What's Wrong With Kids These Days?

One of the great things about being a parent, is getting a phone call in the middle of the afternoon and your son is on the other end saying "you'll never guess where I'm calling from!"

He's fourteen now, so he's right, it's difficult to guess these things. I'm afraid to even try.

I have good reason too. When I was fourteen, I really never checked in with my parents. We lived in a pretty easy-going part of the bush in Northern Ontario, where the kids were all pretty independent. I spent most of the summer months out on my bike, or hiking the trails behind our house, or hanging around the beaver dam near our place, or flying down Barsky's Hill on a home-built go-kart. The winter months were spent outside building snow forts, skating on the beaver pond, throwing snowballs or just plotting another snow attack on a different part of town.

My parents were always glad to see me at the supper table, and rarely interested in what took place from the time they saw me go out the door in the morning, until I came back just in time to eat.

It's something that seems to out of step with the way things are now. We spend so much time and energy in an effort trying to control our children's environments. Perhaps we're making up for a perceived slackness in our own upbringing, or maybe we've become paranoid of the world thanks to how it's presented to us on the media ever day.

Let the kids out of your sight for one second, and they'll be doing something dangerous, going to some awful part of town, blowing their money on scary addictions, or hanging around psychotic freaks! It must be true because Brian Williams, Peter Mansbridge and the entire CNN crew tell me it's so.

So with great trepidation I answer "uhh, I can't guess...where are you?" And my son proudly announces that he and his buds are on Wolfe Island. Wolfe Island? A place where most people take their families and grandparents to see the pastoral beauty of a farming community that's only accessible by a ferry. A place where the craziest thing you can do on a hot summers day is buy a decadent butter tart at the Wolfe Island Bakery.

This is the same kid who asked me a few days prior to this adventure "hey, guess what I just bought!" To which I had to answer "uhh, I can't guess...whadja get?" "A violin!" He had a hundred bucks just burning a hole in his pockets, so he bought a...a...VIOLIN?!??!!?

If we start giving this kid too much freedom, he may end up sneaking away to the library!

You see, it's not our children who we're tyring to protect. At least not entirely. We're doing everything we can to keep them from doing the bad stuff we did.

No wonder they're confident that they'll do a better job when it's their turn to take over the world.

Just Glad To Be Here

It came to me when I was at the fort for the 1812 Overture the other night...this stuff only happens in Kingston.

Every year the Kingston Symphony Orchestra performs a two-night show at Unesco World Historic site Fort Henry. The fact that we have a symphony orchestra is significant enough, but that we have one of the finest in Canada, makes it even better.

Anyway, the symphony always invites a special guest artist to perform with them on these nights. This time it was Kingston blues-legend Georgette Fry and her band. Awesome show! They played some classics (including "Mars: bringer of War" by Holzt, which was a personal favourite of Captain Matthew Dawe of Kingston. He had been killed just a few weeks ago while serving in Afghanistan), some blues, and of course the big finale: Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture, complete with live cannon and muskets supplied by the Fort Henry Guard.

1500 people were at the fort that night for this amazing show. They weren't all classical music, or blues music, or jazz music, or any-particular-type-of-music fans. Just people who love to see a great show.

That's when I started thinking about it. We drive, ride and walk past some of the most beautiful and historic architecture in the country. Have you ever driven up Fort Henry Hill some night, just to look out over Kingston? You'd cancel your satellite service and never watch TV again if you did. It's just awesome.

We can literally go to the bar that Sir John A. MacDonald frequented.

Our City Hall was built a half-century before surveyors even laid out plans to build Edmonton!

Living in Kingston is a privilege that all of us take for granted. The parking rates we whine about are among the lowest in the country. The "horrible condition of our roads" would look like new pavement in most places.

And most of us miss it. Speeding to work. Speeding home. Rushing the kids through supper so you can get them to soccer on time. Stopping for a quick (and not inexpensive) bite at some national chain restaurant afterward, then speeding back home.

Whenever you hear yourself complaining about there being nothing do do or see here. Stop. Take a second to think about the horrible alternative: Living anywhere else!

Proof that Darwin may have been wrong

Not very much makes me mad.

