My uncle said something once that I will always remember: “Life’s tedious and generally boring, Stuart. That’s just the way it is.” I immediately rejected what he said (I was 18 at the time), although the quote has often popped into my mind since. It’s hard to be really happy. That is, if “Happy” is defined by what you’ve got, or where you’re going, what flavour is in your mouth or what’s teasing the other senses. And so much of the other happiness seems dependent on these. My kids are less likely to smile and warm my heart while living on the street — but I suppose it’s possible. I’ve…

Suzy is in the next room with her sister JD and best friend Linda. They’re watching the Oscars. I have to admit that I enjoyed Chris Rock‘s opening monologue, but I left during Beyonce‘s French solo; it sounded more like an Italian deli menu being sung. So instead of watching, I’m listening to the viewer banter. “Ooh, Tim Robbins… He’s so cute.” “Look at the bow tie. What’s that, a peace sign?” I spent a very frustrating 5 hours yesterday rearranging the home office to make it more efficient – less cluttered. I get so tense when I do this, probably because we have all this “stuff” that keeps me…

Warrior Barb recommends a special pillow for whiplash. Designed by NASA. Price: $190. My dentist talked me into buying a polymer dental device to stop me from grinding my teeth into little stumps. Price: $350. Dr. Weiss performs 40 vascectomies a week in his basement off Echo Drive in the shi-shi-la-laa Glebe. It was covered by OHIP, but the special “kit” including razor, jock strap and prescription for a single Valium pill was $60. This morning I mistook Puddy for a shirt at the foot of my bed. Lasik eye surgery: $3500. Aging is expensive. I’m saving now for my walker. Maybe the kids will kick in for that, or…

My yoga instructor has been a physiotherapist and yoga guru for 25 years. After class last night she also became my new hero. “I have two words for you: Whip lash.” (It’s actually just one word, and don’t look it up on Google at work unless you want to download lots of links to bondage sites.) I’ve had chronic pain between my shoulder blades for as long as I can remember — a burning tightness that gets so bad sometimes it feels like a hot metal pipe pierces my back and comes out just right of my heart. For the past 15 years or so I’ve thought this feeling was…

I took Friday off. I enjoyed it more than the entire Christmas season. I’ll have to think about this some more, and maybe give up on the “countdown to Christmas” calendar that (as my friends know) starts in April. I had a long bath, did some yoga, drank a nice bottle of Merlot. Jasper painted a beautiful picture — a sparse yellow circle with a single orange dot and line below. When he handed it to me he said, “It’s the Buddha, Dad.” Now I’m back at the office, feeling fine. I don’t want to lose perspective, but it’s so easy to get caught up in work. So, for those…

Thanks for the link, Juergen. I hope it doesn’t happen to me.

Finally, a way to add meaning to e-mail.

Walking to the bus stop in a light flurry, it felt like Christmas Eve but I was glad it is not. Feeling cheery on the bus, laughing aloud reading David Sedaris, the woman next to me smiled like she wanted in on the joke. But this was the bus. Waiting in line for my large with two milks, I noticed that the feature blend was described as “nutty with a hint of brightness.” That made me happy. I asked the coffee pourer (they’re called “associates” now) if he knew who writes the description. “Some copy writer, I guess.” He needs to get out in the snow.

I ride to work with my neighbour Barb. We call her Warrior because she fires up the Subaru and drives it to O Fortuna full blast, charging ahead to Tim’s and work at City Hall — traffic and cyclists beware! I love it. This winter we agreed that certain things should be banned: Those long women’s coats with fake fur hoods, tinted in colours that don’t exist in nature; chatty parking attendants; sock toques. I’d add bureaucrats, but she’s one. The waste, the waste. I’ve spent the past few weeks smiling in meetings, struggling to hold my composure with clients who are desperate to spend left-over budgets before fiscal year-end…

It was nearly 1:30 a.m. by the time we collapsed in bed, hearts pounding, sweaty. Neither one of us thought we’d be able to sleep. The carpet burns and throbbing scratch marks were almost too much to bear. Then the moaning started again, and I knew it had been a mistake to get a cat for Jasper and Simon on Valentines Day. Our first mistake was probably renaming the cat. It was 6 years old, after all, and had gotten used to “Button.” We just weren’t a “Button” family. But the cat had arrived suddenly after a friend called saying that her 10-month-old son was hospitalized with a respiratory infection.…

My little brother turns 31 tomorrow. Happy Birthday Lowell! For those of you who have not seen his video debut, check out Sunglasses at Night, and then see a pic of his new baby boy – Ryan Thomas (who is 4 months old this week, I think). Lowell survived as the youngest sibling in our house, despite being run over by me on my mini-bike (a Honda Trail 70 — I’m taking up a collection) and even though my sister Valerie and I used to say “Cow Brains!” to make him puke up his breakfast every day after Mom left for work, just before we caught Bus 93 to school.…

Something neat in Ottawa. I’m a fan of free-standing rocks. (Just ignore the Blog code at the top. I’m not sure why it’s there, and I hope it just goes away. If someone knows someone who can redesign/reorganize this site, please let me know.)

(Overheard in bed) “Anytime I’ve let a spider escape in the house, it has appeared on or near me later somewhere else in the house.” “Why would you let a spider escape, except if you just can’t reach it?” “Compassion.” “Loser.” “My cousin was a robot at Hallowe’en once. I felt so bad for him when it rained and the box fell apart.” “Unh-huh.” “Did I ever tell you about the time Mom agreed to give me 25 cents to buy some Bubble Yum but she made me eat an entire raw onion first?”

“Thank God, I’m no longer a blonde.” Darlene turned from the mirror and swooshed her waist-length (and now carrot-red) mane — all in one dramatic motion. Apparently, this hairdresser was only a blonde for a week, hated it, and opted for something new. I was afraid to ask what her natural colour was – in case she couldn’t remember. As she stood by the mirror in her low-rider jeans and tank top, warming herself with a hair dryer this snowy Ottawa day, I thought: True, blonde would be a disadvantage for you. Thankfully, she doesn’t cut my hair. I was in Zahia’s shop on Clarence for my usual clip. Zahia’s…

Save the Children USA has a new campaign of banner ads on Web sites. They say: “Act. Give. Learn. Shop. Make a Difference.” Shop?