What follows are remarks I made when given the humbling and daunting task of giving a toast to my graduating class at some festivities last weekend (it was an awesome night, by the way). I figured I'd put it up here for posterity's sake, and perhaps to jog some hazy memories.
Oh, and kindly hold your "congratulations on graduating" remarks until the conclusion of the performance, being my last exam on April 23rd.
---------
I suppose a good place to start at a time like this, as we're nearing the end, is to think about the beginning. In our case, the beginning for us as a collective was the first day at the Fraser Building in September of 2006 (or 1997 for some of our esteemed co-op students). And as I looked around room 159 that first morning at all of my new classmates, sure much of what I saw was to be expected: one guy cussing like a sailor, another guy that the women were all fawning over and a woman with a rather over-the-top hairstyle. I knew, however, that I was somewhere special when I figured out that the guy who was cussing was my contracts prof., the apple of the ladies' eyes was teaching evidence, and the woman with the two-toned bright red hairdo is one of Canada's leading feminist legal scholars.
And I think those initial observations appropriately sum up a lot about the experience of going to UVic Law: things are done a little differently around here. From co-op to law center, Dean's barbeques to skit nights, and law games to lounge chats, while we may soon have the same letters after our names as other Canadian law students, we have definitely had a stranger trip in getting there. Indeed, it is the strangeness of the trip and our shared experiences over the past three years that bond us together here tonight.
That having been said, however, it would be naive of me to stand up here and say that we have become a group of 100 best friends. More than naive, such an implication would also be a disservice to the remarkably varied backgrounds and perspectives we all came here with and will soon be leaving with. The intimate nature of our faculty notwithstanding, it would be foolish to expect a group that ranges as much as we do in terms of academic priorities, extracurricular interests and personal and professional aspirations, to emerge at the end of three years as one cohesive unit.
In fact, there have been moments when the striking diversity of our student population has led to tangible friction. And I know that we have all had moments as individuals when we've felt that our own interests and perspectives have left us with the short end of the stick, whether in a classroom, at a wine and cheese or sitting in a lunchtime talk. The diversity and progression that this faculty seeks to embody, and the distinction that comes along with them, also bring their share of challenges. That we as one student body have continually sought to meet these challenges in the spirit of a peaceful co-existence with room for dissenting opinions, speaks to the intellectual integrity that we are leaving here with. We have not always agreed with each other, but I for one am grateful that I have spent the past three years in an environment where there are such engaging and intelligent people to disagree with, and where my personal views have been continually challenged by my peers. There is no harmony when everyone sings the same note, and I for one think that we have all made some beautiful music together.
And making music together - and you can take that however you'd like - is just one of the things people have used as a compliment to, or diversion, from our academic pursuits. Indeed, it would seem that for every class offered to us, there were two or three things we could do outside of class. For the athlete in each of us, there were the intramural leagues. The musicians and performers could always look forward to strutting their stuff at Lucky Bar for Air Bands or the Metro Theater for skit night. And for those who wanted a more direct link to the classroom, the ELC, IHRLA, UAWL, Outlaws, the Crim Law Club, the Black Law Students Association of Canada and others would bring any number of conference opportunities and lunchtime talks. In fact, if one were so inclined - and I know many of us tried - one's daily schedule could be chocked-full of entirely non-academic pursuits.
And then, of course, we had the social time that was entirely extra-curricular. And here again, there were as many different ways of enjoying social time as there were members of our class. For some of us, it meant hanging from the rafters at house parties, perhaps at the dearly departed Crap Shack, or having a drink or two out on the town. For others, it would be an afternoon walk with a classmate, perhaps a cup of coffee or a rousing game of Crainium on a Friday night. And of course there were the weekly poker games. Still for others, simply holding court in the lounge during the week would prove as socially enriching as anything, as we sat watching the world go by, drifting in and out of conversations with whomever would pull up a couch.
Indeed, having a strong social network - be it of family, friends, partners or pets - has been a crutch for many of us. I would find it hard to believe that there is a single one among us who has made it through the past three years without ever relying on someone else when the going got tough or the Property Law needed outlining. And for this we owe a debt of gratitude - certainly to our peers, but perhaps more significantly to the people who stood by us and offered a hand despite not subjecting themselves to the same sort of masochism that we chose to undertake when we walked into the Fraser Building for the first time.
But now with three years of classes, conferences and hangouts almost completely behind us, we sit here tonight on the brink of starting our chosen careers, whatever those may be. With these careers will come a whole new set of challenges and a new kind of prioritizing. The American poet R.A. Zimmerman warns of the character Ophelia, whose profession is her religion, and her sin is her lifelessness. Her profession is her religion and her sin is her lifelessness. I think that there's a valid warning in there for each of us as we leave here, regardless of what career path we may take. Whether we spend our working days at a home office on Salt Spring, a boutique firm in Kits or a sky-scraper in Toronto, we should all seek to avoid adopting our profession as a religion and committing the sin of lifelessness. Indeed, while our professional challenges are sure to be significant, perhaps the biggest challenge of them all will be staying human amidst the demands our careers will place on us. Remaining engaged in our communities - be it as a hockey coach, charity volunteer or simply as a good friend and neighbour to those around us - is something that we will each have to mindfully seek to do, so as not to fall victim to the traps of burnout, over-extension and self-absorption that are all too common in the legal profession. Higher education is an opportunity afforded to far too few in this world, and it is now the duty of each of us to contribute to the greater good in our own ways, so as to not squander the privilege we have enjoyed of spending three years studying the law and expanding our minds alongside a peer group whose talents and abilities are nothing short of remarkable.
