Something Good About Soccer

Last week I dropped in to have coffee and a chat with a friend and colleague. We used to have the opportunity to share war stories as our offices were across the hall from each other. Since the move that has not happened as often. It happened that I had a meeting in Brandon so the coffee thing worked out. She informed me that she had checked out my blog that morning but I had not kept to my usual Friday post. I had an excuse. I was on the road Thursday and Friday. She asked what the topic was for the week and was quick to add a suggestion. She felt that I should write something good about soccer. She felt there was so much said about golf that it was time to write about something else. Like soccer.

Personally I took it as a cry for help. You see, she was going to be spending the weekend watching kids play soccer. Soccer is not the most invigorating sport to watch. In case you are telling yourself that I have no expertise on this don’t be so hasty. I watched a soccer game this summer. My daughter’s boyfriend plays the sport. He is what they call the “keeper”. That would be goalie in plain English. So I went and watched a game. Honestly, it was mind numbing. I was thankful that a cousin of mine showed up which gave me an opportunity to visit with someone. At one point I thought they had changed “keepers”. It took a few minutes to realize they had just changed ends.

The argument is made that golf is boring and who would ever want to watch golf. I get it. Amateur golf is not a spectator sport. Nobody ever watches me play golf. I never went to watch the kids play golf. Yes, I do watch golf on TV. And so do many others. I will admit that there are times when I am meandering down a fairway I question what it is I really am doing out there. It appears to be a pointless game. My efforts often times futile. Reminds me of a quote I saw some time ago. “When primitive man screamed and beat the ground with sticks, they called it witchcraft. When modern man does that it’s called golf.” (K, I am sure that applies to women as well)

Back to soccer. Something good about soccer. I was just watching national news. Apparently Canada played Honduras in a soccer match. In Honduras in front of 40,000 fans. Canada lost. 8 to 1. Much adieu about the score. The coach has apologized. Someone suggested this was embarrassing. Embarrassing? Not sure why. You lost. Get over it. 9 goals scored in one game. Must have actually provided some entertainment for the fans. The captain of the women’s Olympic team has been suspended for yelling at the ref during a soccer game. Sure, blame it on the refs. Don’t get me wrong. It would have been great to see the Canadians beat the Americans. But they didn’t.

Okay. I still have not said anything good about soccer. I am working on it. Here goes. I think I know for sure that I might be able to confidently say that soccer fans are passionate. And I will admit that some players are quite talented with their feet. Okay, their heads to. But that is where it ends. At the end of the day I still prefer watching golf. And, I am not in the least bit tempted to play soccer. Here is hoping that the sun comes out for the weekend. My golf course is closing Sunday for the winter. Would like to get in one or two more rounds. Make it a good one.

Thanksgiving And All

Although this is only being posted at the end of the week, the Friday after thanksgiving, I am, at least starting to, write this on Thanksgiving day. A day when most people will be getting together and stuffing their faces. Get it? Stuffing their faces. With stuffing none the less. After all, stuffing is something you have with turkey and turkey is what is traditionally eaten at Thanksgiving. What did the turkey eat for thanksgiving? Nothing. It was already stuffed. (groan) And then for dessert some of you poor folk are actually going to eat pumpkin pie. Never quite got that one.

Watching news this weekend I heard that Canadians waste 27 billion dollars’ worth of food annually. 27 billion. Unbelievable. Imagine that. That works out to just under 1,000 dollars per person. Do you know that the amount of food we waste equals Canada’s deficit for last year? If you extrapolate that over the G8 nations you come up with a staggering number. Wonder how many people we could feed with what gets wasted every year.

It is the time of year when one reflects on the good things in life. I know. Far too often it is easier to think about all the things that suck. But, you will notice a significant swing in your mood if you focus on good things. That happens to be a little easier for me this year as we celebrate the arrival of our first grandchild. When the kids brought him for his first visit Sunday I was awestruck with that tiny bundle of new life. So much potential. At the same time I have to wonder what is in store for the little guy. The world we live in changes on a daily basis. Things just are not as simple as they once were.

I am reading a very interesting book. The setting is in the early 1900’s. That would seem archaic to many. Almost pre-historic to others. We are talking a mere 100 years ago. The story happened during the first world war. It has intense, graphic descriptions of what happened during that time. From coal mining to war, aristocracy to working class, and the dynamics of conflict between many European countries. The language of the day, terminology they used makes me chuckle at times. Reiterates the point that the world has changed. People have changed. Technology has changed. Our thinking has changed.

Many of these changes are positive. No question. However, how we adapt to these changes can dictate our future. In spite of these changes many of the dynamics remain. Power struggles. Discrimination of people based on religion, color, sexual orientation, to name but a few. There does not appear to be any less conflict. Many people are struggling. There is often a cry for help that goes unheeded. We have the ability to do so much but far too often we do so little. We take things for granted.

