Life Is A Fickle Bitch

I am reminded of the life of Dar Robinson. He was a stuntman whose career spanned from the early 1970's in films like "Papillion" and "The Towering Inferno", well into the 1980's where he'd perform stunts in movies like "Turk 182" and "Sharky's Machine" which starred his friend, Burt Reynolds. So imagine everyone's shock when after a day of shooting dangerous stunts on the set of "Lethal Weapon", the man who once leaped from the dizzying heights of Toronto, Ontario's CN Tower, died in a motorcycle accident. After decades of facing death head on, it was a traffic accident that ended the life of this daredevil.

I am often reminded by that irony, in many facets of life. Like the late-pro wrestler Chris Candido, who managed to survive years of addiction only to succumb to a blood clot after he'd cleaned his life up. Life is a fickle bitch.

Or even more so, the life of Ryan Dunn, which was tragically ended in the twilight hours of this morning. If you were to read his bio, it's a veritable list of do's and don't's for those wishing to avoid bodily harm. The young man who came to fame with his insane stunts and questionable antics through videos made with his chum, Brandon "Bam" Margera, on the Jackass television show and movies, and later on Bam's "Viva La Bam" television program. Probably Dunn's biggest debatable act, was his decision to drive home (allegedly) drunk after visiting a local drinking establishment in West Goshin Township in Pennsylvania.

I am in no way condoning the practice of driving while intoxicated, although, admittedly, I am guilty of doing that same act once myself. It was a very long time ago, and the experience (what I can recall of it, which wasn't very much) was frightening and I've never set foot behind the wheel while intoxicated again. However, to drive my point across, it is somewhat ironic that while Ryan Dunn had throughout his career, performed many stunts that even an insane lunatic would think twice about doing, it was one of life unpredicted occurrences that would take this young man's life.

Two young men. Each in their own right, faced danger and survived, only to be taken way before their time. Each was loved and respected by their peers and their fans. And each will be sorrily missed in the decades to come. Rest In Peace, boys!

A Rose By Any Other Name

"A rose by any other name, is still a rose" is how the saying goes. If one thing is known as such in one place, but referred to as another name elsewhere, the object in question is still the same.

Not entirely true. Not these days, in the age of copyright infringements and such. A kleenex made by any other company, is a facial tissue, even though people will often request a "kleenex" be passed to them. Photocopies are the same. I've heard the term "Xerox this" more than a few times, even though the copy machine was a Canon or a Ricoh.

A term that's always boggled my mind, however, was U.F.O. Generally, an Unidentified Flying Object should refer to any indescribable piece of crap flying through the air. Instead, it's automatically associated with flying saucers and little green men, bent on global invasion. Even when used to clearly explain the inexplicable, people automatically jump to the conclusion that it's alien-associated, and therefore you're either high on drugs or a mental crackpot.

I was watching an episode of SyFy's "Fact or Faked", in which the team investigated a trio of lights that were noticed by thousands over Time's Square in NYC, then again two days later over El Paso, Texas. After a number of inventive experiments, they found success with a triad of skydivers, who dove out into the night sky, with lit flares attached to their feet. Falling first together, the three then separated and formed a triangle in the night sky. The experiment duplicated the original video perfectly, and furthermore, it was revealed by the Air Force in the area, that it was three of their personnel practicing for an air show, on the night in question.

However, on the night that the "Fact or Faked" team were performing the experiments over a Los Angeles night sky, 911 was swarmed with reports of UFO's in the sky. Although, SyFy came forward to reveal that they were responsible for the mysterious light show, many were in doubt, opting instead to believe they were flying saucers.

Those concerned, were correct in their equating the lights over L.A., as being unidentified flying objects, once the flying objects (which were actually falling objects), were identified, they still referred to them as U.F.O.'s.

So a rose by any other name is still a rose.., and an idiot by any other name..., is still an idiot!

Absence Makes The Heart Grow Stronger

A few years ago, I went to the doctor with a medical concern. After a lengthy period of intrusive examinations by a plethora of doctors and specialists, I learned that my concerns were about nothing. However, in their investigation of my wellness, all were perplexed by another mystery. Something that had eluded myself and every other medical professional I'd ever come in contact with. So after a few more tests and research, I was greeted by my personal physician, who sat me down and calmly explained the "syndrome" in which I had been born with. Without getting into too much detail, and the fact that I like to keep some personal demons private, the fact of the matter is, in the end, I can never be a father. There are some other defects that are associated with the condition, one of which necessitates me to visit my doctor once a month to receive a sizeable needle in my backside.

