Sunday chat with Dad

Hey Dad... I got a question, "what's the deal with Africa and by extension, those of African descent around the world?" Africa is a mess. One would think that the continent is cursed. Genocides, mass rapes, widespread diseases, AIDS pandemics, human rights abuses, tribal and regional conflicts, child exploitation (sexual, as well as kidnappings), religious intolerance, political instability, political corruption, resource exploitation, environmental disasters, floods, drought, starvation, poverty, etc. The turmoils within Zimbabwe, Kenya, South Africa, Uganda, Rwanda, D.R.Congo, Burundi, Ivory Coast, Sudan, Somalia, Gabon, Nigeria, Togo, Guinea-Bissau... and lately Tunisia and Egypt!

Then there's Haiti. Earthquakes, hurricanes, disease, rapes, murders, kidnappings, staggering poverty, political coups, colonial exploitation, etc... and if all this wasn't bad enough, Baby Doc Duvalier, the sadistic tyrant who was overthrown in 1986, has returned to the country to help! Talk about kicking someone while they're down! It makes me wonder if Pat Robertson was right when he stated a year ago after the earthquake, that you had indeed cursed the country because it had made a pact with the devil.

Then there's the constant struggles, trials and tribulations of those of African descent living in Europe, North America, Central America, South America and the Carribbean. Similar issues as what's happening in Africa and Haiti... although at a lesser extent... but just as traumatic!

As a people are we cursed!? If we are, what did we do to deserve all this? If we're not, then what's the deal? Is this a Job type situation you're putting us through? Whatever the case... we've had enough! We need your grace and mercy!    

sat'day riddymz

I read a review on the new R. Kelly albumn "Love Letters" which claimed it was his best work in years. It was officially released last December 2010. I hadn't even heard of it and I'm a big Robert fan, although I was extremely disappointed in his sex tape fiasco with underage girls a few years back. I have to admit I've been conflicted about him since then, because I love his music and I consider him to be a gifted song writer in the same vein of a Marvin Gaye. However, no doubt he used his celebrity status to take advantage of young impressionable girls.

The reviewer stated this it was his most "adult" work in years. I took a listen and was very impressed. It has that cool vintage R&B sound throughout, with classy love themes as opposed to the oversexed, raunchy and immature themes of his previous works. Can someone explain "Trapped in the closet" to me please!? Anywayzzz...         

99 problems but looking old ain't one

My wife and I were discussing the other day that this year I'll be 50 and she'll be 40. She commented that I looked like I'm in my late 30's. She then asked me how old she looks. "You definitely could pass for late 30's too", I answered. She wasn't amused. I then stated that since we both look like we're in our late 30's, that means we're the perfect looking couple. She still didn't find me charming.

Back in the day when I first started working out, I did very little cardio. It was all about lifting weights. In a 3 hour workout, I'd do maybe 20-30 minutes of cardio. I wasn't a muscle-head though. I wasn't one of those guys who would do lift massive amounts of weight, grunt and scream, then throw the weight down and run to the closest mirror to flex.

As I got older, I started doing more cardio to the point where it was almost 50% of my workout. 5 years ago I bought a bicycle. Ottawa has numerous and well maintained bike paths throughout the city, so I took advantage of them from the Spring to the Fall and would do 2-5 hour excursions around the city. I would also ride to the gym and back home as part of my cardio exercise for that day. Not only was I staying trim and fit, but I got to explore the city, discovering some of the more interesting tucked away sceneries and parkettes that I would never have known about.

Last year I started doing the RPM (Raw Power in Motion) spin class. It's 50 minutes of intense indoor stationary cycling, consisting of sprints, mixed terrain and hill climb stages. The first time I tacked it, it kicked my azzz! I decided to start my workout with this programme, then lift weights for another hour to an hour and a half. I did this 2-3 times a week, unless I rode my bike to the gym, or did a 20 minute run on the treadmill, followed by 10 minutes on the rowing machine for a bit of variety.

Somehow I ended up hurting my shoulder, so I couldn't lift any weights at all for months while I did physiotherapy. My physiotherapist felt that I had probably injured my shoulder over time by lifting too much weight, combined with bad technique. Then he said something to me which was like a punch in the gut: "as you get older, you can't lift as heavy and it's easier to get injured if your technique is bad..." The "as you get older" part of that discussion was what got to me. I wasn't getting older... I mean I was but I don't feel it... well I do sometimes... most times... my God I am getting older!