In fact, it's hard to think of anything that gets more out of me than a "what's with that."

But three seemingly unrelated incidents from the past two days are really getting to me.

In Toronto, a young boy at a birthday party was shot and killed by a "stray" bullet. It seems someone had a beef with someone else, so they fired wildly in an attempt to make things right. And a boy died.

Yesterday a man was attacked by a pit bull. The dog was loose, and for reasons we'll never know, bit the man rather severely on the leg. The pit bull is going to be put down.

Sunday, my wife was driving to work on the 401. She was passing another car when a vehicle came out of nowhere...almost rear ended the car she was passing, then somehow drove through the very small gap between the two of them to get in front of my wife. She said that she had to close her eyes for a moment, and was certain that she was about to die.

The gang guy who shot off his gun is a moron.

The pit bull's owners, who probably encouraged every aggressive tendency in the poor animal, then allowed it to run free (and frightened), are morons.

The guy driving the speeding car, oblivious to the carnage, and heartbreak he could have caused, is a moron.

Morons kill.

What have I done now?

I was so happy to have friends competing in the Ironman USA this past weekend, that I may have lost my mind!

You see, to get into this day-long torturefest, one has to either qualify with an incredible time in some lead-up competition (not bloody likely for me), or just be really really lucky and sign up online the day after the competition before all the slots are gone.

Or, you could have friends going to the race who threaten to do it for you.

I'll find out tomorrow if one of them signed me up for Ironman 2008.

Not sure if I'm supposed to hope it's "yes" or "no."

4km swim...180km bike ride...42.2km marathon...all in the same day!

Maybe they were just kidding!

Older, but no wiser!

A bunch of people I know are racing in Ironman USA this Sunday in Lake Placid. These are dedicated (some would say obsessed) individuals who've put in at least a year of training so that they can have the privilege of swimming 3.8km, riding their bikes 180km and running a marathon...all in the same day!

Yikes!

The folks who do this kind of stuff are pretty special. A lot of them are life-long athletes who regard Ironman as just another extreme challenge to tackle. The majority though, came to this whole notion of fitness later in their lives. Take a look at the results from any Ironman, or even the K-Town Tri...the 40-60 year olds are the ones who drive this thing.

New stats out show that our population is not only ageing, it's doing it in ways your grandparents never imagined. People are getting fitter as they age, and they're taking up sports that used to be for young people.

I've had the humbling experience of having a 76-year-old man blast by me on the bike in a triathlon. Couldn't even catch him on the run! I hope I get to be him some day...I really do.

The world has done a weird flip in the past decade. Young people are becoming more and more sedentary, and are getting "old people" diseases like arthritis and type two diabetes at an alarming rate. Meanwhile, the codgers are running, swimming, biking, hiking, rock climbing and doing all kinds of other crazy endurance sports at an equally alarming rate.

There was a time in my life when I used to sit on the sidelines and watch in wonder as athletes took things to yet another level. I can still remember thinking "what a bunch of wackos" while watching the first K-Town tri.

Now?

Guess I'm just following a trend...as of this weekend, I'll be signed up for IM USA 2008. I'm not getting older...just trying to keep up!

Depends on how you want to be soaked!

Holy crap it's raining here in Kingston today! We don't usually get crazy weather of any kind here, so what we refer to as "a lot of rain" is probably pretty pathetic to some people.

But holy crap!

It wouldn't matter as much if I still drove my car everywhere. You see about eight years ago I decided to do something about the "high" gas prices (at the time about 55 cents per litre) and started to ride my bike to work and back at least three or four times a week.

I'm putting about 5000 kms. a year on my bike(s) now. I stay in pretty good physical condition, and my kids even have a healthier attitude about using "people power" to get to where they need to go.

Back when I started my two-wheeled commute, I was full of reasons why I couldn't do it. The distance! The traffic! No bike lanes! No cool cycling gear! Blah blah blah. First morning I rode in, I was hooked!

Sure you have to buy some cool cycling clothes to feel like you're part of the bike crowd (though the mullet-guys with the backwards ball caps-and-cigarette look have a special panache), and I go through a set of tires every year or so. Yes the traffic is pretty nuts. Oh, and the guy who knocked me off the road a while back lifted my family's anxiety level a bit.

