Showing posts with label Ranting and Raving. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ranting and Raving. Show all posts

Monday, November 7, 2011

Patience for the patient

This'll be a quickie, because there's too much going on today.  But, for my own sanity, and the safety of my dear hubby, I do need to take a few minutes...

You see, he popped a fever over the weekend.  After going through the checklist with the emerg nurse, we realized it was nothing to do with his surgery or any sort of infection, he'd probably just picked something up from one of his visitors.  A relief, to be sure, but...

OK, call me horribly sexist, but there's something about the combination of fever and Y-chromosome that is NEVER a good thing.  It seems to produce sucky baby at the best of times, and this is not the best of times.

The man was stoic through major surgery, hospitalization, sutures, staple removal, catheterization... and now give him a tiny fever and I JUST WANT TO SMACK HIM UPSIDE THE HEAD!!!

The man who wanted to get out of bed immediately post-surgery so I could have a nap now feels the need to call me downstairs in a panic because he needs a glass of water -- and I find him standing directly between the glass and the water source, thereby having to move him from between the two to provide him with the desired clear beverage.  SERIOUSLY?!?

After over a week of playing nurse (and not in a fun way), doing all the errands, shopping, cooking, cleaning, lifting, catheter bag tending, scrubbing down bedroom and bathroom from catheter bag going awry, washing untold loads of urine-soaked sheets, towels and clothes... and now a weekend of holding the barf bowl, cleaning the barf bowl, calling nurses and wiping fevered brow and getting maybe a total of 3 hours sleep because every time he wakes up and remembers he's sick he lets out a ginormous sigh and moan until I wake up and ask him what's wrong and he says nothing... THEN he's complaining about the messy state of the KITCHEN?!?!?

Where's my frikken' gun?!?!?!?   !!!!!!!!!!!!

OK, I know I'm not supposed to use this blog purely for ranting, I'm supposed to come up with some humanistic solution that helps all the readers and will make the world a better place, right?  OK, so...

Yes, this whole Movember thing is lovely, and all the folks who have mentioned Don in their pledges have been much appreciated.

BUT if you REALLY want to do a good deed for men's health (and the women who love them), how be we all chip in for some research in to the Y-chromosome and FEVERS?

If there is a doctor on this planet who can find the cure for the male fever -- or at least get rid of the damned symptoms -- I would give my first-born child.  You're right, I haven't given birth.  But I would turkey-baste myself this very day if it would help cure the feverish baby males of the world.  :-)

Incidentally, I also have a fever.  Yet, as a possessor of a perfectly intact pair of X-chromosomes, I am still somehow perfectly capable of taking care of both myself and my feverish victim of testosterone poisoning (my 3rd year male psych prof's term, not mine), and of pouring both of us glasses of water, without sighing moaning or whining.

Ranting, perhaps.  ;-)

I will be patient I will be kind I will not dump the barf bowl in his underwear drawer I will be patient I will be kind I will not empty his catheter bag into a glass and pretend it's flat ginger ale I will be patient I will be kind I will not allow myself near sharp objects I will be patient I will be kind...

Thanks for letting me vent -- you've probably saved a life (or at least a marriage) today.  :-)
Alyssa

Thursday, October 20, 2011

Now what?

Geez, you commit to getting back into a daily blog, and then you actually have to write one, don't you?

Now what?

The first answer to that question was sleep in until noon and have apple pie for breakfast.  Followed up with cursing myself for not completing eleven projects by 2pm.  See?  The world of Lyssy has not really changed that much, other than the pie...

But change it shall.  A chapter has closed, so something is going to come in to fill the void -- I'm the one who chooses what gets in.  So the next question becomes, what do I want to be when I grow up?


Stay Calm
Be Brave
Wait For the Signs
                              - Dead Dog Cafe (CBC)


Over dinner last night, Don and I were chatting about our recent experience at the OCFF conference in Niagara Falls, and what each of us got from it.  We had both, apparently, come to similar conclusions about a few things.  Namely, our discomfort at the desperation felt in some of the private showcase rooms, plus the (unfortunately, rather large) group of people who were simply bitter that the world had yet to discover them, even though they hadn't done a damned thing to further their careers other than sit and bitch with other undiscovered people.