What always bothered me about this fact, was that I'd never be a dad. Granted, I've never really grown up either, but still, I believe I could've been a cool dad. Now, before anyone decides to reassure me that I have other options, don't bother. I've already come to that conclusion. I see that there are a lot of children in the world who deserve a better situation than they've got, and I'm well prepared to venture down that road, when the time comes. In the meantime, however, I'll continue to be the awesome Uncle to my nephew, Jake. The joy that boy feels when he sees me drive up and walk into that house, is second to none. If being an uncle feels that cool, imagine what it must be like to be a parent.

Which brings me to today's subject matter. For a number of years now, three to be exact, I've been kinda following the daily misdeeds of the young woman the media has named the "Tot Mom", aka Casey Anthony, mother to murdered two-year old, Caylee Marie Anthony. I've always believed in the "innocent until proven guilty" credo that modern justice preaches, but the media seldom practices. So when the young mother would be on the receiving end of a barrage of predetermined guilty accusations before even going to trial, by the likes of people like Nancy Grace and others alike, I thought it a little cruel, even though with each passing week, the case against the Tot Mom, seemed to grow more and more prominent.

Fast forward to three years later. The trial for murder is now in it's third week and the defense is now presenting their case. I can't even keep up to the facts of the matter. It seems like every day, Casey's defense attorney, Jose Baez comes up with a crazier and crazier scenario. The one that stands out from this past week, was the preposterous idea that either Casey's brother or father was little Caylee's biological father. That Casey had been molested and raped and sweet little Caylee was the result of that ungodly tryst.

This confuses me so. I'm in no way (ever) going to condone someone having sexual relations with a sibling or daughter, but let's say for the sake of argument, that this accusation was true. Disgusting, but true. How does that make murdering a beautiful little girl, acceptable? Do they really believe the jurors are going to hear those remarks and unanimously come to the conclusion, "Oh, well Casey's dad f*cked her, so baby Caylee deserved to die!" I don't f*cking think so.

It's cases like this and the one that really bothered the shit out of me last year, was the case concerning Zahra Baker. A little girl who had survived a bout with cancer, after losing her hearing and one of her legs, only to be brutally murdered by her evil stepmother.

Any crime against innocents like children, bother the f*ck out of me. Especially since the birth of my nephew. I can't seem to wrap my head around the idea that someone like me, can't have children, even though I'd be pretty good at it, I think, but there's whole world of assholes out there who CAN have children, and they don't appreciate the gift that they present. I still live in a world where I believe that parents are good, decent, loving and supportive people, but then every day, you see it in the news, someone who defies that belief.

I hope, for her sake, that Casey Anthony never murdered her child. It's one thing to accidentally take the life of one's child, but to wrap the little one up in a blanket, traipse around town for weeks, with her in the trunk of your car, then to toss her out into the woods, like a piece of trash... I can't f*cking understand that one. If she's guilty... Lethal injection. Seems a little inhumane. Perhaps. But why grant her the privilege of life, when Caylee wasn't allowed the same gift?

"If Cena Wins, We Riot!!"

I recall a few years ago, watching a WWE-sponsored, ECW (Extreme Championship Wrestling) pay-per-view, in which WWE Superstar, John Cena was in the main event. I cannot, off-hand, recall who he was facing, but rest assured, it was an ECW Original, and the crowd, who at the best of times, have a great dislike for John Cena, were really showing some hate towards the fella that night.

So much so, was the hatred for the WWE star, that there were several signs in the crowd, being hoisted highly and with great pride, that read, "If Cena wins, we riot!!!" Well, if memory serves, John Cena did prevail that night, but the crowd did not riot as previously cited. I do not doubt that John Cena probably had some concerns in leaving the arena that night, but all in all, he survived to wrestle in the years since. No harm, no foul.

Fast forward to 2011. Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada. A city who just a year prior, gained worldwide praise in how it displayed nothing more than class and honour, when it hosted the 2010 Winter Olympic Games, became a primal beast when their beloved Stanley Cup hopefuls fell short of the ultimate prize, losing Game 7 of the finals to the Boston Bruins, by a score of 4 - 0.

As the distraught crowds emptied General Motors Place, and entered the streets, havoc and mayhem soon followed. At some point, when I, myself was making smart-ass remarks and jabs at the mammoth loss of the Canucks, adding a comment of "At least Canadians are classy in that they won't riot like Europeans do after a gay-ass soccer game!" I bet it was no more than 15 minutes that passed before I caught the first glimpse of I-Phone videos hitting the internet, disproving that very comment.