Going through some pictures on my cell phone I came across a picture I obviously took at some point in my travels. I have forgotten where I took this. And that’s understandable as I am a grandfather. A picture of a quote on a poster. It goes like this. “In the end we will preserve only what we love, we will only love what we understand, we will understand only what we are taught.” Makes me hope that I taught my kids the right things. Makes me hope that my grandson will be taught the right things. Knowing his parents I feel confident that will happen. Make it a good one.

The Waiting Game

I recall, many years ago, waiting for our kids to be born. It was stressful. Of course, I suspect, I was quite naïve back in the day and had no clue what awaited me. I just knew I was going to be a father. I looked forward to it. I was excited. And it did happen and we were fortunate to have three healthy kids. At the time I found myself feeling quite good about the fact that the three were born so close together. Although it is almost embarrassing to have the new year’s baby 3 out of 4 years. (Actually it wasn’t quite that way. Our third child was a day late for the new year baby distinction and she was born in February. Only in small town Manitoba.) I recall, while leaving the hospital with child number two, the nurse saying to us; “see you next year”.

And while they were young it was great to have these kids crawling, jumping and walking all over the place. Then, in a blink of an eye, they all became teenagers in a very short order. My perspective changed but obviously it was too late to do anything about that. What appeared a relatively easy task initially, quickly turned into a bigger challenge. But, I can honestly say, so far so good. Their growing up years can’t have been too bad as two of them are currently living with us. One even brought a boyfriend and a dog. Perhaps we need to quit cooking with cheese.

I am again in a position of waiting. I have known for a while that I was going to become a grandfather. Wow. That sounds ominous and exciting all at the same time. Ominous because it makes me sound old. Ominous because that means our kids are all grown up. Ominous because, again, there comes a certain amount of responsibility. Although this go around we can spoil the kid rotten. After all, when he becomes too ornery we can send him home. (Yes, it is a boy) Or I can give him to grandma. Wait a minute. When my kids acted up I seemingly always had work to do in the barn. Easy way out, perhaps. And how about those diapers.

This becoming a grandpa has really made me reassess myself. Made me look in the mirror. I know. That is a scary thought. The last year has brought so many changes. Last September we experienced one of our kids getting married. In January we sold our house and bought a house in a new community. In February we moved. And here we are expecting our first grandchild. As much as time flies by I can honestly say that I do not recall any other 12 month period in my life that saw so many positive changes.
To celebrate all of this I went to see a doctor today. I miss the doctor I had back in Wawanesa. This doctor was all business. In seven minutes flat he had given me a complete physical. Yes. Including that dreaded prostate check. The doctor I used to have liked to visit. Chat about farming. Not so much today. Hey, I got a clean bill of health. Really that is all that matters. He informed me that I appeared to be in “reasonably” good shape. What the heck does that mean.

So here is what I am going with. By the end of the weekend I know I will be a grandpa. If it does not happen naturally by then the doctors will help him along. (Seems to be a stubborn little guy, just like his father.) In the meantime I can relish in the fact that I will be a reasonably fit grandpa. “I am going to make the rest of my life the best of my life.” I know that with all the positive changes over the last year I have a good start. Make it a good one.

P.S. After 30 hours of labor Kai James entered this world at 3:30 last night.

Breaking The Silence

I have a brother who is the pastor of a church in Saskatchewan. Occasionally he will send me his sermons. Now, whether that is because he feels I don’t go to church often enough or whether he thinks I need more spiritual food than what I am getting or whether he just feels that the topics he picks will interest me, I am not sure. Perhaps it doesn’t matter. I have another brother who is not a pastor but probably should be. Then again, based on my mother’s opinion, I should probably be one too. However, that is a topic best left for another day. So in a nutshell I have one brother that is “Mennonite” (leave that one alone as well) and one who is Catholic. Then again I have a friend who is a Lutheran pretending to be Catholic. So what am I? Since our move I have been to a Catholic church and a Mennonite church. I suspect that would categorize me as being between churches.

Back to the real topic. The latest sermon I read talked about breaking the silence. Reminded me of the work I have been doing in the last few years. Ironically, the same day I read the sermon I did a noon hour interview on CBC radio noon. The topic was the ever worsening plight of our hog farmers. I emphasized the fact that people need to talk more. They need to open up. Find a support system. Find the resources that can help them. They need to break the silence.