We will also have a duty to uphold high standards of professional conduct. This, despite the fact that the prescribed standards we are to adhere to can sometimes be vague and offer little in the way of direct guidance. As such, it will be up to each of us to remain proactive and vigilant, constantly keeping ourselves in check to make sure that we are living up to high standards of personal and professional integrity. This will lead to moments of struggle for each of us, to be sure, but with the great honour of entering the legal profession comes the equally great burden of holding ourselves to the highest standards of ethics. Having the right to do something does not make it the right thing to do, and that is an important distinction we will all have to continually keep in mind. It is the cowardly lawyer who rationalizes conduct that violates good judgment and moral fibre by hiding behind ambiguous rules of professional conduct. Rather, constant self-regulation will be required by each of us, so that we are not fodder for a new generation of lawyer jokes.
But before we head on our merry way, we will raise a glass together tonight. The commonality of our experiences over the past three years have bonded us together, and it is now up to each of us to ensure that those bonds remain strong, cherished and nurtured as we move on with our lives and careers in the years ahead. Let us now lift up our glasses, class of 2009, and drink to the different roads that brought us here, the journey we have shared, and a future that is wide open.
Cheers.
Friday, April 3, 2009
Friday, March 27, 2009
Something to Shoot For
It's been ten years since we lost my father. Ten years to the day since our family's final goodbyes at the bedside on a warm spring morning. And ten years since his hometown lost a man whose devotion to his community and neighbours was second to none.
And the city of Ottawa loved him, too. Trying to run even the briefest of errands around town with Drew Shouldice always took at least twice as long as one would expect. It seemed impossible for him to turn a corner anywhere in town without running into an old friend.
I have been wanting to write something about my father to mark this anniversary, but have been unsure as to what form it should take. This certainly does not need to be an obituary, and there is already enough written out there by people who lost loved ones at too young an age. I don't need to tell you that life is short and that each day should be lived to its fullest. Instead, I think I'll pass along what remains the most enduring lesson I took from the 18 years I had with him.
Granted, there was a lot that I picked up in observing how my dad lived his life. The importance of shaking a hand over throwing a punch, why we should remember people's birthdays, and how wearing a tie and walking with purpose can get you past almost any security guard on the planet were all tidbits I picked up along the way that have served me well to this point. Still though, there is one lesson that stands out above all others.
I have previously said that my father knew a lot of people, and this is certainly true. He also knew a broad cross section of folks - from cabinet makers to cabinet ministers - and never stopped making friends as he went. However, no matter who he was dealing with, and no matter what the context, my father treated everyone he came into contact with the exact same way. That is to say that his levels of respect and compassion never varied. This is the most enduring lesson I took from my father, and if it doesn't speak to the character of a man then I don't know what does.
Indeed, be it the cable guy, my friends playing road hockey or the mayor of Ottawa, Dad gave everyone the time of day, and was never too good to be friendly or too busy to be kind. If I were to read a transcript of my father's side of any conversation he ever had, I do not know that I would be able to tell you if he was talking to the new kid working at the grocery store or a decorated veteran of the second world war. And yet, he somehow managed to always be genuine as he did this, without talking down to people on the one hand or being too familiar on the other.
If this sounds like no big deal, I would ask you to do the same while you go about your day. The reactions you will get and the connections you will develop as you treat everyone you meet - everyone you meet - with the same respect that you would wish for yourself will show you that it is, in fact, a very big deal. That my father lived this way every day for his short-but-wide 52 years explains to me why there was a line stretching down the block from the funeral home in the days after he died, and why he is still sorely missed.
And so today and everyday I reflect back on this lesson, among others, and the man from whom I continue to learn. The path I have chosen differs from his, to be sure, but the principles remain and for that I am grateful.
Thanks, Dad. Tonight I raise my glass to you.
Peace,
Hart
Monday, March 16, 2009
Hart is Blogging
Ah the Facebook status. My generation's way of letting the world know all those things about ourselves that are too mundane to actually talk about in person...or on the phone...or in an e-mail...or in a Facebook message...or via wall posting. Yes indeed, with the status we have those little mental throwaways that we don't think warrant some form of communication higher on the interpersonal food chain, but are just too important to let slip into the ether. I myself have come to embrace the status update as a means of collecting the minute details of the lives of acquaintances, to be recalled in times of social awkwardness or when preceding a favour request.
It was with some dismay, then, that I witnessed the utter chaos that erupted in status boxes throughout cyberspace this past week as Facebook unveiled yet another new format. The dear old status box which prompted us by starting things off with a friendly "is," has been replaced by a Twitter-esque blank canvas asking "What's on your mind?". With these new developments all hell has broken loose on Facebook pages everywhere. The masses have been left to roam around their own profiles not knowing what form status updates are to take. We are now a lost updating generation, akin to millions of Wal-Mart shoppers trying to find low prices without the benefit a greeter.
In the interest of posterity and to preserve the concept of the Facebook status for future generations, I have decided to compile a list of the 10 most common status updates by category. I will present them here, on A Harty Meal, and also bury them in a time capsule under my Aunt Nancy's porch so that the relevance and art of the Facebook status will never be forgotten. There are some status updates that escape any of the following categorizations, I am aware, but such bold and reckless Facebooking does not warrant blog space and should not be encouraged under any circumstances, lest the terrorists win.
Two administrative details before we proceed:
1. I, myself, have been guilty of almost all of these. I am well aware of this and it means that I can refer to them as a friendly and self-aware co-conspirator and not a cynical outsider. My pointing out my guilt in all of this also means that Peter Loewen cannot do it for me, as I know that he would.
2. While there is inspiration here from real statuses, none are plucked verbatim. As for the names, so as not to arouse suspicion of whose statuses were particularly helpful in compiling this list, all of the names below are culled from the alphabetical list of Members of the Order of Canada, starting with A.
