PINK FLAMINGOS - the story

 

To everything, turn, turn, turn

There is a season, turn, turn, turn

And a time to every purpose under heaven

P I N K  F L A M I N G O S
the story

Signs & Signals

There are certain songs that resonate to this day. I mean, they just got it right. In the early summer of '65 this song was on the radio several times a day and Jesus! They nailed it.
A groundswell in reactivation. The song spoke for all those in it. Making sense 60 years later.

Guys hair - getting longer - challenging 'the establishment's' gender values. It's not that I wanted long hair because it was more feminine but because it was 'cool'. Guys becoming softer and more transparent, was groovy. A lot of mixed messages. 

A lot of hiding ... fear, mostly amongst older men. Secrets.

The Elaborate Entrance

I was 8 when homosexuality first entered my orbit. Sloane Street in Woodstock Ontario about a year before my parents split. It was summer 1965 just over a year after The Beatles were featured on the Ed Sullivan Show. I was entering grade 5 that September.  It was 4 years before puberty so I was hovering like a fly, waiting for the windshield on a freeway. I was clueless; having absolutely no idea about anything pertaining to sex, other than an attraction to girls in a cerebral capacity. I was getting that there was more to it only not knowing what. Little hints that there was a tsunami on the horizon. The provoking prepubescent pokes. 

Like overhearing Dad and his friend Rick talking in the back yard over a beer. That quiet malevolent chuckle shared by 2 men confident in their manly manhood. "I think Bill's a homo" - Dad saying, referring to a happily married mutual friend. Homo. What's that?
I went inside. Mom cooking supper. Macaroni & cheese with weiners, asking ... Mom, what's a 'homo'? That look of sheer terror on her face, long pause ... 'oh you don't need to know about that' she said. 'Where did you hear that? Go wash your hands. Dinner's almost ready'. 

Ok. Obviously it's a bad thing. So bad that even discussing it out loud could make it worse. Just better not to talk about it is what I learned early on. My curiosity waned but was always there wondering why they were so afraid of it. Truth is, she had been shaken to the core by my innocent inquiry. Time passed. 

About a month later we were watching The Dean Martin Show together. He always came on with a glass of bourbon in one hand and a cigarette in the other; half in the bag. Family entertainment in the mid 60s was loaded with obscure anomalies and even outright contradictions. That's just how it all played out. I didn't get the deal with homosexuality. Like why is this such a big problem? Even at 8 thinking this.

Music fade after Palmolive commercial: you're soaking in it

Dean is slurring his words like he always does.

"Tonight, we have a very 'special guest' on the show". It was a moment that stayed with me - to this day. Like it was yesterday. Liberace was introduced by Dean. He flamboyantly talked for a bit, waving his hands around whilst, likely to show off all his expensive rings before he played his white piano, ordained with a massive silver candelabra. Ok, I'm confused. Is he a man or a woman? Ok obviously a man and everyone loves him BUT, he acts like a woman! Talks like one, even dresses like one. Mom saying - I love him - Dad quietly laughing ... 'he's a homo'. Both oblivious (well at least Mom was). Mom slapping Dad on the arm playfully.  "Shhhh. Not in front of the kids" she whispered. I heard that! Terrible taboo.

Making me think. What am I? The delinquent question. Am I a homo? That said, I knew that if I was? Shit would hit the proverbial fan which is why I could never tell a single soul. 

Ok, Mom may have had suspicions about the 'glitter man' but it didn't matter, almost like even if he was a homo, it was ok because he played so beautifully and was such an angel. In time, I discovered that those who worshipped him were mostly women or homos themselves AND that being a homosexual would later become an accepted way of life. MUCH later.

What you don't know? Won't hurt you

By the time puberty actually kicked in, my parents had separated and we had moved to Stoney Point (near Windsor) with my Dad who just took us there with a new woman in his life tagging along. I was 12 in 1969. I woke up one morning after the most amazing dream I'd ever had and was stuck to my sheets having no idea what had happened.

Finishing grade school in '69, all the way through high school and into liberal arts college in '75 where the sky opened after 7 straight years of holy homophobia. Brutal.

Epilogue: The Imposition

Right. Did you know there are 'gay' animals?  Your little Muffy-wuffy lying on the floor licking himself and affectionately looking up at you could be as queer as a 3 dollar bill. Who knew? Turns out there is roughly the same percentage of animals that are LGBTQ as we are. I'm guessing humans were just supposed to skip that part?