Did Vancouver deserve to lose the Cup? You bet your ass they did. They played like shit in the last few games. Did the Boston Bruins deserve to win Lord Stanley's Cup? You're god damned right they did. I'm not a Bruins fan, but I do respect athleticism, and they were the superior team. Hands down!

So was the riot a spur-of-the-moment bad decision for those who participated? Perhaps for some. But for others, it was premeditated. In many of the videos I've seen on television and in the media, there were rioters donning ski masks. Wool caps, pulled down over their faces to retain anonymity.

There are those who may argue that "It's Canada, and these people probably had the wool caps with them to keep warm." For those speculators, I say, "Grab a f*ckin' brain, and don't be stupid!!!" The southern border of Canada, is NOT lined with snow and ice, and despite Canada having the moniker, "The Great White North", we aren't actually. In fact, I don't think it even snows all that often in Vancouver, to tell the honest truth.

So that being said. It's June. It's warm in the evenings. And Joe Schmoe is wearing a f*cking ski mask. Any way you look at it, some shit is about to go down. Either someone's going to get robbed or there's going to be some shenanigans on the go.

In the end, a few dumb f*cks put a blemish on Canada's global image. On one hand, it's kinda nice to shed that "goody two-shoes" image that everyone thinks we have, but on the other hand, it sucks to have people the world over look at us as inbred retards!!!

For a moment or two, I lost all pride in what it is to be Canadian. That's something that I've been proud of for quite some time, and I lost it for a moment. But that moment has past and in my daily life now, through work, I have the opportunity to speak to many Americans, who this week, have all commented on the Vancouver riots. And best of all, I've been able to comment right along side of them, on the idiocy that it was.

The Trophy

At sometime during the last week of October 2010, I noticed that some (presumably) kids tossed a pumpkin of respectable size up on a road sign, just down the street from my house. "Why would someone do something so stupid?" I thought to myself everyday, as I passed by the spectacle on my way to work.

Soon autumn turned to winter and the ground was blanketed with snow, and still this pumpkin was stuck to the top of the road sign. Weeks before I'd noticed that a second pumpkin was placed on another sign, up the road, closer to my house and on the opposite side of the street. I doubted that it was placed there by the same mischievous teen, as it lacked the same style and conviction as it's predecessor. That one failed to possess the longevity that the first had and fell from it's perch when the mercury fell below freezing. However, the first pumpkin, continued to hold tough.

The winter months passed late in the spring, and still the pumpkin continued to stay atop it's mount, overlooking the street, almost like an appointed protector. It's orange skin, now bleached white from the constant exposure to the sun and elements.

Here we are now, mid-June, and still the pumpkin continues to stay. City workers have passed it by many times, when mowing the grass on the meridian or cleaning the streets. And although I was bothered by it's presence in the beginning, I've found myself looking forward to viewing it every morning as I pass by it on my way to work. I now view it as a term of endearment, and often wonder if the young bloke who placed it atop that street sign, looks upon it with the same pride as I've come to do.

I don't look upon it as an eye sore anymore, but more so as a trophy. It reminds me of one of my life long goals. It seems silly to admit, but I've always wanted to go to Stonehenge in Scotland. Not to view it as a historical enigma, but I wanted to defile the sacred ground of the site by having "relations" with a female. Not sure who, exactly. I suppose a local waif would be fine, although I believe it'd be better to share an experience like that with a girlfriend, fiance or (who knows) someday maybe a wife. Then we could look at pictures of Stonehenge from that day forth, and relive the experience and memory with a sly wink and a smile. A personal trophy, so-to-speak.

It'd be great to look at a photograph and while others ooh and aah in wonderment at it's mysteries, me and "the mrs" would know a completely different secret that the stone megaliths silently hold.

Maybe that's a little different from what the kid who spiked the pumpkin might be thinking, but the one commonality is: "I did that!"

Heroine's Big Comeback

At first glance, I thought she was going to be another big-screen telling of a comic book hero, though a promising idea on paper, would most likely nose dive into the toilet just as Halle Berry's Catwoman did back in '04. However, I've now learned that this non-caped crusader, is making her leap onto the small screen.

Just as Linda Carter appeared on television for three seasons in the latter half of the 70's, the former "Friday Night Lights" star will be donning the golden lasso and patriotic uniform of the Amazonian princess formally known as Wonder Woman. And while Carter's sexy curves and 38C's managed to captivate audiences for three seasons, I doubt that the stunningly beautiful Adrainne Palicki will be greeted with the same success.

After all, this IS just Wonder Woman. A woman whose disguise is as clever as that of Superman, a pair of glasses, a flashy superhero she is not. Although, in my humble opinion, when she dons her hero outfit, I doubt that many men would be looking her in the eyes anyway, so perhaps a pair of unattractive bifocals may be just the disguise she needs. I can't explain why that works for a bumbling fool like Clark Kent. Perhaps Metropolis is simply full of idiots. I really cannot say.