And now, on with the show:
1. The Weekend Update
Examples:
Irving is glad it's the weekend.
Alan wishes the weekend was longer.
Wayne is wiped. What a weekend!
I think that people who use this one lose sight of the facts that we all just had two days off, we all looked forward to them, and we all wished they were longer. Depending on who you ask, you can either thank the Jewish faith, Communism or Henry Ford for the concept of the 40 hour work week and, thus, the weekend. Any beefs about the length of said weekend should be taken up with one of the aforementioned, so I don't think that filing a grievance in your status will get you very far. The Weekend Update is only acceptable if you can also post an update stating "played an irreverent golf whiz in Caddyshack" or "is tired of being asked about my Sarah Palin impression."
2. The Workout Update
Examples:
Frances ran 10K and sure is feeling it!
Freda just did squats and pulldowns. Lats tomorrow if my back feels better.
Hey, we all want to keep healthy. Beyond that, we're all psyched that you're at a point in your life now where you spend more time at the gym and less time owning the hidden level on Tony Hawk Pro Skater for the original Play Station. It's just that, you aren't a professional baseball game, so there probably aren't any folks keeping score at home.
3. The Baby Update
Examples:
Robert just watched (baby's name) do (walk/skate/poop/other milestone) for the first time. So cute!
Irvin is taking (baby's name) out for a (walk/run/poop).
Ubiquitous among new parents, these status updates are often accompanied by the classic and precious "newborn as profile picture" maneuver or an elaborate "mobile uploads" photo album meticulously documenting the ride home from the hospital. Babies seem to have a way of hijacking Facebook profiles, though I have to admit to being a sucker for seeing a little head shielded by a tiny toque when I log in.
4. The Promotional Update
Examples:
Madeline-Ann is selling tickets to Signal Hill at the Pub Friday night! Ladies free before 10!
Anne-Marie hopes that you all come see her final opera performance of the month on Thursday night.
Hey, you do what you gotta do to get the word out. Your weekly "Ladies Night" status updates are starting to lose their effectiveness at this point, though, and given that I live on the other side of the country, I probably won't be there.
5. The Higher Education Update
Examples:
Michael is so tired after studying Constitutional Law all night. Who knew it was so complicated.
Anahareo's thesis just is NOT writing itself.
These ones are all well and good, but they lose points in the subtlety department. "Michael is in law school," or "Anahareo is working on a PhD" would have been just as easy and conveyed the point you were trying to make. (Crap, that reminds me, I have some law school work to do tonight.)
6. The Cry for Help Update
A.C. wishes it wasn't so hard.
Doris really doesn't know what to do, and misses him so.
Ever heard of "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?" Sweet, so you are familiar with the concept of phoning a friend, then? We all have hard times, but in the interest of efficiency, let's cut out the middle man, save four of your friends the trouble of having to write "What's wrong dude/hon?" under your status and just ask someone to talk over a cup of coffee.
7. The Wedding Update
Examples:
Gerald can't believe the wedding is only three weeks away. So much left to do!
Ralph is getting fitted for a gown today. Eeeeeeeee so exciting.
See, I think these ones are a little rough, given that everyone who has been invited already knows about your impending nuptials. You'd be just as well writing "If you're reading this and don't have an invitation yet, we're not as close as you think." Ouch.
8. The Countdown Update
Examples:
John is eight more days!
Syl can't believe he'll be there in 12 days.
This has always been a popular one, and was one of the most common grammatical violators back when Facebook still forced you to put "is" in your status. People seldom tell you what, specifically, they are counting down to, however empirical evidence suggests that 97% of the time it is either: A) a visit to/from a boy/girlfriend or B) an all-inclusive tropical vacation.
9. The Are You Really Updating Your Status at a Time Like This(?) Update
Examples:
Violet is watching the sunrise over the Grand Canyon.
Raffi is standing at a urinal next to Barack Obama.
Bona is driving a stick shift for the first time!
Here we have people updating their status when they should probably be focusing on the task at hand. Granted, we all have moments that are so significant we just can't wait to share them with our friends, however there is something be said for living in the moment. Using the past tense on updates like these would not have compromised their awesomeness in any way, shape or form and would have meant that you didn't miss the pass of Hailey's Comet because your "U" key was sticky.
10. The Tired Update
Example (there is only one here):
Mira is tired.
Perhaps the most common update ever seen on Facebook. Thanks, Mira. Noted.
--
So that's the list. Feel free to add others in the "Comments" section below. Good luck with the new Facebook, have a pleasant week, and may your status always start with "is".
Peace,
Hart
It was with some dismay, then, that I witnessed the utter chaos that erupted in status boxes throughout cyberspace this past week as Facebook unveiled yet another new format. The dear old status box which prompted us by starting things off with a friendly "is," has been replaced by a Twitter-esque blank canvas asking "What's on your mind?". With these new developments all hell has broken loose on Facebook pages everywhere. The masses have been left to roam around their own profiles not knowing what form status updates are to take. We are now a lost updating generation, akin to millions of Wal-Mart shoppers trying to find low prices without the benefit a greeter.
In the interest of posterity and to preserve the concept of the Facebook status for future generations, I have decided to compile a list of the 10 most common status updates by category. I will present them here, on A Harty Meal, and also bury them in a time capsule under my Aunt Nancy's porch so that the relevance and art of the Facebook status will never be forgotten. There are some status updates that escape any of the following categorizations, I am aware, but such bold and reckless Facebooking does not warrant blog space and should not be encouraged under any circumstances, lest the terrorists win.