Oh sure, there are the Justin Biebers of the world, but even then, his mother promoted the hell out of him.  The folks who have actually "made it" in the folk world (and become "hundredaires", as Don says) are the ones who not only have incredible talent, but who have worked their arses off.  They didn't sit around and bitch and expect the world handed to them on a silver platter.

I mean, take Dave Gunning, who was recently nominated for the CFMA's "Emerging Artist of the Year" award.  Are you kidding me?  This man's first CD was released in 1996, and he's finally being welcomed as a newcomer.  He's not an instant discovery, he's worked and worked and worked -- and it doesn't hurt that he's a great songwriter, but he's a great songwriter who has worked and worked and worked (at both his music and his business).

I was in a funding workshop at OCFF, and one of the panelists asked the group how many had applied for funding before?  Big show of hands.  How many had been rejected?  Fairly large show of hands.  How many had re-applied?  Embarrassingly small show of hands.  So... someone doesn't give you what you want (depending on what you're applying for, you're in the same boat with 70-95% of the applicants), you stop asking, and then you complain that nobody funds you?

Can you imagine that with any other job?  I mean, seriously, if everyone gave up trying after their first job interview, it would be a national disaster!  And if they all sat around in the coffee shop whining that they were unemployed, somebody would smack them.  (Maybe me...)

As happens every year, there are private showcases in the hotel rooms -- folks split the expense of the room to do a 30-minute-or-whatever showcase, in the hopes that people will listen to their set and hire them.  As happens every year, there's a handful of complainers who come out to say it's a waste of money and the OCFF is trying to swindle them out of their cash, because nobody's ever hired them from the previous year's showcase.

Well, yeah... maybe because the sound of your whining was drowning out the music.  (Oops, was that my outside voice?)

Or maybe you didn't do anything to follow up.  Or maybe you didn't fit in to their programming.  Or maybe you aren't as insanely awesome as you and your cats think you are.  Or maybe a 20-minute showcase does not a career make...

You know that line about 10% inspiration and 90% perspiration?  Well guess what -- if all you've got is the inspiration, that's not enough.  Nobody else is going to put in the 90% for you if you're not willing to put it in for yourself.  And if you're not willing to put forth the effort, don't go complaining that nobody else has done it for you.

Geez, how did this turn into a rant?  I had a whole other idea when I started...

Both of our favourite part took place in the wee hours of Sunday morning (and by "wee hours," I mean just before sunrise), jamming in the Tunesmiths' room with folks like David Ross MacDonald, Scott Cook, Jesse Dee and Jacquie B, the aforementioned Dave Gunning, Ann Vriend, Dave Borins, Jadea Kelly, and a whole slough of others whose names I didn't catch.  Not a whiner in the bunch, all go-getters making it happen.  Despite the time and level of inebriation, the music in that room was incredible, the musicians sensitive in their accompaniment, the mood jovial and community-oriented.  It was all about the music.  Maybe they'll get a gig out of that room, maybe they won't.  It's not about the room, it's about the music, it's about the community.  And yes, there's a reason why you've heard of many of those folks -- if you don't know some of them, trust me, you will.  Better yet, follow those links and take a listen.

So... getting back to today -- where do I want to put my 90% perspiration?  Once the long sleeps and pie and surgery are over, that is.

In some ways, Don's surgery is providing both of us with a much-needed oasis in time.  We have a darned good reason for saying "no" for the next few months.  (OK, his excuse is better, but I'm taking it, anyhow!)  An enforced hibernation period, when we can both figure out where we want to go, who we want to be, what we want to do, once we can stretch and yawn and go forth.