I'm not at all saying that women can't be heroic. Quite the contrary. I'm saying that given the super-abilities, Wonder Woman is freakin' boring. She flies an invisible plane, which prompts me to ask, "How the hell does she find where it's parked?" But she also has a golden lasso. Ooh, a yellow rope. Whoop-de-frickin'-doo. And bracelets that can deflect bullets. I'm beginning to believe that dressing like a tramp is the only way Wonder Woman can distract criminals. It's everything I can do to continue writing this piece. I've had to pause twice to remember what I was speaking about. So anyway, the guy in the car yells at me and.... Oh crap!!! I've lost focus again!

I've read today that famed director and producer McG has possibly attached himself to the project slated to enter NBC's 2011 fall line-up. McG is the creative genius behind big screen hits like the "Charlie's Angels" movies, "We Are Marshall" starring Matthew McConaughey, and "Terminator: Salvation" with Christian Bale. Not to mention he's had his hand in some of TV's successes too, like "Chuck", "Human Target" and "Supernatural". So perhaps with McG involved, Wonder Woman may have some success... But I doubt it.

It's quite possible that with McG involved, the television series may take on a certain look. Lord knows, the man has a unique eye, especially when it comes to action sequences. However, I doubt that Wonder Woman will have the panache needed to make it survive on television. Granted the original TV series lasted three seasons, and I'll go out on a limb to say that much of that was due to men lewdly leering at Linda Carter's exposed cleavage. I doubt it was the action or the story-lines, granted that this was the late 70's and there were only three (U.S.) channels to watch (only two in Canada, unless you include the French-speaking station). However, today there are how many alternative television channels to entertain the masses? Plus, DVD's, Blu-rays, Pay-Per-View, Internet, and countless other modes of entertainment. Not to mention the pornography that is readily available to occupy the minds of those who in the 70's would've tuned into the original series.

I really like Adrianne Palicki as an actress. I enjoyed her on "Friday Night Lights" for the two seasons that I actually watched the program, not to mention her brief stint on episode one of "Supernatural", as well as her appearance in last years film, "Legion". Unfortunately, I don't think she's going to have the clout to keep this television series on TV.

Anyone who misses this series in the fall, I suggest looking for the Complete Series on DVD when it hits the bargain bin at Wal-Mart, probably right around Christmas.

It NOT Too Rate, It Simper Math!!

I'd finally had enough of my cell phone shutting off without reason, so I went to the mall today to find me a new one. I did find one, renewed my contract and like it for the most part, if only I could get the frickin' thing to mesh up with my home wi-fi so I can search out some less gay ringtones.

In addition to my problematic telephone, I also remembered to purchase my mom a Mother's Day card. I'm taking her golfing tomorrow then out for a delightful lunch. Hopefully, she won't drive me crazy in the duration. An avid reader, I purchased a nice bookmark in addition to the card. The grand total came out to $12.08, and I handed the little asian girl behind the counter, who was training an older woman who looked old enough to be my grandmother on how to use the register. They'd already keyed in the $20 when I chimed in that I had 8 cents.

"Oh it too rate." the little asian girl said, to which I replied, "So what?"

"I'll give you eight cents, then you give me and even eight dollars back."

"Oh no. It too rate." she repeated in her painfully thick accent.

Even grandma served up an "It's too late, sir. The money's already entered into the till."

"Well," I said, "I gave you eight cents, so you can give me an even $8.oo back."

"But it's too rate..." the little asian girl said once more.

"It's too late," the blue-haired woman said in unison, "The register is already open."

"So what?" I repeated, "It's simple math! $7.92 plus 8 cents, equals eight bucks!"

"Math is universal. It's the same all over the world. Actually, it's the same throughout the entire universe." I emphasized, disbelieving that I had to give a simple math lesson to two employees who dealt with money all day long.

I know it seems a little retarded to take a stand on a measily eight cents, but Jesus Christ. I wouldn't have made such a big deal, had the two of them not been f*cking idiots to begin with. I mean for Christ's sake, I thought Asians were especially good at mathematics? Laundry and math, I could've swore they were proficient with.

Finally the manager lady comes over to see what the matter was. "This man's change is $7.92 and he wants to give us eight cents so he can get..."

"Eight dollars back!" the manager interupted, "So? What's the problem?"

"We already rung the transaction through." Grandma said. At which, to my personal delight, the manager replied, "So? It's simple math!"