Two administrative details before we proceed:
1. I, myself, have been guilty of almost all of these. I am well aware of this and it means that I can refer to them as a friendly and self-aware co-conspirator and not a cynical outsider. My pointing out my guilt in all of this also means that Peter Loewen cannot do it for me, as I know that he would.
2. While there is inspiration here from real statuses, none are plucked verbatim. As for the names, so as not to arouse suspicion of whose statuses were particularly helpful in compiling this list, all of the names below are culled from the alphabetical list of Members of the Order of Canada, starting with A.
And now, on with the show:
1. The Weekend Update
Examples:
Irving is glad it's the weekend.
Alan wishes the weekend was longer.
Wayne is wiped. What a weekend!
I think that people who use this one lose sight of the facts that we all just had two days off, we all looked forward to them, and we all wished they were longer. Depending on who you ask, you can either thank the Jewish faith, Communism or Henry Ford for the concept of the 40 hour work week and, thus, the weekend. Any beefs about the length of said weekend should be taken up with one of the aforementioned, so I don't think that filing a grievance in your status will get you very far. The Weekend Update is only acceptable if you can also post an update stating "played an irreverent golf whiz in Caddyshack" or "is tired of being asked about my Sarah Palin impression."
2. The Workout Update
Examples:
Frances ran 10K and sure is feeling it!
Freda just did squats and pulldowns. Lats tomorrow if my back feels better.
Hey, we all want to keep healthy. Beyond that, we're all psyched that you're at a point in your life now where you spend more time at the gym and less time owning the hidden level on Tony Hawk Pro Skater for the original Play Station. It's just that, you aren't a professional baseball game, so there probably aren't any folks keeping score at home.
3. The Baby Update
Examples:
Robert just watched (baby's name) do (walk/skate/poop/other milestone) for the first time. So cute!
Irvin is taking (baby's name) out for a (walk/run/poop).
Ubiquitous among new parents, these status updates are often accompanied by the classic and precious "newborn as profile picture" maneuver or an elaborate "mobile uploads" photo album meticulously documenting the ride home from the hospital. Babies seem to have a way of hijacking Facebook profiles, though I have to admit to being a sucker for seeing a little head shielded by a tiny toque when I log in.
4. The Promotional Update
Examples:
Madeline-Ann is selling tickets to Signal Hill at the Pub Friday night! Ladies free before 10!
Anne-Marie hopes that you all come see her final opera performance of the month on Thursday night.
Hey, you do what you gotta do to get the word out. Your weekly "Ladies Night" status updates are starting to lose their effectiveness at this point, though, and given that I live on the other side of the country, I probably won't be there.
5. The Higher Education Update
Examples:
Michael is so tired after studying Constitutional Law all night. Who knew it was so complicated.
Anahareo's thesis just is NOT writing itself.
These ones are all well and good, but they lose points in the subtlety department. "Michael is in law school," or "Anahareo is working on a PhD" would have been just as easy and conveyed the point you were trying to make. (Crap, that reminds me, I have some law school work to do tonight.)
6. The Cry for Help Update
A.C. wishes it wasn't so hard.
Doris really doesn't know what to do, and misses him so.
Ever heard of "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?" Sweet, so you are familiar with the concept of phoning a friend, then? We all have hard times, but in the interest of efficiency, let's cut out the middle man, save four of your friends the trouble of having to write "What's wrong dude/hon?" under your status and just ask someone to talk over a cup of coffee.
7. The Wedding Update
Examples:
Gerald can't believe the wedding is only three weeks away. So much left to do!
Ralph is getting fitted for a gown today. Eeeeeeeee so exciting.
See, I think these ones are a little rough, given that everyone who has been invited already knows about your impending nuptials. You'd be just as well writing "If you're reading this and don't have an invitation yet, we're not as close as you think." Ouch.
8. The Countdown Update
Examples:
John is eight more days!
Syl can't believe he'll be there in 12 days.
This has always been a popular one, and was one of the most common grammatical violators back when Facebook still forced you to put "is" in your status. People seldom tell you what, specifically, they are counting down to, however empirical evidence suggests that 97% of the time it is either: A) a visit to/from a boy/girlfriend or B) an all-inclusive tropical vacation.
9. The Are You Really Updating Your Status at a Time Like This(?) Update
Examples:
Violet is watching the sunrise over the Grand Canyon.
Raffi is standing at a urinal next to Barack Obama.
Bona is driving a stick shift for the first time!
Here we have people updating their status when they should probably be focusing on the task at hand. Granted, we all have moments that are so significant we just can't wait to share them with our friends, however there is something be said for living in the moment. Using the past tense on updates like these would not have compromised their awesomeness in any way, shape or form and would have meant that you didn't miss the pass of Hailey's Comet because your "U" key was sticky.
10. The Tired Update
Example (there is only one here):
Mira is tired.
Perhaps the most common update ever seen on Facebook. Thanks, Mira. Noted.
--
So that's the list. Feel free to add others in the "Comments" section below. Good luck with the new Facebook, have a pleasant week, and may your status always start with "is".
Peace,
Hart
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
62 Years Ago Today
73 centimeters of snow fell in Ottawa on March 3, 1947. This remains the single greatest day of snowfall the city has ever recorded. The next morning, the Ottawa Citizen ran three lines of text telling the story of firefighters pulling my grandmother on a toboggan to the front doors of the Civic Hospital. So began a truly wonderful life.
Happy birthday Dad.
Happy birthday Dad.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
The Old Home Place
My old house burned down Sunday night. You can see video of it here. The top floor was all that burned, but I would be very surprised if the rest of it is deemed livable again. It was a classic three-story Victorian with creaky hardwood floors, drafty windows and claw-foot tubs, and its top floor was my home for the final two years of my undergrad degree. Sure, it wasn't my childhood home, but it would be short-sighted to dismiss 46 Bridge Street in Sackville, New Brunswick, as simply a place where I lived for a couple of years in college. The years I spent there were two of the most formative I can recall, and many of the friendships that were developed in that very house remain pillars of who I am.