A biblical imposition?  Wait. If animals can be gay, why can't humans - and why are all flamingos pink? Aren't some guys?

 

P I N K  F L A M I N G O S
the story

FEATURING

TRIPTYCH (2020), a dance theatre production by Belgian company PeepingTom

www.peepingtom.be

jimlamarche.ca

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HEROES & COWARDS

Bait & Switch

6.38 am. The perfect cast - water is like glass ... kerplunk. The drop, the gentle pull. The slow decending return. Drag on the reel is set just right, like I am in this moment, anticipating magic. Loon in the distance. Seconds pass before the observation ...

There's a shiny squiggly thing moving up ahead in this cool murky green-brown water that's smaller than me. Cautiously approaching. What shall I do?  It's food like. Yum. I eat - it dies.

Right. We really aren't the sharpest knives in the drawer, are we? A few fries short of a happy meal. There is a new thought process unravelling in me as of late. In 10 years of looking through the lens at those who gravitate to authoritarianism, I am now realizing that it is mostly genetic. Generations of parenting in patterns. Predictable.

Danger disguised. We are pulled to what's familiar. Safe.

Payback

Rooted in insecurity, the resentment festers and metastasizes. Populists see the opportunity and fan the flames disseminating disinformation, harnessing fear; using media to their advantage and gathering fragmented followers. Reaction feels good (for a few seconds). Heart rate increases, endorphins kick in with the seething stimulation that jumpstarts any given day, adding quality time and strengthening our resolve. 

Sound familiar? It should. We're in it.

There are certain politicians that stand out in that regard. Unusually robust, overweight middle aged white guys (who conveniently have a shit-load of money), claiming they actually speak 'for the people' - a tad arrogant, outspoken and no shortage of detached animus. It's like they all have something to prove (to their furious fathers), managing to convince the people that they are legit. The lesson being, you really don't need to be a rocket scientist, to be in politics. All it takes is a little swagger. 'Gift of the gab' was what they called it in the 60s. 

Sales.

The Outlaw & The Red Flag

In 2016 and again in 2025 nearly 74 million Americans voted for the strong man. Impotent, outlaw/felon and repeatedly bankrupt. Bully, cheater, purveyor of shams & scams and a penchant for payback. None of that matters. Rock star. Larger than life. It was always there going back centuries and coming around again. Humanity invariably returns to malevolence in a short term gain, long term pain amusement park ride that cycles then recycles ad nauseam. Wilful ignorance along with a convincing public narrative reinforces security.

Our historic fables in folklore, the anti-hero has always carried an unmistakable, charismatic charm that made them appealing regardless of their obvious disadvantages & impairments.  

Parenting is the passing on of values on to us children just like their parents passed them on to them, reflected in our religious/ideological beliefs, way of life and most importantly, our loyalty to those who speak for us in precarious parliaments. It's a 'this' OR 'that' referendum marked with rewards and punishments, heroes and cowards. 

Worship the Wacko

My Dad would have loved Trump. The big man in charge. Rich, compliant trophy wife - perks. Dad's whole thing was about this or that, reflected in his draconian parenting practices. Eat your liver OR go to bed hungry ... do as you're told OR ELSE! You see, lessons can either be learned the easy way or the hard way. Imposing one's will on another defines our place in the food chain and separates the men from the boys. It all comes down to 4 simple questions:

On a scale of 1 to 10 ... what do you value more in children:

1. Independence OR respect for elders?

2. Curiosity OR good manners?

3. Self reliance OR obedience?

4. Being considerate OR well behaved?

40 points right would point to an ardent supporter of authoritarian values. Dad would have scored an easy 40 with respect, manners, obedience & behaviour characterizing real patriotism. Mom maybe 20; like maybe she might think that being considerate and well behaved are equally important so she scored each a 5. I was spared a lot of unnecessary misery and able to raise my child with some semblance of empathy & humility because of that. Ultimately it was the feminine principle that saved my ass and shone light in the murky green-brown, revealing the lure with razor sharp hooks and the deceptive intention - the trap.

Women. The weaker sex? Right.