For me, it's the end of a chapter that has taken up much of my spare (?!?) time and kept me in survival mode for far too long.  For Don, it's this sudden reminder of our mortality, and the need to live our lives before we don't have a choice anymore.

As our friend Ali had on her FB status update the other day: life isn't wrapped up in a bow, but it's still a gift.

As I replied:  you just have to say "thank you" and figure out what you're going to do with it.

I am so very thankful for this gift, for where I am today, where we are today.  I am not going to look that horse in the mouth and complain it's not as perfect as it should be.  I'm not going to hide it in the basement and hope I get something better next year.  I'm going to take it and run with it and enjoy every moment I have with it.

It may not be wrapped up in a bow, but it's the only thing that's truly mine.  I am responsible for every opportunity I've missed, and every opportunity I've created.  I am responsible for every choice I've made, and every decision I've avoided.

As I started singing in January, 2009:
I have cleared the space, it's time to take my place
Prepare to speak my truth, stand up and be the proof 
The war will carry on between the sword and the wand
And I'll keep the rewards I've gained
All advance, no retreat, peel away the conceit
Until only the Truth remains 
Truth remains
Time for some hibernating and soul-searching and truth-finding.  Followed by some making it all happen.

But first, I think I'll have another slice of pie...

Saturday, February 12, 2011

Life and Living and Leaping

Hello all,

Yes, it's been a long time since I've written here -- life has been rather full this past year, of course, but I wonder if some other forces have been at work, as I've had a "dry spell" in all my writing and other creative ventures.  It was suggested to me earlier in the week that these plateaus, road blocks, or whatever you choose to call them, are simply "enforced resting periods."  I can definitely see that in my world... what we refuse to provide for ourselves, the universe provides in weird and wonderful ways.

Like this past month, for instance.  One month ago yesterday, I almost died.  In rather dramatic fashion.  Having spent a few years living with the cancer worry floating around in the back of my head -- but not being able to convince anyone in the medical profession to take my concerns seriously -- the kitten-sized tumour (that was supposedly non-existant) decided to make her presence blatantly obvious by making a break for freedom.  I named her "Big Ethyl", and am, in a twisted sort of way, rather proud of her determination to be acknowledged.

How many times have we had to fight to be heard?  Or recognized?  Or even noticed to exist?  And when it doesn't happen, how many of us have then turned that against ourselves and decided that we aren't worth hearing, haven't done anything worth recognizing, and maybe shouldn't even exist?  So we deny, repress, deny, repress, until -- like Big Ethyl -- something explodes and paints the walls a big, bloody mess that can no longer be ignored, no matter how hard everyone tries.

That, my friends, is my life story in a nutshell.  The big, bloody messes haven't always been so... well, big and bloody, though I can see metaphorical echoes (pre-echoes?) of Big Ethyl in so many points along my journey.

I keep telling people how lucky I was that Big Ethyl exploded when she did -- when I live a mere two blocks from the emergency ward, when I have my beloved to look after me when I can no longer stand on my own, when we weren't on an airplane or driving through the Rockies.  But her timing was so perfect in many other ways as well.  I needed this reminder that I deserve to be heard, and recognized, and to exist.  I had been slipping back into old patterns of putting everyone and everything else first, and not looking after myself -- or even acknowledging my own existence or basic needs.

To such a ridiculous extent that Don practically had to DRAG me to Emerg as I protested that I was fine and didn't want to be too much of a bother, they had more pressing cases to deal with.  And then woke up the morning between Big Ethyl's Great Escape and the surgery to complete her quest thinking I should really get out of bed and spend my down-time doing some chores (not a good idea, as I discovered when I realized that losing half your haemoglobin makes standing up to brush your teeth a rather tricky endeavour...).  And then took my laptop to bed, so I could still make sure the Orillia Folk Society's upcoming concert went off without a hitch, and sneak in some PR work.  And gave myself guilt trips for cancelling my students that week, until I convinced myself they might be grossed out by the carnage.  OK, so it took a few days for me to fully absorb Big Ethyl's message, but I eventually got it!