There were quad-occupancy apartments on each floor, with my buddies and I occupying the penthouse from 2001-2003 (and, funnily enough, my sister living in the middle apartment from 1998-2000). The pool table and the bar were already there when we moved in, and we made sure to exploit them to their full social and procrastinatory potential. I am a little bit sheepish now, recalling the vigor with which I pursued a stereotypical college-boy existence in apartment C, and the appalling standards of cleanliness to which I held myself, but I don't feel the need to make any apologies for having been good at being 21.
Which is not to say that the relationships developed in that house were forced, or existed only for the purpose of having drinking buddies. Sure, some of the friendships were specific to that time and place and have remained dormant since I moved out, but many others have not. As I stood at the altar next to a dear friend on his wedding day this past summer, I could not help but remember having "We Are the Champions" cued up when he came home to 46 C after his first date with the girl who would become the woman walking down the aisle. And next weekend I'll enjoy a ski trip here in BC with another former housemate: one whom I got to know better than I could have possibly imagined through interminable hours spent together without taking our eyes off the PlayStation.
Indeed, I was fortunate beyond my karmic entitlement when it came to the cast of characters I spent time with in that house. I learned more than I ever would have cared to about chemistry or knife-sculpting from my more academically motivated room mates, spent some electric Friday nights playing music with two generations of downstairs neighbours, and learned an awful lot about loyalty from the girls on the first floor.
I know that nothing is permanent - indeed, it is a truth in which I take much comfort. That having been said, the finality of 46 Bridge having burned is all too permanent, and is a tough pill to swallow. It chokes me to know that I'll never again be able to point to the bedroom where I worked on 8 courses in my final semester. Or the window that AJ rappelled out of one sunny May afternoon, putting his heel through the window on the second floor. Or the living room where Noel, Greg, Andrew G. and I would spend hazy nights trying to get under each others' skin in discussions about music, hockey or women (sometimes all three if we were feeling especially ambitious), while The Big Lebowski or a Dave Matthews Band concert video played in the VCR.
Perhaps there was nothing remarkable about the two hilarious and educational years I spent up there, but the fact that I am feeling more than a little twisted up about this tells me that I was blessed to have had a place to live that was truly my home, rather than a temporary collegiate abode. I think tonight I'll throw on a little Jimmy Swift Band and drink a cold bottle of Keith's, looking back on my days out East and raising my glass to the people who made those years what they were, and the big white house on Bridge Street.
Peace,
Hart
P.S. For anyone who may be interested - especially 46 Bridge St. alumni - donations to the students impacted by the fire can be sent to:
Mount Allison Students' Administrative Council
62 York Street.
Sackville, NB
E4L 1A4
There were quad-occupancy apartments on each floor, with my buddies and I occupying the penthouse from 2001-2003 (and, funnily enough, my sister living in the middle apartment from 1998-2000). The pool table and the bar were already there when we moved in, and we made sure to exploit them to their full social and procrastinatory potential. I am a little bit sheepish now, recalling the vigor with which I pursued a stereotypical college-boy existence in apartment C, and the appalling standards of cleanliness to which I held myself, but I don't feel the need to make any apologies for having been good at being 21.
Which is not to say that the relationships developed in that house were forced, or existed only for the purpose of having drinking buddies. Sure, some of the friendships were specific to that time and place and have remained dormant since I moved out, but many others have not. As I stood at the altar next to a dear friend on his wedding day this past summer, I could not help but remember having "We Are the Champions" cued up when he came home to 46 C after his first date with the girl who would become the woman walking down the aisle. And next weekend I'll enjoy a ski trip here in BC with another former housemate: one whom I got to know better than I could have possibly imagined through interminable hours spent together without taking our eyes off the PlayStation.
Indeed, I was fortunate beyond my karmic entitlement when it came to the cast of characters I spent time with in that house. I learned more than I ever would have cared to about chemistry or knife-sculpting from my more academically motivated room mates, spent some electric Friday nights playing music with two generations of downstairs neighbours, and learned an awful lot about loyalty from the girls on the first floor.
I know that nothing is permanent - indeed, it is a truth in which I take much comfort. That having been said, the finality of 46 Bridge having burned is all too permanent, and is a tough pill to swallow. It chokes me to know that I'll never again be able to point to the bedroom where I worked on 8 courses in my final semester. Or the window that AJ rappelled out of one sunny May afternoon, putting his heel through the window on the second floor. Or the living room where Noel, Greg, Andrew G. and I would spend hazy nights trying to get under each others' skin in discussions about music, hockey or women (sometimes all three if we were feeling especially ambitious), while The Big Lebowski or a Dave Matthews Band concert video played in the VCR.
Perhaps there was nothing remarkable about the two hilarious and educational years I spent up there, but the fact that I am feeling more than a little twisted up about this tells me that I was blessed to have had a place to live that was truly my home, rather than a temporary collegiate abode. I think tonight I'll throw on a little Jimmy Swift Band and drink a cold bottle of Keith's, looking back on my days out East and raising my glass to the people who made those years what they were, and the big white house on Bridge Street.
Peace,
Hart
P.S. For anyone who may be interested - especially 46 Bridge St. alumni - donations to the students impacted by the fire can be sent to:
Mount Allison Students' Administrative Council
62 York Street.
Sackville, NB
E4L 1A4
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Election Envy
(Full Disclosure: I am a dual Canadian/U.S. citizen who only voted in one major election this Fall).