The payoff though has been exactly what I'd hoped for. For the five to ten minutes of extra time it takes me to ride in, I save about 500 bucks a year in gas another couple hundred in parking and a few hundred in car maintenance. Every time I see the gas go over a buck a litre, I get this special, warm screw-the-oil companies feeling.

December gets a bit rough. January and February are killers to ride in, and this time around I'll probably have to take the bus. But stopping by Elevator Bay on the way in to spend a few minutes watching the ducks and geese...or riding the long way through Lemoine Point coming home...and passing 50 cars stuck in traffic at 4:10pm...those are things I'd never get to do with my stupid old car.

Today though. Holy crap it's raining today! It was a dry ride in. And as for going home? I'm gonna get soaked! But tonight, I'll sleep like a baby...wonder if the people who set the prices we pay at the pump will do the same?

The Loud People's Pool

My backyard neighbour got a pool! I'm jealous. In ground with a massive deck and a hot tub. All that fun to be had...less grass to cut. Totally jealous.

His family gets a lot of good use out of it all too. And that's where there's a problem.

Our little corner of the city is awesome. Lots of kids, teenagers, young couples, old couples...a really good mix of people. Sometimes the kids may get a bit careless on their bikes, some times the oldsters may drive a bit too fast. But for the most part, it works.

Until someone gets a backyard pool!

It's not the splashing. It's not the happy laughter. It's not even the fact that the most noise happens when I'm trying to sleep (my hours are weird to most people, and therefore I'm the one who needs to deal with it, not them).

No, it's the child who screams as though she's about to be murdered, all day! This is not an infant, nor is it a toddler. Just someone who's main form of communicating her joy at having full access to her own backyard pool, is to scream like she's just seen the trailer for The Hills Have Eyes II.

The scream penetrates walls. The TV and stereo won't drown it out. Instead of my hour-and-a-half of shut-eye every afternoon, it's now a crazy mishmash of nappus interuptus, punctuated by dreams that only Wes Craven could have come up with.

In days gone by, I'd carefully plot my revenge. Not some well thought-out scheme, where my point is put across with such perfect clarity that the situation is fixed, and we all learn a valuable life lesson too. No, something meaningless and childish.

But the urge isn't in me now. It's almost as if I'm willing to let them have their fun, no matter how obnoxious it can get.

Guess I'm gettin' old.

I've lost my jock!

The Jock's coming down!

So that's it...no more Jock Harty Arena. No more Styx, Crowded House, Elvis Costello. No more sweating it out though an exam. No more running on the track while watching the pick up hockey or figure skaters practice their moves. No more climbing up over the fences late at night to get onto the old tennis courts (not that anyone would do such a thing).

Things change, and in our city, we need to welcome ANY new ideas that actually make it past the talking stage. But the Jock just never seemed like it was one of those obsolete relics that needed replacing.

Well, it'll be gone soon. The wrecking has begun. In a few years the new Queen's Centre will stand where the old rink, pool and gym are now. Pretty exciting.

And yet.

A bit of a bummer for anyone who never climbed up over the fence late at night to get on the old tennis courts.

Don't drive Stupid!

A very good friend of mine did something she hopes she'll never have to do again.

This weekend she found herself behind a driver who was having a very tough time keeping their vehicle on the road. It became apparent that this was someone in need of an intervention, so my friend called 911 and reported what she saw.

Not sure what transpired after that, but person on the other end assured her that they would take action.

Now this morning I know why they conveyed that message over the phone. Kingston Police charged five people for drinking and driving offences in this city in less than twelve hours this past weekend. Scary enough that people still let themselves go to a point where they get behind the wheel like that, but that so many are still doing it after all that's been done to stop this moronic behaviour...it's just really really sad.

No need asking why somebody would be so mindless as to try to drive after they've been drinking. We have to stop making excuses for them. Stop listening to their excuses. Just plain stop them.

My friend definitely did the right thing. And you should do the same if you ever get the chance.