“Breaking the silence” is a common theme in today’s world. When you google “breaking the silence” there are over 7 million results. 7 million. Quite astounding, actually. In my work with the Manitoba Farm and Rural Support Services we often talk about “breaking the silence” as it concerns depression and suicide. In my radio interview I was again asked about my experience with depression. I have often related how I kept it quiet. Even today when I find myself slipping I am loathe to talk about my mental health issues. Why is that? Why is there such a stigma to talking about how we are feeling mentally or emotionally? I have no problem telling anybody who will listen when I have a back ache. I quite openly complain about being tired. My wife thinks I never stop complaining when I have a cold. These ailments are easy to talk about. However, talking about feeling down, feeling anxious, feeling helpless, is difficult.

“Silence is to say we can imagine nothing else than what is and we are quite prepared to accept the evil as the best and only thing that can be.” I took this quote directly from my brother’s sermon. That quote really hit home for me and my struggles with negative thoughts and feelings. When I allow the dark clouds to move in, when I do not act proactively against these feelings, I often times feel like I am conceding. I am giving in. I seem to accept the darkness as the only thing that can be.

The challenge for us is also to be aware of those around us. Many of us have friends and neighbors who are struggling due to a variety of reasons. These people often times feel alone. They have withdrawn. Perhaps they could use our help. “Maybe there is a silence that needs breaking but the people who need to be heard simply cannot find their voice. It’s been silenced for too long, the pain is too great, the hopelessness has gone on for too long? You can break the silence for them, and give voice to their cry, their pain, their groaning.” (Another quote from my brother. If nothing else he should at least know that I read the stuff he sends me.) I know from experience that talking to someone about my issues helps. I have also found that when I talk, others share with me. I just hope that I can help others like others have helped me. Make it a good one.

Means To An End

The hog industry is in the news again. Over the last week we have heard of two large companies seeking court protection from their creditors. An industry that had so much potential is facing ongoing challenges. At the outset of 2012 there was significant optimism. The future looked bright. Feed prices were relatively stable. Futures prices for hogs were good. I talked to some producers who had locked in very favorable prices. But then that changed. Drought hit the American mid-west. Feed prices sky rocketed. Potential profits turned to devastating losses. What looked good, no longer was.

It is difficult to imagine how much money has been lost in the industry. Back in the mid 1990’s there were many positive market indicators that showed the industry having nothing but success. The government of the day jumped on the band wagon. The Manitoba industry was promoted around the world. Study after study showed how Manitoba could be and would be the place to produce hogs. But since 1998 the industry has had more downers than uppers.

I remember 1998. It was the beginning of the end for many producers. The price hit all-time lows. It was said at the time that producers lost 15 years of equity. Some knew that it would be a struggle to make that back. Many tried. Many failed. Some sooner than others. I have sometimes said, facetiously, that I was one of the first to lose my farm. My claim to fame. Truth be known, I have looked back and thought of things that I could have done differently that could have kept me in the game. In the last few years I have come to the realization that my demise as a farmer was inevitable. Some people have suggested I was lucky. Maybe I was.

Over the last few years I have dealt with many fellow hog producers. So often the question comes up, what will I do? Is there life after farming? Many have reached the age where they thought they were working towards retirement only to have, what was once worth thousands or millions, become a liability. Not something that promises a healthy retirement. Now they wonder, what next?

Often times we hear that there is more to life than money. Don’t even get me going on the current labor dispute in the NHL. The top Jets player will be losing $64,000 per game that is not played. That is more money than many people make in a year. Much could be said about that. Often it is said that money is simply a means to an end. Far too often these comments come from people who have never experienced the devastation of losing all. The devastation of coming face to face with the reality that life has changed. The reality is that money is important. And yes it is the means to an end. An end to one part of life as we move into the next phase. A comfortable retirement. For years we have committed to the demands of our farms. Sacrificed, because some day all that work and effort will pay off. When you have a passion to farm, when you are connected to the land, when farming has been your life, it is very difficult to see anything beyond that.

The stress of facing these financial challenges is enormous. Our pride is hurt. Our self-esteem takes a beating. We feel like such failures. We feel lost. We feel alone. This stress often hampers our decision making abilities. It hampers us from making good choices. We do things we would not normally do. Far too often these poor choices only make things worse. The good news in all of this is that there is help. There is relief. The key is to reach out for help. There are others that have been there. There are those that can guide you through the process of moving on. And best of all. There is life after farming. I know. I have been there. Make it a good one.

Random Acts Of Kindness 2

I did a random act of kindness early one morning last week. I wish I could say I had done it intentionally. Not so. I was rushing to a meeting. Enroute I stopped at the bank to deposit a cheque. I also needed cash. No problem. It’s handy when you drive by the bank on the way to your destination. Downtown Winnipeg I stopped at my usual coffee corner for a coffee and muffin. I put my hand in my pocket to grab my money. It was at that point that panic set in. I had no cash. My mind started racing. Where could it be? I checked my pockets. Twice. I thought I had lost it. I thought back to my stop at the bank. The only conclusion I could come up with is that I never took it from the ATM. I was in a hurry. I was somewhat preoccupied. Of course, this created a distraction all morning.