Tough love. Remember the line - 'this is going to hurt me more than it hurts you'? ... and so the hypocrisy begins. 'Do as I say, not as I do'. 'My way or the highway'. Economic uncertainty, inflation, cultural misappropriation, identity absence and loss of control are all bi-products of ideological alienation. Radicalization, foreign interference, paranoia, terrorism and inferiority all being components contributing to the MAGA community. Us or them. 

Life or death.

Need for Speed

If we don't get this right, we'll perish is what we're being told. The prickly potion - an elixir that makes people feel good again. For now. For politicians like Donald Trump it's nothing more than a game where collateral damage is all part of the outcome. As President, he gets the world's fastest sports car that does 200 mph and there's no point of owning one unless you can take it out and drive it that fast. Right? So THAT my friends, is exactly what he is doing. Full throttle - no prisoners - no quarter.

We are pulled to what's familiar.

According to his niece, psychologist/writer Mary Trump, it's compensation for a damaged childhood where he never felt safe, loved - abused, exploited and emasculated. Learning to adapt with defence mechanisms that proliferate in a new world where angry adolescence has no consequences, power has no limits and where emotional maturity is for woke losers. 

Dad was always a hero for me growing up or maybe he was my anti-hero. I'm still hanging on regardless. Wonder why? Maybe it just feels better that way.

HEROES & COWARDS

jimlamarche.ca

THE WRATH & THE RAPTURE

a discussion on options and opportunities in a turbulent world

Sweet Salvation

It's all rather morose, fatalistic, don't you think? I mean, c'mon. Pick a side. The right side? You live. The wrong side? You die. Simple stuff. Oh and only GOOD (God) shit happens on the right side. Wrong side? BAD shit. Wake up. Choose. For most voters in America's last election? The choice was in fact, a simple one, defaulting to the devout. 

I want to be a winner! ME not you. Me win. You lose!

America is the most powerful nation on Earth and they are at a point now where the powers that be have convinced them that if they choose the right side, they will benefit, prosper, dominate. They will come out on TOP, prevailing over those on the other side, weaker, left behind. Adversaries. Delegated to a BOTTOM position.Those not fulfilling the requirements will perish, refusing to believe. 

Outsiders

There is no WIN WIN ... I WIN you LOSE! When we are contorting freedom into being something restrictive, malevolent or something avoidant or punitive, that isn't freedom. It's a short lived conniption. A tantrum. 

It's a 'divide & conquer' approach to running things and a convincing one especially when momentum is on your side. Billionaires with billion dollar Super Pacs and God on board. A crime of the century con and all carried out in broad daylight. It’s chasing bad guys out the back door while the good guys slip in through the front door and clean out the living room.

A slam-dunk

I wrote a blog about 10 years ago called 'The Suicide Collective' addressing what I saw as a mass exodus in a willing extermination following. Us & Them by Pink Floyd nailed it 50 years ago. We are that much closer to it now. It's the insight in a resurrection that I'm drawn to - the plight and the revelation. The delivery of a humble humanity in a reimagined global community is far more appealing to me. Getting along with others requires effort. My way or the highway is something Dad blurted out when I was a kid and never made much sense. He died a lonely man.

Erroneous

So ya, I am in fact optimistic that it won't pan out as planned. Such campaigns have never really worked out in the past. Take the Roman Empire or Nazi Germany's kick at the can. Sure, they had legs for a while but dissipated in despair having imploded in its own generic grandiosity, power and unwillingness to embrace humanity as a whole. A failure. History has taught us that an ego driven autocracy can only last so long. 

Short term gain, long term pain has its limitations and it always regresses in time.

Winner - Loser. Pick one and if you choose the wrong one? You automatically lose. This is the mindset. You're either with ME or against me. The predictable predicament, always ending the same way. For me, it's all too clear. This is all temporary and ultimately? Will shift back eventually.

I will never know. It's just a hunch. The forecast is fair and faith is universal.

jimlamarche.ca

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THE 51st STATE

 

'When you're a star, they let you do it. 

You can do anything, whatever you want. 

You can grab 'em by the pussy'.

You gotta love being able to choose.  Yes please.  No thank you.

Make that bacon 'extra crispy', eggs over easy.  Oh,

and I'd like my staff to all be Playboy bunnies,

fresh blow - my internet on Starlink

and my lone star state steak 

bloody.

It's all about the preferences

and the control.

posted Wed April 16, 2025

Vote with your hearts, instincts and unique insights.

Vote for what feels right for YOU! You're alive and you matter ...
We live in a democracy. One that is in peril. VOTE for what makes sense, while you still can.

