minor irony

first of all, i don't know how to smoke. not that i haven't, or that i'm not. a smoker, that is. which i'm not.

i don't know how to physically hold the cigarette, or what the proper technique is to inhale it into my lungs. i don't know how to get the burning end off of it when its about to fall off, or how to stop it for later use. i barely know how to use a lighter.

i've seen how its supposed to be done, of course. i've seen the pros driving down wascana parkway with a nub of a cigarette balanced between their middle and pointer finger while the other three fingers rest on the steering wheel. the blue lines of second-hand smoke drift fashionably out of the crack in the driver's-side window.

i once saw a lady doing precisely this while her child watched a movie in a car seat behind her. she slowed down in the school zone, presumably because she didn't want to risk killing any children.

stranger things have happened.

27/05/12

there is so much i've been meaning to tell you.

i've wanted to say it so long, but it has to stay a secret, because it isn't my place to talk about it.

i've dreamt about it. i used to obsess over news articles. and then not long ago, someone who knew the real facts gave me a small window of truth and i pushed too far in curiosity. i asked too much.

i once met a family, in passing, because they lived with my friend in his parent's house. they had all lived together for just over a year. a young, handsome father, (he would soon be an engineering graduate), a beautiful, kind wife, and their baby, who i really barely remember at all, but know from many photos that he was very sweet. he was just learning to crawl, then, so they had baby gates up everywhere. my friend introduced us as the dad cut up vegetables for supper at the counter and the mom chased after the crawling, laughing baby. it was so brief.

roughly two years after this, not long after the family had left from a visit back home, the dad shot his wife and child on the side of the road, and then proceeded to kill himself.

they said he was depressed.

my question, the one i asked when i shouldn't have, was to my friend, their friend, when we were in a bar one night. we were on the topic, and my friend had brought it up. i asked, "is her family mad at him?"

my friend started crying, and i'd never seen him cry. he just said, "how could they be?"

i know a lot of people that could give a lot of reasons as to why her family could be mad. people who say they should be mad, even if clarity were present in times of tragedy. people who say he didn't love them, that he was fucked, that he deserved to die.

and i think they are so wrong. he was sick. the man who shot his wife and child on the side of the road that afternoon was not the man that i met that day, so briefly. but why can't people believe that?

people always compare this to the man who cut that kid's head off on the greyhound bus. a popular incident of disgust with the justice system, all because the man who did it is now free. he didn't take his medication properly that day. but the truth is, that man wasn't himself either. he was sick. he may still be sick. i'm not saying he should be free. but i am saying that he was not himself.

mental illness is something that everyone thinks would never happen to them. we're all too damn normal for that to happen. we could never, ever, turn a gun on the people we love. but this makes me furious. we all could. we are all suceptible to illness. there was nothing wrong with that man who killed his wife and child. he was a good man. and he became a different man when he became ill. i can't pretend like i have even the slightest understanding of what happened that afternoon. but i know, and i know this so desperately, that he was not the man he had been every day leading up to his illness. there is this thing that can take hold of people, and we shouldn't let it erase every good moment we had before. even though i didn't know them, i wish that someone could have helped him sooner. and i hope to god that my friend was being honest when he answered that invasive, horrible question that i asked.

but ask yourself this: if tomorrow your father, or mother, or husband, or brother, or someone else you have loved and cared for unconditionally did something so terrible as this-- would that mean that person was evil? that they had never loved you?

i genuinely hope you know that wouldn't be true.




may the memory of that family be of every moment of goodness they had.

[muh-lig-nuhnt]

"think of it like this: i'm on a plane, and there is some turbulence. as long as the pilot isn't running down the isle screaming, 'we're all going to die!' i'm going to be fine. as long as everyone else is fine, i am fine. this is all just turbulence. this is all going to be just fine."

old 19 road

groceries:

milk (because its always the first item that prompts the list)
butter
bread
eggs (i'm sounding wholesome)
plain yogurt
nectarines
apples
tomatoes
onion
something you can turn into lunch tomorrow, hopefully you'll know when you see it
a garage
time
chicken
ricotta
spinach
a kitchen island, with stools
a camera
a new car
sunscreen

i looked for tornadoes in the sky today, thinking about joplin and the phrase "eye of the storm." like all this heat and stillness was just the sky faking, or waiting. the storm chasers in medicine hat are coming for the weather and forgetting all about people's windshields and houses and downtown traffic that never goes away.

she said, "i just have to believe there is something else out there, because if there weren't, this would all just be too random."