“So, have you guys been following the election,” my buddy asked a couple of months ago over piping hot boxes of stir fry while Federal campaigns played out on both sides of the border.
“Which one?”
“Yeah, good question,” he chuckled, knowing full well that I knew he meant Canada's. Sadly, though, I was not joking. Even with our own significant federal election on the go this Fall (there is no such thing as an insignificant process of deciding who will make our laws), Canadians found it much more fun to peer over the fence and see what our neighbours were up to than to keep our own democratic home fires burning. Quantification of such things and the motivations for them is tricky at best (paging Dr. Loewen), but if I had a dollar for every Canadian I heard waxing philosophical about the American election – especially when compared with the number I didn’t hear talking about our own – I would be able to buy the Ottawa Senators a playoff-caliber goaltender.
“Well, it’s just that our election is so short,” people say. “I mean, it happened so quickly, we hardly had time to get into it.” Hardly had time to get into it? This is democracy in action, not season three of Desperate Housewives. The six weeks or so between the election call – which was hardly a surprise – and the day itself allowed ample time for the even the most discerning voter to decide upon priorities, research platforms and choose a candidate. The American model of astronomical spending (nearly $1 billion on this election alone) and a laborious two-year campaign (during which the public servants who are in the running largely ignore their existing representational duties) is hardly something to aspire to. That Canadians cite the efficiency of our multi-party Federal elections as a reason not to become engaged is like saying that you don’t want to spend less time and effort studying even if you know it would improve your grades. Shouldn’t we be proud that we can choose one Prime Minister out of five possibilities in a fraction of the time it takes Americans to choose one leader out of two?
Then again, the bi-partisan system presented by American politics is what makes those elections that much more palatable to the masses. Once the primaries are done there are only two major candidates to choose from (sorry Mr. Nader), so it becomes easy to choose your candidate based on “us versus them” thinking which leads naturally to a cozy and oversimplified “good vs. evil” narrative. Once you join that “1, 000, 000 Strong For Obama” Facebook group, you are proclaiming your progressive nature to the world and don’t have to bother acknowledging the fact that he supports coal-fired energy before a reduction in consumption, or is staunchly politically opposed to gay marriage. Conversely, slapping a McCain/Palin bumper sticker on your car tells the world that you believe in old-fashioned values and a laissez-faire approach to economic governance, irrespective of the fact that Senator McCain was all in favour of the $700 billion Wall Street bailout. Being outspokenly engaged during a multi-party election might mean having to explain yourself, whereas being cool and wearing an Obama t-shirt is a much safer way to let people know what a good person you are.
To that end, I think being cool has a lot to do with our chronic case of election envy: the fact of the matter is, theirs are much sexier than ours. Tina Fey’s Stephen Harper impression is rusty at best; Will.I.Am hasn’t made any glossy black-and-white videos name-checking Elizabeth May; and Jon Stewart has yet to invite Stéphane Dion to pay him a visit. Once you strip away the pop culture hype, there is little left to talk about but the issues themselves, which aren’t as easy to discuss at the water cooler as this weekend’s Saturday Night Live.
I do realize that “pop culture hype” largely refers to the noise that surrounded the Obama campaign, and that is where much of my frustration on this topic comes from: the willingness of so many Canadians to openly embrace his politics and candidacy over those of any candidate closer to home.
And this is a practice which is entirely antithetical to the whole Obama brand.
The president-elect’s background and rhetoric speak very strongly to the importance of getting involved to affect change on the local level. If one wanted to heed his message, then, would it not make more sense to work towards change by speaking out (and voting) locally than it would to sip a Keith’s and cheer while watching CNN? There is a universality to what Barack Obama has to say – I myself have been inspired by it – but to pledge one’s support despite not being able to vote for him and then do little with his message in our own communities seems like a fruitless endeavour that has little more value than your run-of-the-mill celebrity worship. If every hip young Canadian who wore an Obama button or spoke out against John McCain put the same effort into, say, rallying behind his or her local NDP candidate, those same hip young Canadians might not now be complaining about another “evil” and “out of touch” Conservative government in Ottawa.
I am not in any way denying that the effects of an Obama presidency will be felt around the world – perhaps nowhere as strongly outside of the U.S. as here in Canada. Nor am I seeking to sell short the historical implications of the American election and its result, as I shared hugs and felt the chills last Tuesday night. What I am lamenting is the willingness of so many Canadians to choose watching history from a front row seat over taking ownership of the present from the driver’s seat. If our idea of being a part of change is watching it unfold on TV, then we have exactly the out-of-touch government we deserve.
“So, have you guys been following the election,” my buddy asked a couple of months ago over piping hot boxes of stir fry while Federal campaigns played out on both sides of the border.
“Which one?”
“Yeah, good question,” he chuckled, knowing full well that I knew he meant Canada's. Sadly, though, I was not joking. Even with our own significant federal election on the go this Fall (there is no such thing as an insignificant process of deciding who will make our laws), Canadians found it much more fun to peer over the fence and see what our neighbours were up to than to keep our own democratic home fires burning. Quantification of such things and the motivations for them is tricky at best (paging Dr. Loewen), but if I had a dollar for every Canadian I heard waxing philosophical about the American election – especially when compared with the number I didn’t hear talking about our own – I would be able to buy the Ottawa Senators a playoff-caliber goaltender.