Ideological Dependence

We live in a sociological dystopia and this movie is getting bad reviews, just like all sociological dystopian movies do. Weird, quirky, abstract and dangerous. Almost all beautifully shot, art direction - top notch acting/photography and wicked music. A combination that never really caught on. Scary AF ... 

So, it's been a roller coaster ride.  You know the one that squeals as it's turning and you think you may go off the rails. The sparks. That smell of metal scraping against metal, teetering to one side then the other.

As I write this on April 16/25, we're 2 weeks out from a federal election and it's a shit-show of epic proportions, social media is filled with smears, accusations and character assassination, all designed to kill. Elected again, President Donald Trump is laughing and mocking us, only quieter in the last month and we're at attention. Liberal? Conservative? Knock yourself out there Canada. I'll take you one way or the other. Conservatives insisting that our problems are all inward and Liberals looking out at the world.

51st state. Yes or no?  You would think, a slam-dunk. Canadians united yes? Well, let's just put those muffins back in the oven on warm for a bit. It's a bit more complicated than that.

I've now spent 10+ years, talking to thousands on the political spectrum from coast to coast (mostly on-line), in a quest to find out how they think. So ya. I'm a budding pollster and moderate centrist leaning left, making me a full throttle lackey Libtard to many. I mean you have to be one or the other right?  Well no. Not really. Black & white is for extremists. Most Canadians are centrists (leaning left or right). More curious, better listeners - open to new ideas. This is WHY Ontario overwhelmingly voted Conservative a few months ago and are NOW about to switch this mid spring 2025. Listeners prevail. Issues prevail. 

Ideological dependence and attachment are just reasons to withdraw and with-hold ... get stuck. This gesture of intransigence being a measure of reaction and resentment that certain politicians rely on for leverage and dominance. The fact that most don't get that they're being manipulated is one of many reasons I'm sitting here right now writing this. Time is short.

This blog post reveals my findings / discoveries.

After years researching our bi-polarity, I've come to a confident conclusion. The gap has widened.

 
I know, Captain Obvious strikes again. All relevant. What I have learned, is that there are about 10% of Canadians now who are right in the center and THAT 10% (traditionally called 'swing' voters) could vote either way having not yet decided. Some very close to you. Leaning further right or left over the next few weeks WILL decide who wins it. My mission now is to help them decide. Gently. Ok fair friends ...

51st state. Yes or no?  One party addresses it. The other doesn't know how and would really prefer we didn't talk about that.  I need to stay neutral right now because it's better when the reader gets that epiphany in the middle of a sentence. The catharsis. It does however require being open to new ideas. 

For me, there is absolutely no question that America's tariff agenda on Canada is designed to put an economic chokehold on us. To inflict pain right where it hurts most ... our wallets. It's like in the theatre of wrestling where the dominant player bears down on his opponent until he surrenders, giving up. This is the modus operandi of a Commander in Chief wanting more choices on the menu. An option to control more and to take more for him and his billionaire campaign donors, and the annexation threat is REAL. 

None of this is meant to make anyone's life better, but theirs.

Now, even though they are hesitant to admit it (say it out loud) there are a few million Canadians who already think - hey, maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Canadians who like Trump. Yes millions. I mean, there would be no tariffs right? - with Pierre Poilievre in charge, we might even get perks. You know - tax cuts. Swag. Free shit. Oh and no frikkin' carbon tax! No more Liberal scams, rainbow parades or BLM marches. A return to basics - rules. Bring it home (to Daddy). Turns out, they're mostly younger men (and many of their devoted, compliant/complicit companions) who think they're getting a raw deal, likely having had disturbed Dads (who complained a lot and needed to be in charge), like American men did/do. Tradition. 

Same deal. Easy targets.

The Suggestion

I mean, ok ... we humans are so very open to suggestion, providing it fits nicely into our comfort zone. The grifted gullibility. For instance, we like the idea of someone, preferably a man, to take control of all the shit we have to deal with, telling us what to do; how to think. Even better, if WE benefit more than others, especially more than them. Cruel to be kind. Tough love. Sometimes punishment is necessary.