i said, "i am not taking the elevator to the tenth floor during a tornado."

track five

i've determined that it takes me five songs to drive everywhere close to me, or, alternatively, twenty-three for when i make silly driving errors or visit somewhere i've never been before with hand-written google map directions on a sticky note. i always seem to stop and then restart the next time on that same song.

this is not taking into consideration that i almost always skip track three and sometimes repeat eight and eighteen an undetermined number of times, depending on the day, or depending on if someone passes me and i consequently miss singing my favorite part out loud.

this is the family i've been waiting for

The No Trash Family

By Sharon Cotliar, Susan Young

January 16, 2012

Vol. 77

No. 2
http://www.people.com/people/archive/article/0,,20559312,00.html

When Bea Johnson decided her family should stop having any trash to throw out, her husband, Scott, says, "I thought she had lost her mind." No trash? Just about. Since 2006 the Mill Valley, Calif., couple and their sons have cut down their garbage output so that they now produce only enough in a year to fill a 1-liter mason jar. (The average American leaves behind 1,051 lbs. annually.) Everything else? They reuse, recycle or compost.

Gone are Styrofoam trays and plastic wrap-Bea brings glass jars to the butcher, fish and deli counters to fill with meat, fish and cheese. Cereal or cookie boxes with plastic liners? Banned; she makes her own or buys from bulk bins. Rags replace paper towels, washable pads for cotton balls and toilet paper-well, they still buy toilet paper but recycle the tubes, along with any other cardboard that finds its way home.

Why live this way? "We set out to simplify our lives, and it turned into something good for the environment," says Bea, 37, an artist (pesky unrecyclable butter wrappers are one medium) who also runs a decluttering business and writes a blog, thezerowastehome.com, on which she documents her low-impact life.

The boys, Max, 11, and Leo, 10, barely notice their life is unusual. They've grown up carrying lunches in knotted towels and playing with recycled toys. (Plastic toys they outgrow are donated.) "I don't want my children to feel deprived," Bea says. For gifts, they often get experiences like sports outings. But, says Max, sometimes "I'll bring home things that can't be recycled," like the wrapper from his 3-D movie glasses. Scott, 48, despite being an eco-business consultant, admits he became enthusiastic about their lifestyle only after he noticed they were saving money-Bea shops resale stores for clothes, and he estimates they've cut 25 percent of their food costs, more than offsetting the premium they pay for green and specialty items. Recently Scott was the one approaching the deli counter with glass jars. When he did, the clerk asked, " 'Hey, do you know the jar lady?' " he recalls. Scott told him, "I'm married to the jar lady."

AT THE STORE

At the super-market, Bea (right) brings sacks for baguettes and food bought from bins, and glass jars for meat. At home the kitchen cabinets are stocked with nuts, dried fruits, peanut butter and pasta. "As long as they have the cereal, fruit and cookies they like, they're happy," says Bea. Adds son Leo: "Most of my favorites aren't in plastic."

NO-WASTE KIDS

Leo, 10 (with Zizou), snacks from a cloth sack of nuts. Even at school he shuns waste. "It isn't hard to say no to chips. They are gone in three seconds, then the bag is in the trash." His and Max's artwork decorates the stairs.

IN THE YARD

Now an expert at composting, Scott relies on worms to turn trash into fertilizer for his garden.

IN THE BATH

They use bamboo toothbrushes and homemade baking soda toothpaste. Bea also makes her own eyeliner, but Scott can't lose his plastic contact lens case.

WHAT YOU CAN DO

• Refuse plastic bags. Bring jars and reusable totes to the store.

• Buy secondhand; if you buy new, choose glass and metal, not plastic.

• Swap disposables for reusables (refillable bottles, cloth napkins, rags).

• Fight junk mail. Get off lists at dmachoice.org or catalogchoice.org.

• Turn down freebies; taking them creates more demand. Says Bea: "Do you really need another pen?"

• Download music and videos online instead of buying CDs and DVDs.

WHAT THEY THREW OUT

Items that can't be recycled go in a jar under the sink. Packaging from infrequent large purchases (like their computer) gets left behind at the store. "Zero waste is idealistic," says Bea. "We refuse packaging material as a statement that might lead to more recyclable materials."

Paint rollers

Plastic tie from a pair of shoes

Plastic hanger straps from a dress

Plastic cork covers from wine bottles

Plastic casing from an electrical cord

Candy wrapper

Photos

Clothes tags

Old plastic toothbrush

Masking tape

Packaging of home repair/electrical items

A fruit sticker

this is where wascana turns to broad