Once I started lifting again, I did less weight, more reps, focusing more on my technique. Last December, I started a mixed aerobic, weight-lifting class called BodyPump. It's an hour long intense workout which strengthens and tones your whole body. The first time I tacked it, it kicked my azzz! I now do the RPM class followed right after by the BodyPump class, 3-4 times a week.

I remember when I was much younger, I would make fun of the guys doing the aerobic classes. Now that I'm one of them... I feel great, have more stamina, look younger than my age... and make fun of those guys lifting all that weight...

Sunday chat with Dad

Hey Dad, long time no speak. I have no excuse 'cause you're always available to chat. I get so caught up with my life that although I know you're there, I forget sometimes to take a moment to connect with you.

It's sad when you really think about it. I have my daily routines all scheduled... time to wake up, get the boy off to daycare (or to sports on the weekends), get to work, my coffee and lunch breaks, my meetings, my gym time, dinnertime, family time, bath time for the boy, story time, tv time, personal time, date night, time for friends, church time, bed time, etc. Then I do it all over again, day after day, week after week, month after month, year after year. In the moment, each activity appears to be the priority, so I very often forget, or worse, neglect our time... together.

So let me begin... by not saying "sorry"... but by saying "thank you"... thank you for not forgetting about me... thank you for looking out for me... thank you for caring and providing for me and my family... thank you for health and strength... thank you for peace of mind... thank you for a loving wife... thank you for a healthy, energetic son... thank you for bringing good people into my life... thank you for my job... thank you for loving me as I am... thank you for right now.

I know it's not your style to put pressure on me to promise to do better. But you do expect me to do better... be better... day by day.

It's the wish of every son to make his Dad proud.

It's the wish of every Dad to have a moment to chat with his son.

The Jazz Melodies Of My Mind

I enjoy writing. I also enjoy reading other people's blogs. Sometimes I have an abundance of ideas of what I want to write about. Thoughts, ideas and feelings that I am bursting to share. However, lately it has taken me a while to come up with something of interest to impart. Lots of contemplating. Lots of reassessing. I have been spending time reading the select few bloggers that I find interesting. Their topics are varied. Their backgrounds diverse. Their styles of expression are very individual. Their opinions, beliefs, values and viewpoints are distinct. Some I agree with. Some I don't. But that's not the point. What matters most is that they are all committed to what they believe. The passion in their words captivates my attention. Yet as they write.... and comment.... and rebut.... they grow. I experience the process of their metamorphosis as they spur my own transmutation. I am an information junkie. It's like an addiction. An obsession. So I spend a lot of my time surfing through various blog, news, political, cultural and religious sites. I watch news programs and documentaries. I read journals, magazines, books, the Bible. I attend church regularly, engage others in discussions, debates and share ideas on a wide variety of subjects. I am on a continuous quest to take a sip from that "Holy Grail" of information, knowledge and wisdom. Yes.... I am a nerd! lol. Sometimes I feel that I have squandered lots of valuable time on this journey.... until I discover and taste that rare nectar which briefly quenches the thirst.... that causes me to go "hmmmmm".... then "awwww".... that stirs the spirit within me and I get enthused to create.... to write....

I find that writing is like playing the piano. I get an inspiration, a vibe wells up within me, I hit the keys and begin to compose the notes.... sounds.... melodies.... arrangements.... songs.... in an effort to transform the voices of my being into life. It's a painstaking process. I edit. I revise. I delete. I mix and match. I grasp and struggle to find my rhythm. Once I am done.... I am exhausted.... I am never satisfied.... yet there is an indescribable joy as I look upon my new birth. I reluctantly share my various opuses with the world.... but they aren't listened to by the ear.... they are welcomed through the portals of the eyes and entertained by the mind of the recipient.... and subsequently translated by the tones and rhythms of their own virtues, beliefs, values, experiences and emotions. I play and I wonder if others are moved by my creative endeavours. Not that I am writing to gain the approval of the audience.... but if you are creative.... you want your creations to be enjoyed, dare I even say, "appreciated". I am driven to continue searching.... playing.... developing.... creating.... growing.... changing.... striking the keys to unearth and discover my own unique style and rhythm, so as to continue expressing the jazzy melodies of my mind.

sat'day riddymz