Why am I telling you this story? Plain and simple. I knew that at some point I would have to fess up. Admit to my forgetfulness. My stupidity. My ineptness. Break it to my wife. I shared this with one of the participants in my meeting. She laughed and suggested what she doesn’t know can’t create issues. I could only wish it would be that simple. Unfortunately my wife checks the bank balance on a daily basis. There would be questions about why I needed to make two cash withdrawals in one day. I needed cash to pay for parking. It would be tough to fool anyone.

I have another problem. Since I was young I have never been able to hide any feelings of guilt. In fact I can recall my mother questioning me when she thought I had a guilty look on my face in spite of me not having done anything wrong. That problem has stuck with me. I wear my thoughts on my face. Tough to keep secrets that way. Tough to hide anything.

So at noon I called her. Curious what I would hear. Filled with trepidation over what she would say. She laughed and without missing a beat suggested that I had made someone’s day with that screw up. That was it. The only verbal abuse I got for that incident was what I gave myself. And trust me, I did give myself a true tongue lashing. I am really getting good at that. Call myself everything in the book. Accomplish nothing by doing that.

So what now? I stopped in at the bank to ask them. They said I should bring in my receipt and they would investigate. Oh really? What if I don’t keep my receipt. I never even look at them. Don’t want to know. Stems back from my farming days. What I don’t know can’t hurt me. I wish. Well, as luck would have it I found my receipt. In my car, in the cup holder. How it got there I have no idea. It’s still readable, in spite of the coffee stains. See if they can investigate that.

I challenged a client today that they should leave the past behind and look ahead. Move on. Like the saying goes, “scars remind us of where we have been but do not have to dictate where we are going”. Perhaps that should be my goal. After all, it was only 60 bucks. Ouch, that still hurts. But, I suspect, I have probably spent money on things less useful. Lesson learned. In the meantime I made someone’s day. I hope. Make it a good one.

Hope Springs

The good news is, I remembered my wife’s birthday. Even better, the kids took control of the evening. They made dinner. Not my favorite but who cares. I did not have to prepare it. One son surprised his mother by showing up earlier than she had expected. All I did was suggest, early in the week, that I would take them all to a movie. Of course, with me paying the way, I got to choose. Ever mindful, of course, of what my wife would like to see. I chose the movie Hope Springs. Not because of the topic, a middle aged couple having bedroom issues, but because I like the main actors. Tommy Lee Jones and Meryl Streep. I suspected it would be good.

I would be remiss in not pointing out that my kids were not that enthused about the movie pick I had made. One hates movies and did not want to go at all. Another one suggested that the Bourne Legacy movie was showing as well. He obviously knows my weakness for the Bourne movies. But they humoured me. We all went. By the time we got there the theater was almost full. We had to sit right in front. I did notice, however, that our kids were the youngest people there.

I enjoyed the movie. Had a few good laughs. Noticed quite a bit of laughter coming from behind us. Some of it seemed like nervous laughter. I was wondering if there were parts of the movie that was hitting some nerves. You know the old adage, truth hurts? I suppose that is what happens when you have a bunch of middle aged people watching a movie about relationships, particularly as it concerns the physical aspects of a marriage. It was hilarious to see Tommy Lee Jones playing the role of a man forced to go to marriage counseling. Frustrated, nervous, nonchalant. A roller coaster of emotions.

What I got out of that movie was that we need to make an effort at retaining and maintaining our relationships. It does not happen on its own. We need to work on it. No different than many other things we do in life. If I don’t practice and work on my golf game on a regular basis it goes awol. If I don’t keep up with training and working at my mediation skills I lose my effectiveness. If I don’t watch what I eat or drink my body does not respond the way I wish it would. Quite frankly, this age thing is wreaking havoc with that. The point is that we need practice, we need “updating”, we need to work on all aspects of our lives. And there are times that we need to seek professional help.

It’s called relationships. We have partners. All of us make mistakes. We are human. All I can say is hope springs. The lesson I learned from the movie is simply this. Communication is important. Jumping to conclusions, making assumptions, picturing in our minds what might happen are exercises in futility.

My wife and I are taking a break for the weekend. Take a little trip south. Grand Forks. Ironically that is where we went on our honeymoon 30 years ago. Hmmmm. Wonder what will be different this time around. I may tell you about it, but then again, I may not. Make it a good one.