question was loaned a Gameboy by a friend, cemented our determination all the more. He has always been a goal-driven child and so could not leave the thing alone until all the games he was loaned had been conquered. Every free minute was spent in frenzied button pushing until he beat the last level. It drove me crazy. We live in a mild climate and I wanted my children to take advantage of that by spending plenty of time out of doors. I also told my second son when he would beg me to let him have a game system that I wanted him to develop all the real world interests he had outside of video games first, and when those were well established (he plays the violin beautifully, likes to run, to draw and paint, to read and play board games) then he would be able to keep the video game thing in perspective. So far, so good, but even at fifteen he lacks awareness of how much time has passed during a session of adventures in Zelda's world.

So here I am, at the computer, walking the tightrope between two worlds. Embracing technology one minute and disdaining it the next. I love having a blog. I thoroughly enjoy connecting with bloggers from different parts of the world, with friends and family on Facebook and by email, and I really like the immediacy of my daughter's digital camera, something I will buy for myself before long. I also like how my children can watch great music videos on YouTube and that my husband can keep up with his favourite soccer teams in the English Premier League. On the other hand, I am annoyed by the guy in the suit with the Bluetooth on his ear, talking business at full volume while he shops. I regret that I have not the time to read all the blogs I am interested in keeping up with and feel guilty when I either spend too much or too little time trying to do so. I understand that when it comes time to buy a new computer I will marvel in its features, its speed and its megamemory, but part of me will still look at it like it is just another elaborate toy in the grand scheme of things. I grew up in an age when the computer was just beginning to be useful to the average person. It was my far seeing mother who convinced me to take typing and a course called 'data processing', both which have proved incredibly useful.

The high school that my children attend just purchased brand new Windows 7 computers for their computer lab. My daughter thought this incredibly wasteful, especially when they are having to lay off teachers. "The computers we had were only two years old. They were just fine!" she said. Perhaps I'm rubbing off on her. I can't help wondering if, in a few years time, the school supply lists will include, beyond the required scentific calculator for Math, a digital camera, a laptop, and a GPS. One can only hope, if that happens, these pieces of technological equipment will have dropped in price like the calculator. When I was in school, electronic scientific calculators were ten times the price they are now. If I hold out long enough, maybe someday I'll be able to buy a camera for fifty bucks and a new computer for a hundred. I might be willing to wait that long, but I don't think my family will.

The image is from The Cupcake Tent