“Well, it’s just that our election is so short,” people say. “I mean, it happened so quickly, we hardly had time to get into it.” Hardly had time to get into it? This is democracy in action, not season three of Desperate Housewives. The six weeks or so between the election call – which was hardly a surprise – and the day itself allowed ample time for the even the most discerning voter to decide upon priorities, research platforms and choose a candidate. The American model of astronomical spending (nearly $1 billion on this election alone) and a laborious two-year campaign (during which the public servants who are in the running largely ignore their existing representational duties) is hardly something to aspire to. That Canadians cite the efficiency of our multi-party Federal elections as a reason not to become engaged is like saying that you don’t want to spend less time and effort studying even if you know it would improve your grades. Shouldn’t we be proud that we can choose one Prime Minister out of five possibilities in a fraction of the time it takes Americans to choose one leader out of two?
Then again, the bi-partisan system presented by American politics is what makes those elections that much more palatable to the masses. Once the primaries are done there are only two major candidates to choose from (sorry Mr. Nader), so it becomes easy to choose your candidate based on “us versus them” thinking which leads naturally to a cozy and oversimplified “good vs. evil” narrative. Once you join that “1, 000, 000 Strong For Obama” Facebook group, you are proclaiming your progressive nature to the world and don’t have to bother acknowledging the fact that he supports coal-fired energy before a reduction in consumption, or is staunchly politically opposed to gay marriage. Conversely, slapping a McCain/Palin bumper sticker on your car tells the world that you believe in old-fashioned values and a laissez-faire approach to economic governance, irrespective of the fact that Senator McCain was all in favour of the $700 billion Wall Street bailout. Being outspokenly engaged during a multi-party election might mean having to explain yourself, whereas being cool and wearing an Obama t-shirt is a much safer way to let people know what a good person you are.
To that end, I think being cool has a lot to do with our chronic case of election envy: the fact of the matter is, theirs are much sexier than ours. Tina Fey’s Stephen Harper impression is rusty at best; Will.I.Am hasn’t made any glossy black-and-white videos name-checking Elizabeth May; and Jon Stewart has yet to invite Stéphane Dion to pay him a visit. Once you strip away the pop culture hype, there is little left to talk about but the issues themselves, which aren’t as easy to discuss at the water cooler as this weekend’s Saturday Night Live.
I do realize that “pop culture hype” largely refers to the noise that surrounded the Obama campaign, and that is where much of my frustration on this topic comes from: the willingness of so many Canadians to openly embrace his politics and candidacy over those of any candidate closer to home.
And this is a practice which is entirely antithetical to the whole Obama brand.
The president-elect’s background and rhetoric speak very strongly to the importance of getting involved to affect change on the local level. If one wanted to heed his message, then, would it not make more sense to work towards change by speaking out (and voting) locally than it would to sip a Keith’s and cheer while watching CNN? There is a universality to what Barack Obama has to say – I myself have been inspired by it – but to pledge one’s support despite not being able to vote for him and then do little with his message in our own communities seems like a fruitless endeavour that has little more value than your run-of-the-mill celebrity worship. If every hip young Canadian who wore an Obama button or spoke out against John McCain put the same effort into, say, rallying behind his or her local NDP candidate, those same hip young Canadians might not now be complaining about another “evil” and “out of touch” Conservative government in Ottawa.
I am not in any way denying that the effects of an Obama presidency will be felt around the world – perhaps nowhere as strongly outside of the U.S. as here in Canada. Nor am I seeking to sell short the historical implications of the American election and its result, as I shared hugs and felt the chills last Tuesday night. What I am lamenting is the willingness of so many Canadians to choose watching history from a front row seat over taking ownership of the present from the driver’s seat. If our idea of being a part of change is watching it unfold on TV, then we have exactly the out-of-touch government we deserve.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
On Two Wheels
“Hey man, why should I bike to school?”
The question is one that I have learned to laugh off. Since becoming a mild advocate of two-wheeled transportation among my peers, I have found this question to be most often asked as a set-up to some sort of “Well, I do my part by not mowing over cyclists as I drive past them” punch line (hilarious). Knowing that the friend who was currently asking is a five-day-a-week four-doored commuter, and given that we were both a few drinks deep into the night, I didn’t expect much else in this case.
“Why else: because it will make your legs look sexy.” My response was half-assed at best, but I figured that was half an ass more than he had invested in his question.
“No, I’m serious. I need you to tell me why I should bike to school. I need to hear why it’s a good a idea before I do it.”
Wait a second, was he actually asking me why he should bike to school? So in addition to learning a lesson about not making biased assumptions about what people are trying to say (thank you, Sesame Street), I was faced with the unenviable task of having to explain myself.
I started mulling over the benefits of the bike in my head, crossing off one-by-one those that – true as they may be - could be filed under preachy, obvious or hippie-centric. Less C02 being pumped into the atmosphere of our asphyxiating planet? Nah, he doesn’t need to hear that from me; everyone has seen Al Gore’s PowerPoint by now. Better for your health? That would sound odd, given that he appears to be in much better shape than me. Save a few bucks? I’m pretty sure he lives close enough to school that gas money is a negligible expense, and the semesterly parking pass is by this point a sunk cost.
This left me with a bit of a head-scratcher. Surely there must be more to it than that. I look forward to the ride every morning and afternoon for a reason, and it has to be more of a reason than the matter-of-fact practicalities listed above, right?
I gave my buddy what I thought was a decent answer but have continued pondering his question, to the point that it dominated my thought process early on as I weaved my way home through the sunset traffic this afternoon, four days later. It was on my mind as I exchanged pleasantries with the bikers on either side of me leaving campus. I mulled it over as I stopped at my first red light and dreamed about leaning over the handle bars to touch the snow-capped peaks of the Olympic Range, standing on their tippy-toes to see me above the clouds in the distance. I stopped thinking about it as I made my daily screaming descent down Foul Bay Road like an overgrown and unaccountably hairy eight-year old, and let my mind wander farther as I crunched my way over the Fall leaves at the bottom of the hill.
