Back to 'normal'?

On Tuesday, April 1, 2025, ironically April Fools Day, I declared myself 100% recovered from my stupid overworking of my right leg on a morning ride on Tuesday, August 29, 2023. That the issue started and came to an end on Tuesdays, is just a silly coincidence that I discovered just now as I was punching the dates into my trusty date calculator. 581 days is a long painful time.

Well it's behind me now, and I feel blessed.

I am gradually getting back to my weekday routine. ~35 minutes of exercises (before the misery it was only 17 minutes, but the recovery path involved more exercise), followed by a bike ride.

I have taken my bike out each of the last three mornings.

I love to ride. That's why I live my life on two wheels.

This morning I was blessed with fog.

Out of the blue, a star?

I discovered jazz when I was, I'm guessing now, eleven or twelve years old.

There was a show on CBC television that played Dave Brubeck's Take Five as its theme. I knew instantly in that moment, in spite of my youth, that I was listening to something very different and it resonated with me. Wikipedia says that Take Five is the biggest-selling jazz song of all time and a Grammy Hall of Fame inductee. 

Going back to the dawn of smartphones, I have listened to two jazz radio stations pretty much all the time thanks to the magic of streams. The station I listen to most of the time is Toronto-based JazzFM91. The other station is Paris-based TSF Jazz. Their streams are stored in the Apple Music app on my iMac and my system is set up so that I can fill our home, room by room, with the jazz those stations offer with a trackpad click or two. Thanks to the stream aggregator TuneIn, Siri brings me the stream instantly when I say "Siri, play JazzFM on Apple Music".

Jazz helps me focus. Whether it was when I was still riding a Vespa and I streamed those stations into my helmet over bluetooth, driving the car and listening on-air, riding my Brompton as jazz streams into my AirPods, or sitting at my desk deep into some variety of a legal issue or into hobby time.

In the case of JazzFm, the station is "listener-supported". The only way the station and its amazing crew can continue to bring jazz into their listeners' lives, is with the donations it receives from its listeners, myself included.

As wonderful as jazz is, and in spite of the benefits to its devotees in terms of providing a creative soundtrack for our lives, it is not nearly popular enough to generate the advertising revenues that would allow the station to thrive without donor support.

A couple of months ago, the station reached out to me offering Susan and I a guided tour of the station's studio. How could we pass that up?

I wasn't expecting much, to be honest.

It turned out to be as expected, meeting the staff and crew in their work space... BUT, it exceeded my expectations in many ways.

First and foremost, the warmth, generosity, and welcome that greeted us as we intruded in the middle of a work day, was extremely touching. And not just from the station's listener-facing staff, but from the technical personnel and the legendary on-air host Brad Barker, even as we listeners invaded his studio with its complex of networked equipment with a myriad glowing lights and hundreds of buttons and sliders.

Brad Barker

Brad Barker

Talk about bulls in a china shop!!

As special and fascinating as the tour was, offering us a deep dive into the exquisite complexity of radio broadcasting in the 21st century, it also reminded us of the amazing commitment of the station to the community, and particularly its contributions supporting the jazz artists making a living in the medium, as well as the students at the most important music faculties in the local universities who know they can look to JazzFM for expert support as they take on the many challenges of launching a demanding career in entertainment.

But there was one stunning moment that I could never have anticipated.

We crowded into a small production studio that is used, among other things, for one-on-one in-studio interviews. As the producer explained the recording equipment spread out in a semi circle on his desk, he invited one of us to approach the microphone and speak their name when prompted.

Well... the space was cramped, and guess what? Susan happened to be right in front of the microphone. Never, never, ever, would Susan have volunteered to speak into a studio microphone. But what could she do... Susan was the only visitor in a position to meet the request.

She leaned into the microphone, and when prompted, simply said her name. She said it as you might imagine she might. Not by any means even close to the tone and assurance of a seasoned broadcast personality, but much more like a reluctant volunteer, with a touch of reticence, tempered by a strong dose of humility.

And that is when the incredible completely unexpected magic happened.

OMG I married a budding broadcast star!!

Happiness is... simple?

Life is one constant evolution... I know... I know.

This year is not what last year was, and it’s not what the previous year was either.

On a personal level, things are good. I just need to deduct politics from the equation. I have succeeded, to a degree, and I am happier for it.

I happen to be writing this post sitting in a municipal library while Susan sees our physiotherapist. We are hoping he will do for her, what he has already done for me.

This library has an interesting name. It’s the Wychwood branch of the Toronto Public Library, and it has a beautifully done interior, in a restored older building. It is so nice that it has prompted me to write this post.

