Christmas in the NOW

Feliz Navidad, my fellow blogomaniacs!

That Blogging Bastard is here after taking a hiatus that was both as long as it was inexcusable. Apparently, I was so hard at work pouring drinks for the ultra rich at the Royal York that I didn't realize that nearly TWO months passed since my last entry. What the shit?!? It feels like only yesterday I was promising Girls Pt.2 and a more regular blogging schedule. Where did all the time go? Why, the answer is simple my friends.

Time is a relative concept conceived by the human mind. With constant distraction its confines become elastic like a bag made of rubber. Without concentrating on the NOW, we tend to let time move at a more rapid pace, for we are not taking stock in the events that are transpiring right before our eyes. Through a stronger understanding and observation of the NOW, by staying PRESENT in the given moment, we can fully appreciate times constant flow and thus have a greater awareness of where we sit in the grand scheme of things.

I'm sorry. Ever since I became a follower of Depak Chopra on Twitter, I have a tendency to fall into philosophical musings that are so opaque that only I can decipher them. And even then, I've got to make my mind elastic with drugs to fully make sense of it. Go ahead, smoke a joint and re-read what I just wrote. Still nothing? How good is your pot? Well, whatever. I'm still publishing it in a book and selling it for $24.99. I'm sure with some nice illustrations of flowers and a couple computer-generated psychedelic images, it will sit nicely on a Starbucks counter next to Cd's of Annie Lennox and Paul McCartney. Perhaps they will even offer it in a combo package with a bag of dark roast or a box of Cranium. This encapsulates the extraordinary vision I have for my future.

Regardless of my theories on time, I am back and I am blogging. Being laid off until March will probably make regular entries a whole lot easier, and I promise to keep reference to my crushing poverty to an absolute minimum.

I type this as I sit at my grandmothers computer in Buffalo, New York which if I recall correctly was the seventh stage of hell as told by Dante's Inferno. I am happy to announce that I am now the proud owner of a Buffalo Bills leather jacket, given to me simply because it did not fit my grandfather. No, I have no intention of wearing it, but I suspect strongly that in a few years time when the Bills move permanently to Toronto it will be something I will want to rock, it being a throwback to a time when NFL football was still bringing joy to this tiny slum town. (I'm a sucker for brandishing clothes that contain images of things that no longer exist) Either that or I'll put it on whenever I am in need of making myself instantly unattractive to woman. I do however worry that if I am ever caught wearing it while holding a Toronto Sun, I'll be mistaken for a supporter of Rob Ford. You know what, it's best I just burn it upon completing this blog entry.

Now you no doubt wonder what would ever bring me to Buffalo, New York in the first place. Well first of all, its the hometown of my mother and still contains a gaggle of my favorite family members. And it's CHRISTMAS! Well at least it was Christmas. Now its just boxing day. But for me, who worked on Christmas (gak), it's as close as I'm going to get to something resembling holly jolly. Yes my sexy readers, the holidays are upon us like a hungry pack of jackals, showering us with corny music, excessive feasts and panicked days of shopping. Even now, I write this with a stomach sick of sugar and the Sound of Music playing in the background which, if I was to hold someone hostage ,would be the soundtrack I'd put on while trying to ply them for information on the holding place of the ancient gems I seek. "These Are a Few of My Favorite Things" would be an excellent song to have playing while revealing instruments of torture and "Goodbye, Farewell" would prove very intimidating before threatening death.

(I always contended I would make a really a great Bond villain. I love stroking cats, I have very bushy eyebrows and I pre-set my muscial selections before sessions of torture. Of course, this is all a pipe dream now as I work towards being a featured artist at Starbucks. Best I let my book of philosophical musings and Annie Lennox's vocals do the torturing.)

Where was I?

Oh yes! CHRISTMAS! Oh glorious of days! Oh happiest of festivals! Oh great economic stimulant! Oh happy holy harvest of hope! Can you imagine if Jesus had a
Facebook profile? You think you have a lot of bday wishes on your wall? That guys shit would crash the site. Jesus wouldn't be blamed for his popularity though, he's a pretty swell guy. They'd probably end up blaming it on hackers who did it because they are pissed off about wiki leaks being muzzled. (Spoiler Alert! America is engaged in dirty politics. Now you know.)