Flash forward to this week, having recovered from a successful surgery, when I actually AM driving through the Rockies (or about to), surrounded by beauty -- the landscape, the people we've met, the music, the ideas.  Don and I have just spent a week in a creativity workshop with Victor Wooten on Gabriola Island, BC, and enjoyed an incredible solo concert -- solo, that is, until he invited me and four others to sit in with him on a song.  Yes, people, I just played a concert with Victor Wooten.  Which would be incredibly cool at any time, but when it happens on the anniversary (monthiversary?) of my near-death, "HOLY CRAP!!!" is about as articulate as I can get.

Not only that, but I did a mighty fine job at it!  Not only did I "not suck", I was really quite good.  Victor kept telling me how beautiful my solo was, and used me as an example to the group the next morning, saying I was "a virtuoso" (referring to my "Both Sides Now" arrangement he had heard earlier in the week) on my instrument, but could get into the music and forsake virtuosity for the feel, and to support the others on stage with me, which was a goal to which we all needed to aspire.

And, let me tell you, the Old Me is twisting and turning and shouting inside me and trying her damndest to prevent me from writing that above paragraph.  "Be small!", she's shouting, "you're not being small enough!  The world is about to end!!!"

Maybe, maybe not.  Maybe it's a world that needs to end.

Thursday night after the concert, I was brazen enough to post on FaceBook that "I might have kicked a wee bit of ass tonight."  You can only imagine how much the Old Me punished myself for that in the following 24 hours.  She actually tried to get me to erase that post, but someone had already responded (thanks, paul!), so I didn't feel it was right.  And it wouldn't have been right, anyway.

Yes, I kicked ass.  Yes, one of the most creative and innovative musicians around thinks I'm good.  Yes, I should make myself a flashing neon sign that says "I kick ass and I'm damned good!"  Yes, I should feel proud of myself -- it's taken 40 years of work to get to where I am today, not just musically but in my life in general.  My life is awesome.  Sure, much of that awesomeness comes from sheer good luck (I was born in Canada, fer cryin' out loud!), but a lot of the perceived good luck that has come my way has come along because I set things in motion, was prepared for it, and receptive to it -- AND dealt with the bad luck (and those who know my whole story know I was born into a lot of that, too!) in a positive way.

(The next step, of course, is being able to make that neon sign flash BEFORE someone else plugs it in for me, but... you know... baby steps.)

As many of you know, on my sister-friend Ali's birthday, she brings "the girls" together for an evening with Jude, who gives us all our Tarot readings for the year.  Analytical-brained me was incredibly skeptical of this at first, but Jude has proven herself year after year.  I left my notes (pun intended, for those of you who were at the workshop) at home, and am really itching to re-read them all right now, but the main message to me in this year's reading was that I had laid the groundwork (and needed to keep working on that), and that and the social/relationship connections I was making were preparing the way for something really big in my musical career.  And when that unexpected opportunity came up, I had to be ready to take that leap of faith and trust that the groundwork and relationships would hold me up and propel me forward.

Where and what that leap is is supposed to be a surprise, which is part of the fun.  The song we played together on Thursday was "Stand By Me" -- my first reaction to the choice was "oh geez, how many times have I played that song? this is gonna be boring".  But then Julie, the singer, came in in a place nobody expected.  And then Victor threw in some notes and chord changes that nobody expected.  And then we all put in dynamics that went the opposite direction anyone familiar with the song would have expected.  AND it became more fun than I've had in ages -- we were all flying by the seat of our pants, pushing our imaginations into strange new worlds and taking the audience along for a very cool ride.  It was the not knowing that kept it interesting, kept us listening, kept us working and exploring and taking that leap of faith together.

Going back to the Tarot, it was like we were all Card Zero, The Fool -- juggling all the possibilities, being everything and nothing, looking at the world with wonder and imagination and awe, and having the innocent faith that our leap of faith would open up a whole new world of possibility.  And it DID.  That wonder and imagination and the faith, love and trust that six previously total strangers had for each other created a remarkable thing -- something I don't think anyone in that room will forget in a long, long time.