I'll give you this, many Liberals come across as being precocious, even indignant at times, changing the rules and demanding they be followed and most Conservatives LOVE playing the victim card. Insecurity, reaction, blame & shame. Problems are ALWAYS someone else's fault. They don't care because it doesn't matter. You're either a winner or loser and when I win? You will most certainly lose and FREEDOM? Is conditional, depending on how I feel that day. Honestly? One is almost as bad as the other.

Pierre Poilievre is a career politician who has said that career politicians shouldn't exist. $300K+/year, taxpayer funded 19 room mansion - chauffeur, billing $20K+ daily in expenses ($10M+ per year). Rage politics, clickbait slogans, fear-mongering. Axe the Tax (no climate plan - doesn't matter). Sound familiar?

Very quiet on Trump. Why do you think he doesn't want to talk about it?
All I ask is that you seriously ponder that before voting, and really look.

POILIEVRE'S NO VOTE to: 

• $10-a-day childcare
• Dental care for kids & seniors
• Pharmacare
• School lunch program for kids
• Canada Child Benefit (CCB)
• LGBTQ2+ protections
• Banning conversion therapy
• Indigenous reconciliation
• Affordable housing
• Renters’ rights
• Veterans supports
• Equal pay for men & women
• Minimum wage increase

Epilogue:

I already know that none of this will sway the bulk of Canadian Conservatives who have already made up their minds and that's ok. Conclusions suggesting we're in trouble if we vote for Pierre Poilievre are for those who are still contemplating. Yes lots of problems either way but way more in those dark clouds on our southern horizon, moving closer. Our sovereignty, independence, way of life and our entire system of governance is being threatened. Most cannot fathom how Canada will change should we allow it but I can promise, we would deeply regret it after the fact, just like millions of MAGA voters are right now 6 months later. What did we do? Too late? Not yet! We are still a democracy. Let's keep it that way.

Is there a God? I believe there IS - only he is not out there. He is inside every one of us.

Vote with your hearts, instincts and unique insights. Vote for what feels right for YOU!

THE 51st STATE

w/Fear N Loathing 25

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CHERRY BLOSSOM GIRL - 1965

The thing the sixties did
was to show us the possibilities and the responsibility
that we all had. It wasn't the answer.
It just gave us a glimpse of the possibility.

John Lennon

watch the video/remix - Cherry Blossom Girl - bottom

The End of the Innocence

I can’t even imagine what it must have been like to be a single 30 year old in the U.K. in 1965. Zero friends. Looking into her oval mirror and wondering what it would be like to BE one of them, you know - younger, prettier girls who they fall in love with. Like Paul McCartney’s girlfriend/lover. Making out in a darkened nightclub booth with Mick Jagger or Alain Delon.

The thought stirring shivers … still alone.
Dreaming. 

circa 1944 - Dad - G.J. (Jim) LaMarche (center)

Black & White - Hayley Mills

Mom left Dad in 1966, with a bigger picture in mind and it was devastating to this 10 year old, whilst simultaneously watching the world modulate. There were remnants of a world war still lingering; a dusty aftermath. Woodstock Ontario was very conservative/still is - an unwavering intransigence that persists 70 years later even in those in their 20's/30's now. In the 60's half liked it way better before this wave of liberalism changed everything. Long hair on boys and girls wearing short skirts and speaking their minds? Mom was 32 - in the prime of her life, before she moved out and took us kids too. Dad was toxic, damaged. Out to prove something to those who didn’t care. Men back then just had certain expectations, especially on their wives. A duty to comply. That said, most men got what they wanted. Submission.

Movies, music and attitudes were changing. A quantum shift. OK. Hayley? She killed it. That informed androgyny about to blossom into a beautiful woman. She was older but we were one in the same. Gender was irrelevant other than an overwhelming attraction to the opposite sex. Sexuality was abundantly heterosexual. That said, homosexuality was a hidden non issue to anyone under 30 - like it didn’t matter. Hidden only because those who didn't subscribe to the times saw them as freaks. Puberty was just a word that I had no clue about but the rumblings of something big was right around the corner. A feeling.

The Beatles - Ed Sullivan Show - February 09, 1964

Relevance

On Sunday February 09/64 at 8:02pm it all rotated. It was like everything just got that bit brighter and sharper on my screen; that 12 inch black & white portable TV in my Dad’s office on 980 Sloane Street where I saw the Beatles for the first time. Not just a 'fad' either. It was frikkin' epic! Adults/parents are like, what’s this nonsense? - while everyone under 30 was on fire; sensing an eruption that would transform everything for the better. A permanence that defied established norms brought to us by four mop-tops from Liverpool.