Concentration-deprived as I am, I let my mind wander for the rest of the ride home. Forgetting that I was supposed to be in some sort of period of intense self-examination, I succumbed to a free-form inner monologue that changed with each passing city block:
Fort Street – “Someone is baking cookies. Damn it smells good.”
Cook St. Village – “That new pizza place looks cozy.”
Broughton St. – “Wow, those new condos don’t seem to be in the ten bajillion dollar range. Imagine that.”
Downtown – “Oh snap, I can pick up Noodle Box on the ride home and it is going to be delicious. Sweet.” (sharp right turn onto the sidewalk in front of said eatery)
James Bay – “The water sounds a little choppy tonight.”
And with that I veered into my driveway, snapped back to the present moment and thought myself no closer to answering my friend’s question than I was when I left school.
Hold on, maybe not.
Some guy from Liverpool said that life is what happens when you are busy making other plans. As I bike to and from school, all I plan on doing is getting from point-A to point-B. Despite my limited intentions, however, I seem to come away almost daily with a deeper appreciation for the world that immediately surrounds me. Had I driven to school today (as I sometimes do), I would not have seen the detail in the Olympic Mountains. My youth would not have been recalled with the barreling descent of Foul Bay Road or the percussive treading on leaves at the bottom. From my enclosed perspective, cookies would have gone unsmelled, pizza places undiscovered, Noodle Box undevoured and the ocean unappreciated. Simple pleasures? Perhaps. But there is nothing simple in the sense of awareness and belonging we feel as we develop a deeper connection to the people and places that surround us. As transportation goes, there is no better way to nurture this connection than peacefully navigating the city on two wheels. Of this, I am certain.
Peace,
Hart
P.S. I am hoping that moving forward from today I will be posting regularly again. Please stay tuned.
The question is one that I have learned to laugh off. Since becoming a mild advocate of two-wheeled transportation among my peers, I have found this question to be most often asked as a set-up to some sort of “Well, I do my part by not mowing over cyclists as I drive past them” punch line (hilarious). Knowing that the friend who was currently asking is a five-day-a-week four-doored commuter, and given that we were both a few drinks deep into the night, I didn’t expect much else in this case.
“Why else: because it will make your legs look sexy.” My response was half-assed at best, but I figured that was half an ass more than he had invested in his question.
“No, I’m serious. I need you to tell me why I should bike to school. I need to hear why it’s a good a idea before I do it.”
Wait a second, was he actually asking me why he should bike to school? So in addition to learning a lesson about not making biased assumptions about what people are trying to say (thank you, Sesame Street), I was faced with the unenviable task of having to explain myself.
I started mulling over the benefits of the bike in my head, crossing off one-by-one those that – true as they may be - could be filed under preachy, obvious or hippie-centric. Less C02 being pumped into the atmosphere of our asphyxiating planet? Nah, he doesn’t need to hear that from me; everyone has seen Al Gore’s PowerPoint by now. Better for your health? That would sound odd, given that he appears to be in much better shape than me. Save a few bucks? I’m pretty sure he lives close enough to school that gas money is a negligible expense, and the semesterly parking pass is by this point a sunk cost.
This left me with a bit of a head-scratcher. Surely there must be more to it than that. I look forward to the ride every morning and afternoon for a reason, and it has to be more of a reason than the matter-of-fact practicalities listed above, right?
I gave my buddy what I thought was a decent answer but have continued pondering his question, to the point that it dominated my thought process early on as I weaved my way home through the sunset traffic this afternoon, four days later. It was on my mind as I exchanged pleasantries with the bikers on either side of me leaving campus. I mulled it over as I stopped at my first red light and dreamed about leaning over the handle bars to touch the snow-capped peaks of the Olympic Range, standing on their tippy-toes to see me above the clouds in the distance. I stopped thinking about it as I made my daily screaming descent down Foul Bay Road like an overgrown and unaccountably hairy eight-year old, and let my mind wander farther as I crunched my way over the Fall leaves at the bottom of the hill.
Concentration-deprived as I am, I let my mind wander for the rest of the ride home. Forgetting that I was supposed to be in some sort of period of intense self-examination, I succumbed to a free-form inner monologue that changed with each passing city block:
Fort Street – “Someone is baking cookies. Damn it smells good.”
Cook St. Village – “That new pizza place looks cozy.”
Broughton St. – “Wow, those new condos don’t seem to be in the ten bajillion dollar range. Imagine that.”
Downtown – “Oh snap, I can pick up Noodle Box on the ride home and it is going to be delicious. Sweet.” (sharp right turn onto the sidewalk in front of said eatery)
James Bay – “The water sounds a little choppy tonight.”
And with that I veered into my driveway, snapped back to the present moment and thought myself no closer to answering my friend’s question than I was when I left school.
Hold on, maybe not.
Some guy from Liverpool said that life is what happens when you are busy making other plans. As I bike to and from school, all I plan on doing is getting from point-A to point-B. Despite my limited intentions, however, I seem to come away almost daily with a deeper appreciation for the world that immediately surrounds me. Had I driven to school today (as I sometimes do), I would not have seen the detail in the Olympic Mountains. My youth would not have been recalled with the barreling descent of Foul Bay Road or the percussive treading on leaves at the bottom. From my enclosed perspective, cookies would have gone unsmelled, pizza places undiscovered, Noodle Box undevoured and the ocean unappreciated. Simple pleasures? Perhaps. But there is nothing simple in the sense of awareness and belonging we feel as we develop a deeper connection to the people and places that surround us. As transportation goes, there is no better way to nurture this connection than peacefully navigating the city on two wheels. Of this, I am certain.
Peace,
Hart
P.S. I am hoping that moving forward from today I will be posting regularly again. Please stay tuned.
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