And, Fool that I am, I'm still juggling and wondering and playing and have not come down from that incredible high.  The leap of faith hasn't landed.  I'm not sure if it will, before I take the next one.  Those who got used to the Old Me being back again might be in for a few bloody walls of their own.

Because between Big Ethyl, Jude, and Victor Wooten... I'm ready to jump, baby, I'm jumping now!  Round and round and round she goes, where she'll stop, nobody knows...

Foolishly yours,
Alyssa

Monday, April 27, 2009

More madness about the CBC

Hi folks,

Still insanely busy, but thought I'd pass on the latest from Friends of the CBC. I'll go back to ranting one of these days, I promise!

************

Dear Alyssa,

Let's tell Heritage Minister James Moore to come clean!

Despite their claims, the Conservatives have not provided CBC record levels of funding. Instead, the Conservative have actually cut CBC's funding by $63 million, according to the latest spending plan tabled by the government in Parliament on February 26th, 2009.

Telling the truth is the first step toward ensuring the CBC is given the funding it needs.

Take Action Now!

********************

Something very troubling has arisen amid the deep cuts to the CBC's creative staff and programs.

Under intense questioning in Parliament and in response to messages from tens of thousands of CBC supporters, the Prime Minister and many of his MPs have made false statements.

Prime Minister Harper stated falsely in the House of Commons on March 25, that this year's Budget provides CBC with "record financing... in the order of $1.1 billion".

Many people who wrote to their Conservative MPs have shared the responses with us. These replies are modeled on statements the Prime Minister has made in Parliament.

Here is a typical example:

"As far as funding is concerned, the CBC is currently receiving the highest funding package in its history. This year the CBC will receive $1.1 billion of taxpayers' money."

This statement is false!

This development goes to the heart of integrity in public life. We should be able to expect our Prime Minister and his followers to tell us the truth.

The real story from the government's Main Estimates (their spending plan for the coming year) tabled on February 26 is that the government has cut CBC's funding in 2009/10 by $63 million – that's equivalent to a $79 million reduction in purchasing power when inflation is considered. And, since they were first elected, the Conservatives have cut the purchasing power of CBC's grant by $119 million (when inflation is taken into account).

I believe this is an indicator of the pressure being felt by the government, especially by those Conservative MPs who won by narrow margins in last autumn's election and who are hearing our message loud and clear.

We must work hard to maintain and increase that pressure. There is a golden opportunity to fight for the CBC this Wednesday (April 29) when Heritage Minister James Moore will be appearing before the House of Commons Heritage Committee.

This is an important occasion. It will be the first time MPs have had a chance to grill the Minister in detail since the CBC announced its cuts.

So I urge you to send a message to Minister Moore.

Please ask him to just tell the truth when he appears before the Heritage Committee. Telling the truth is the first step toward ensuring the CBC is given the funding that it needs.

Your message will be automatically copied to members of the Heritage Committee, your own MP, the Prime Minister and the other Party leaders.

After thousands of people have demanded that the CBC be adequately funded, the Conservative government is feeling the pressure. There is hope for a sustainable future for CBC. We can turn this hope into reality if we act together now.

Please send your message to Heritage Minister James Moore now!

Yours sincerely,

Ian Morrison
Spokesperson
FRIENDS of Canadian Broadcasting

Monday, March 30, 2009

CBC Survival is Essential!!!

Hi folks,

I'm afraid I'm just too busy to compose one of my trademark rants, but this issue is too huge for me to remain silent. So I'm going to just cut and paste a few things in here.

First off, the letter I sent to the Right Horrible Prime Minister:

Right Hon. Stephen Harper
Prime Minister of Canada
80 Wellington Street
Ontario Ottawa K1A 0A2

Dear Prime Minister Harper,

I can't believe that the government of Canada would consider bailing out private broadcasters while leaving CBC to face a $200 million deficit with no help whatsoever. Please make sure CBC has the resources it needs to do its job.