Susan and I are blessed. We recently returned from just over two weeks in Amsterdam and Copenhagen, and we are already booked on a spring cruise to Japan. This next trip may be one I am most looking forward to.

Lately I am more focused on the artistic aspects of my life than at any time in the past. For instance, there is quite an artistic sensibility at work in this library. The dark finishes offset by the ample lighting as well as light from an abundance of large windows, the contrast between modern and traditional, the large open spaces, and of course, people focused on work and study, and the resulting quiet… so soothing.

In my case, artistic expression is, in some measure, after my wife and family, a source of my happiness, and it is primarily expressed in writing. To a much lesser extent I find it through photography. Ultimately, interior design and architecture are subjects that interest me. 

I would love to live in a minimalist, modern, Japanese-style home, with a garden in the same style.

Unless I buy a lottery ticket and win a ridiculous amount of money, that won’t happen. Maybe… but only if I actually bothered to buy lottery tickets once in a while. So, no.

From the beginning Susan and I have purchased furnishings with good design.  Some we have ended up seeing in museums in New York and Copenhagen.  We have really nice modern couches in our den and living room. We like clean simple lines. We appreciate well-planned lighting. We both love art.

All these aspects of our home are ingredients in my happiness recipe.

I am sharing this with you in case it helps you in your quest for happiness, for joie de vivre.

I’ll admit that my recipe for happiness is a complicated one with a lot of moving parts, yet ultimately, and quite ironically, simplicity is definitely one of its key driving forces.

I advocate simplicity whenever I get involved in a planning discussion with clients, friends, or family.

The problem with simplicity is that making something that achieves its purpose in the most simple and efficient way, is usually more complicated and time-consuming, and requires a lot more thought than alternative approaches. I find that if a premium is placed on time, the plan will emerge quickly, but it often comes burdened with unanticipated complexity.

Less is more.

Since I had the good fortune to stumble on it earlier this year, I recommend to anyone who seems to me to have artistic aspects in their life to read Rick Rubin's The Creative Act - A way of being. 

On the topic of simplicity, Rick Rubin, speaking of the thing being created, cites Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, at page 242:

"Refine it to the point where it is stripped bare, in its least decorative form yet still intact. With nothing extra. Sometimes the ornamentation can be of use, often not. Less is generally more. 

"Perfection is finally obtained not when there is no longer anything to add, but when there’s no longer anything to take away." [Antoine de Saint Exupéry, Terre des Hommes, ch. III, L’avion, Éditions Gallimard, p. 199 "Il semble que la perfection soit atteinte non quand il n’y a plus rien à ajouter, mais quand il n’y a plus rien à retrancher."]

It's the eve of...

... and there's the rub... the eve of what exactly?

No doubt the eve of a momentous series of events with the only semi-certainty that our world, in just a few hours, will shake, quake, rattle, and roll, as our southern neighbour chooses its fate for the coming four years.

A flood of adjectives comes to mind.

I remember when I was five. We lived in a duplex with radiators and a boiler fuelled by coal; there was a coal bin in the basement.

As I think of adjectives to describe the situation today, I am reminded, quite vividly, of standing in front of the coal bin as my dad shovelled coal into the hot glow of the boiler's open mouth.

Today is like that.

The many adjectives that come to mind are like the hundreds of lumps of black coal in the dim and dark bin. They're all negative; each as inadequate in describing the scene down south, as a single lump of coal in feeding the fire.

And yet I am not overcome with pessimism.

As I read the paper this morning, and as I gaze at the information flowing from my devices, I believe that enough people will do what I would do in a heartbeat when they wield a pencil to cast their choice for the coming years, motivated by reason, fairness, integrity, compassion, and hope.

We'll see.

{48 hours later}

I see that I was wrong. There were not enough people. I'll leave it there, look away, turn my back and hope for the best.

{98 days later} 

Canada is literally under attack by the United States of America led by a president who is easily the most dumb, despicable, unethical, untrustworthy, disgusting person on the continent. We are not alone. Other nations who believed the U.S. to be their ally are either under attack, or bracing for an attack. How stupid is this? We have no choice but to fend off the assault by uniting and taking every step possible to return the favour. I will not travel to the States even though I have good friends there, and we have family there; I no longer buy anything that comes from the U.S.; and I will vote in the upcoming elections in Canada for leaders who will be best at facing this unexpected enemy with intelligence, integrity, courage, and conviction. It is what it is. Canadians need to shift the focus away from the U.S., turn our backs, and look elsewhere for allies we can trust.