The Blog Entry About Bicycle Lanes

An interesting thing happened this morning. A representative of "Bicycle Kingston" was heard on FLY FM (and I presume other, lesser media outlets) explaining his group's stand on the city's plan to create more bike lanes here.

He's against it. In fact he and his group say the idea of building bike lanes is actually more dangerous than what we have now. They say the city could instead build wider curb lanes, that could be used by both cars and bikes. He says this would save us money to use on law enforcement and improving the general state of our roads. His main rationale is that bicycles are vehicles, which are entitled to the roadway as much as a motorized vehicle is...and that if both were to share the new wider roadway by following the basic rules of the road...all will be well. This is not some guy who comes by these theories easily either. He's had lots of experience in other cities (like Toronto), and he's passionate that he knows the right way to go on this.

March 25th, 2001. I was riding my beautiful white Cannondale road bike along Front Road here in Kingston. This is a stretch of street that has a well-marked bike lane most of the way. There is one small bridge over the Cataraqui Creek that has no bike lane marked on it though. That is where I was knocked off the road by a vehicle, driven by someone who perhaps could have been following the "basic rules of the road"...but wasn't. Smashed up my bike. Got a massive concussion, and missed a couple days of work.

Would a white line painted on the side of the road have saved me from all this? I can't answer that. The driver may have caught that in his peripheral vision (so hard to see though when you're busy trying to dial an important number on your cell), but then he probably should have seen the bright white Cannondale, complete with colourfully-dressed rider with a huge yellow and reflective silver back pack!!!

My point though is that the more we do to make it clear to drivers that a bicycle (or skateboard, or child) COULD be up ahead...the safer for everyone. What better way than to paint a brilliant white line along the side of the road? Sure there are morons who don't even see huge CARS in front of them when they drive. There is no hope for these people, other than that they'll die in firey crashes some day and make the roads safer for the rest of us.

Okay, that's a bit harsh, but maybe I'm feeling just a bit sensitive after having a group speak out for me and the rest of the people of Kingston who love to bike. Most of us are very very happy with our crappy little white lines and want nothing more than for the city of Kingston to paint them on every street. Driver education, law enforcement and road repairs...yeah, we need those too.

But I'll bet my life on that solid white line.

The Blog Entry About the Black Truck

I hate the black truck. It's not a good quality, hating something that really could never hate me back. So big deal. Nobody's perfect.

Here I am doing my bit for the planet, our family's budget and my general fitness, by riding my beat up old Minnelli mountain bike 7.4 kms to work every day. Some times it feels great, like when it's 30 celcius at 4:30am, and the road is all mine. There are rides that aren't as much fun though. Those are the ones where it's really freakin' cold, and/or windy, and/or raining and I'm late, and I'm so so tired because it's 4:30am and I don't really care how much of the road I can have, how small my carbon footprint is or how badly my kids would like to have a college eduction...I just want to drive the 7.4 kms in the luxury of an automobile complete with the soothing sounds of FLY FM, dry-non spandex-clothing, and enough metal to protect my general health from the black friggin' truck!

My bike has every safety feature demanded by the traffic act. I don't run red lights or stop signs. I stay as far to the right of the road as possible (except when avoiding the many counter-sunk sewer grates in Kingston. Not sure why these have to be six inches below street level, but it could have something to do with a concession to the auto mechanics who can only make their margins by replacing shocks and struts). I signal. What a complete nerd! I signal when I turn, when I stop, and even when I wish to communicate my observations about someone's driving.

I get so wound up about people who drive on the road like they have been given a permanent right-of-way pass.

The black truck. It goes really really fast. The turn signals apparently are broken. The brakes fail at all intersections. However I will admit that it does slow down a bit for red lights, almost to the point where there were several inches between me and it this morning when I was cut off riding through my green light at Bath and Days Road.

But this is not why I hate the black truck.

I hate the black truck because of the driver. He/she may totally disregard the traffic laws, care little for the future of our world, and probably feels no need to share the road with some skinny, sweaty man on a bike. But he/she gets to do it all in such luxury. Dry clothes. The soothing sounds of FLY FM.

My god, I think I'm getting Truck-Envy!

Keep it movin'