Arts, Culture and Communication are the lifeblood of any country. When industry and economy are down in times such as these, Communication, Motivation and Inspiration are especially key -- not just to keeping us afloat, but speeding up our recovery.

Failing to properly fund our NATIONAL COMMUNICATOR is short-sighted, and, frankly, quite idiotic. Canada needs this unifying tool. Do not destroy it.

Sincerely,
Alyssa Wright

*****

Next, a petition request I received from Avaaz Canada:

Dear friends,

Canada’s media networks have all been slammed by the recession. But the government is reportedly considering bailouts for its friends at private companies CTV and CanWest, while forcing the CBC to drastically cut 800 staff and programming.

Our CBC is a national treasure, and a pillar of public−interest journalism in a country whose media is owned by a few large firms. We won’t hear an outcry from their media outlets, and the CBC is too principled to use its megaphone to make the case for itself. We are the only voice the CBC has.

We urgently need a massive public outcry to Save the CBC, click below to sign the petition and forward this email to everyone who might care about this:

http://www.avaaz.org/en/save_the_cbc/98.php/?cl_taf_sign=c8dbb1eb5e77ba407be1c378e42bae43

The petition will be delivered directly to the government, through Parliament, ads, and stunts such as an airplane pulling a giant Save the CBC banner over Ottawa. In each case the number of signatures on the petition will be crucial to the effectiveness of the campaign, so let’s get as many people as possible to sign.

The CBC is facing a budget shortfall that amounts to just $6 per Canadian, but its request to the government for a bridging loan to cover this was denied. The deep cuts the CBC is making will damage the organization across the board, and they will not be the last. If we don’t stand up for the CBC now, it stands to die a death by a thousand cuts. Harper’s minority government is politically vulnerable – public outrage could turn the government around on this, but it has to happen now. Let's move quickly.

With hope,

Ricken, Lisa−Marie, Laryn and the whole Avaaz Canada team.

*********

Next, the letter I received yesterday from Friends of Canadian Broadcasting:

CBC's creative people have just been through the week from hell.

The cuts announced last week will leave our beleaguered public broadcaster a shadow of its former self, especially in smaller communities where CBC is often the only option.

This is all so unnecessary, yet this may be only the beginning.

More cuts to CBC news are expected mid-April. And if Stephen Harper's hand-picked President cannot raise enough through a firesale of CBC assets, he says that even more cuts will be required.

But there is a glimmer of hope. I urge you to join with me to stoke it.

Viewers and listeners have been outraged by the events of the past week. We have bombarded our MPs with calls, letters and emails demanding action. A storm of protest has erupted in the House of Commons as a result, and the government is under intense pressure to prevent the announced cuts.

Please join with me to turn up the volume by sending a message to the Prime Minister today demanding action.

There is a simple and inexpensive solution to CBC's funding shortfall.

Among modern industrialized nations, Canada in near the bottom when it comes to investing in public broadcasting. The average is $80 per citizen and countries like Great Britain, Germany and Norway invest even more.

In Canada, our government provides only $33 per citizen. That's just not enough for CBC to serve as the public broadcaster Canadians want and need. The House of Commons Standing Committee on Canadian Heritage has recognized this and called for an increase of $7 per person - to $40.

Please join me to urge our government to bump up Canada's investment to at least half the average. That would mean only a $7 increase for each Canadian. Per year!

If we don't act today, the pressure on the government and the momentum we have built will be lost.

Seven dollars is a small price to pay to keep our CBC.

Please act now... before it's too late.

Yours sincerely,

Ian Morrison
Spokesperson
FRIENDS of Canadian Broadcasting

P.S. Please feel free to forward this email

*****

The Friends of Canadian Broadcasting also have a FaceBook site. I encourage everyone to support the CBC!!!

(Who knows, I may still end up ranting later, but right now I've got a tour and CD release to work on )