So it was 1965 that I would like to suggest that the world actually changed. Rubber Soul. Vietnam war, the voting rights act, an awakening in America’s youth. A distinct marker or separation between US & THEM, when all of a sudden, people started thinking differently. A new polarization between Conservatives and Liberals; the old way versus the new way that lasted for decades. Older conservative thinkers were 'squares' contrasting the more circular movement of progressive minds, younger/hipper. There was a growing anxiety amongst stoic thinkers that one may just eclipse the other that continues to this day. 

I mean I’d heard ‘I Want to Hold Your Hand’ and ‘She Loves You’ on the radio but seeing them perform live on TV was earth shattering. Mom was stuck in the middle. In a rut of a relationship with a man who wanted her to keep quiet and stay put, and a tsunami of liberation launched by those younger and more alive. Relevance. It makes total sense to me now why she had to step out and make a life for herself. The word suffocation comes to mind. Life is about more than being the good wife who looks and acts accordingly. 

A Hard Day’s Night then HELP was a must see on the big screen followed by 'To Sir With Love' where high school white girls fall in love with their black teacher played by Sidney Poitier was a massive blockbuster that transcended the boundaries of race and tolerance, elevating everyone’s awareness while pissing off millions of sceptics determined to preserve their way of life - threatened by change. Becoming open to new ideas was the hallmark of a new humanity focussing on equality, diversity and acceptance for a growing population embracing peace.

Hayley Mills

Epilogue:

The struggle continues. The tug of war in a push-pull entanglement of opinions and values. Some new, some old and all still gasping for air.

I often think of her and wonder what it was like back then. That spark of inspiration that carried her forward into the unknown, knowing it was something she had to do despite the obvious setbacks. In a new world full of possibilities. Jumping. Taking the plunge.

Risking everything for life and love. 

For Pansy

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jimlamarche.ca

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HOME

 

Home is the place where, when you have to go back, 
they just take you in.

Robert Frost

Sudbury, 1959

One of these days, these boots ...

In 69 years; I’ve lived in 28 places. mostly rentals (even now). Some for a few months, some for a year or more. All (ok most) temporary.
 

For me, parents? Have very little to do with home. Ya - another story for a different day; turbulent. We were mobile; A default. Pack yer shit. Get ready to go. Dad drifting from job to job, skipping rent for a month and bolting. The early 60’s was way cool if you were a kid.  Not so as an adult. Mom & Dad were miserable. Unfaithful. Impotent. These boots are made for walkin’ (Nancy Sinatra ’66). Mom walked that October, 4 months after that song was released. It's not something small town Canadian wives did then. Modern woman - enough bullshit. Little tip for all you guys out there who think you got it all figured out ... you don't.

In the years before and after, moving again & again, month to month never knowing - it sucked. Different schools, different kids. Never time to make friends before moving again. I’m thinking Mom and Dad's relationship was fertile earlier on, then a burden; pain in the ass. Being unsettled? It’s in my nature. So when I see 90%+ of those living on this planet still - in the same place as I was? I feel lucky. 

519 Edward Street, Woodstock, 1963

Sont les mots qui vont tres bien ensemble

In quieter times, Sunday afternoon drives around Woodstock Ontario was a thing we did in the early 60s. Just cruising around, looking at stuff. Fun. Fresh air. In fall ’65, Lester B. Pearson was our Prime Minister. Some voted Liberal and some Conservative but essentially we were one in the same. I vividly remember the four of us in our yellow '63 Chevrolet Impala driving east on Henry Street with Michelle by the Beatles on CKOX radio and Dad saying ‘I love this song’. WTF. Dad saying he likes a Beatles song? No way. It was like a rare awakening/surrender, like the world was becoming liberated, even Dad. I was astounded. Mom a bit surprised. Mom felt like home for a short time after she left him. Dad was never even close to home; abused and abusive - drinker. I lived for my distractions … Looney Tunes on Sat. mornings kept me sane. My younger brother David was a buffer (and he would say the same about me). All good. A serious appreciation with what was coming. Later (ok now).

Those thick black clouds on the horizon moving in incrementally.