So it's Christmas, I'm in Buffalo and I have a deeper understanding of time and space due to my passing electronic acquaintance with Depak Chopra. All in all it could be worse. My Christmas haul was a little light this year, which is fine by me, as I have enough crap clogging up my apartment as it is. My father got me a sweater, a Secret Wars T-shirt, a He-Man DVD and THREE action figures of Wolverine. One of them was a give away from Burger King, the other two were molds of Hugh Jackman, one in standard 6" and the other deluxe sized. Ironically, flashback to Christmas two decades ago and you'd find my father buying me very similar gifts (minus Hugh Jackman). I need to start acting my age I guess. Or maybe I've gone back in time due to a Temporal Paradox, a tear in the fabric of space/time! Let me explain:

You see, time is a continuum that is best visualized as a looping string where we are located on two separate axises....whoa whoa whoa! I just realized if I continue explaining time and space, you aren't going to buy my book.
Nice try, you cheap bastards! Go pick up a Venti Pumpkin Spice Latte if you want enlightenment!

My mother did me a solid and decided to give me cold, hard cash. This is my favorite gift, since it allows me the ability to buy my own crap that I don't need. Crap you don't need is always better when you are the architect of its purchase. My mom did keep the tradition of stuffing me a stocking though and I am now the proud owner of a slinky, socks and enough Lindt Chocolate to kill a diabetic child. Not that I would ever do that. I prefer healthy children, its more sporting. (anything to get those gems! Bwahahaha!)

Geez, I just reread this entry. Ok, serious time.

Christmas is here and even with all the warm wishes and a brand new slinky, I was suffering earlier from a severe and gnawing loneliness. It started on Christmas eve upon returning home from my uncle's annual holiday gathering. I sat by the window alone listening to Flying Lotus and looked down at the empty streets and for some reason felt like I was an extension of those streets. That night was spent lying very awake as I wondered why I was feeling so tense. Upon reflection, I can say that much of that nights malaise was brought on by the extreme indigestion cause by a shrimp ring, hot wings, pizza, a smattering of cheese, wine, beer, courvoisier, chocolate, coffee, pineapple and pistachio nuts. Even listing that gives me gas.

Then Christmas came proper. I woke up alone in my house and realized that it had been a great many years since I woke up on Christmas day excited. And why was I ever excited in the first place? It wasn't Jesus's Bday, or seeing family, or eating a Germany's worth of chocolate; it was a ravenous desire for gifts. Now that I am aware of economic realities, I just feel guilty. Guilty that I can never afford good gifts for the people I love, and guilty that the people I love spend money on me when I know they can't afford it either. And so from there I went to work and sat in the back of the Imperial room, making Shirley Temples for rambunctious children. The shift was super boring, and outside of the occasional "Merry Christmas", nothing made the day seem any different from any other day. The same people, the same tired looking eyes, the same platters of cheese and fruit. As boredom seeped uniformly from the top of my skull to the tips of my toes, I decided to see what was happening inside the Christmas buffet. Stepping out into the grand ballroom, I watched children squeal with delight as a man in a Santa Suit made animal balloons and carols played on the overhead speakers. It was in this moment that I realized that Christmas was no longer for me specifically, but about creating myths and joy in our children, reminding the people we love that we still care and reflecting on the end of another year gone by. I think a part of me always wished to recall that excitement I felt as a child, and that being impossible, continued to get disappointed in my inability to capture that feeling again. But the time has come to let that go. It's up to me now to spread that excitement in others, to remind people that I love them and to start focusing on what was gained and lost in passing year.
And so with great excitement I anticipated travelling with my mother to Buffalo, hugging my grandparents and focusing on being there for the people I love.

Which brings us back to the PRESENT that you'll discover , if you buy my book, is something that we should all be focusing on. Because if you don't focus on the NOW, you might find yourself on your grandmother's computer scratching your head wondering how two months went by without a single blog entry. Time is elastic you see.

But I digress. Just buy the fucking book.

Happy Holidays Everyone.

That Blogging Bastard

P.S. I swear to God that I will write Girls Pt. 2 next. If I don't, you can have my Hugh Jackman deluxe action figure. Its ok, I have two more.