Pointe Aux Roches

I’d seen them before as a child. Our home is at risk of calamity, disrepair. That little bit closer each day. Watching. Worried? Na. Concerned? Definitely. A shit-storm unlike anything I’ve ever seen. The distractions continue … a new blog post.  Born into a Canadian winter in northern Ontario has it’s perks in preparation for the blast to come.

 

First Sudbury, London/Woodstock - Toronto, and out in the boonies earlier on (Stoney Point/Pointe Aux Roches) - Essex county was desolate, from ages 11-16 (Lake St. Clair/Windsor) with very little real human contact.  Writing and finishing my remix trilogy/Temple Redux mostly now, documenting my journey. Mom saved me in my late teens. Toronto was eventful. An amazing daughter with her own challenges. It’s all good. Prolific, settled and relaxed. Retired now in 2025. Living through the prime of my life (70s, 80s, 90s) in Canada was essentially winning the lottery.

In 28 places … I’ve lived in 2 homes. Both in Woodstock Ontario Canada. Houses on lots - where magic happened/happens. A continuation.

Sudbury, 1957

Home is where the heart is 

It’s all cyclical. Look at the patterns and it’s not really that difficult to see that when we forget, we repeat. Whole nationalities have no idea what HOME is. In the millennia of their scattered evolution and broken dreams, they can’t even describe it, because they’ve never felt it, been there. What home might feel like is just an idea that they’re still fighting for. Desperate for some sense of it. Most humans now have no idea what being settled and secure feels like. I am fortunate. So many are too even though they don’t show it. Rampant entitlement prevails especially in the west. Entire countries further east having no idea what home is.

Take Israel. They’re still recovering from half a century of humiliation and physical torture/death and a legacy of hyper-reaction in defence - to this day! Ok, I have serious issues around genocide in any way shape and form BUT!  I did not live through that, like they did. Am I angry at them? Yes. Can I blame them? No. Greed spawns hatred that continues to spin generations later. As long as we continue depriving those who we think don't deserve what we have, shall we provoke reaction and resentment. What goes around, comes around.

Overture, Curtains, Lights

We are all in this together. Trump is a symptom not the disease and MAGA is just a reaction to unfettered Capitalism spiralling into chaos going way back. Worse? Absolutely. Necessary? Most of us now believe it is. Greed has no ideology and no remorse. Democrats and Liberals are as much to blame for enabling the billionaire class and protecting wealth. Joe Biden had 4 years to correct our course and prevent the crash and he didn't. Fascism is always the bastard child of a bankrupt liberalism. If democracy cannot exist amicably then maybe we should put it out of it's misery is now the mantra of tens of millions who voted for this massive shift stateside and the millions poised to do the same here later this year. Sad, only in that it just makes it all so much worse. Now, it no longer matters what's true but what's correct in the service of those who matter. Those not subscribing are expendable. A new 'elite' that will eclipse the old, endorsed and enabled by the masses desperate for change, having no idea what they have unleashed. Like it doesn't matter. Are we suicidal? I'm thinking yes. 

In this expanding social inequality and steady erosion of our democratic institutions media, congress, organized labour, academia and the courts leading to an authoritarian christian/fascist state, there is this unsettled alienation purposely designed to distract and withdraw. Corporate Christianity is a marriage between Godzilla and Frankenstein. Unthinkable and yet - here we are - staring into the dark lair of the beast while he watches back in silence, unseen. Maybe I need to get back to safety.

Epilogue: Golden Years

Home is not about owning a house or having possessions others don’t have. Brick & mortar with your name on it does not make it home. My first home was on Edward Street in Woodstock after we moved in w/my deaf grandmother Mona in 1960. I was 4. When I walked into that modest, dark two story Victorian, I just knew that this was home. That musty musky smell, surrounding trees … HER. No, home was her. Grandma Batho. Simple, silent, resilient/fragile and loving. That was the combination that made it home for me. No partisan patriots, no judicial gerrymandering, no mass media manipulations. Just parents going through a rough patch and needing a place to live for awhile; Dad unemployed again. 

God, this feels good!

In my golden years, I’m back in Woodstock and live in a turn of the century renovated Victorian that reminds me of her. My second real home now in 69 years. I live alone with my cat Tippy (that I'm convinced is a reincarnation of Mona) and it feels the same. I’ve learned that it’s all about appreciating this moment. What has been and what will be are just faint echoes of the here and now, ringing truer and truer.

Because I’m home.

Nancy Sinatra, These Boots Are Made for Walkin'

1966

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