Tyler Colins's Blog, page 66
July 1, 2018
Kinda Corny, Kinda Cute
I’m in need of some cuteness again . . . given it seems in limited supply (and demand) right now.
So-o . . . what about that animated commercial with the strumming and singing beaver? It’s kinda corny, but it’s kinda cute. The starring beavers are just plain appealing and even the song is kinda fun and catchy.
It also delivers a valid message: for those of us who have cottages and/or opportunities to boat and fish, be aware of hydro-dams and stations. In other words: stay safe.
Stay Clear, Stay Safe – A Cautionary Tale, was made for the Ontario Power Generation (by an agency called The Hive), and is aimed at Canadians. Basically, it revolves around Dammy the Beaver trying to catch a fish when his boat capsizes. Oh no! Poor Dammy. Does he die? Tell us it ain’t so!?
You’ll just have to watch it to see what happens. 
June 24, 2018
Innocence ReFound
Ambling to the gym this gray-misty morning, I sighted a crumpled, crinkled Disney-themed wading pool at the side of the road. What great summer fun it must have provided.
It prompted thoughts of innocent times . . . how the smallest, littlest, tiniest of items could prompt smiles and laughter . . . how we, as children, found pleasure in the simplest things . . .
. . . A sandbox, pail and shovel. A scooter. Marshmallow strawberries. The neighbor’s water hose. A shiny quarter. Hopscotch and skipping. Crayons and paper. Pen and notebook. A doll. Home-baked cookies. Store-bought treats. A rainbow. A cat, a kitty. A dog, a poochie. Hamsters and mice, and even rats. Everything cute and/or curious.
How wonderful to view the world with child-like purity, cheer, and optimism. And how delightful it would be if we could forever maintain that outlook (some do, I imagine, and how blessed they are).
If only even for a few moments, it was awesome returning to a long-gone past and recalling times that seemed special . . . to view life through young eyes . . . to feel like a kid who’d just found the prize in a box of Cracker Jack and then got to indulge in the yummy sweet peanut-popcorn treat.
Here’s to embracing simplicity and reclaiming innocence. 
June 16, 2018
Party Poopers & Pooper Poopers
No one likes party poopers—those people who spoil other people’s fun by making disparaging comments and/or not joining in. Also known as wet blankets, they can get rather annoying.
Poopers is a cute little way of saying “damn it”, “crap”, “darn”. I believe I actually used it back when. Now, of course, I go for the “%$@%!!^@#”, loudly and in abundance, particularly when it comes to technology and things start going wonky; ask anyone sitting around me when I’m using the laptop. <LOL>
But what’s with the poop word? I’m not sure if it’s the sound of it or the image it conveys, but it’s simply not cute or nice—not in any size, shape, or form. Literally. It’s doggy do, for heaven’s sake. Okay, it can be kitty or any other creature’s do, too.
What's with the sudden fascination? The other day, I drove past a place called the “Poop Café”. Guess what imagery the signage exhibited? Yeah. Like really? I’d ask who’d want to eat there, but the patrons seated by the lengthy window counter answered that question. Silly me!
And what’s with commercials hawking p-related products? They attempt to be cute and/or funny, but personally, I find they lean toward offensive.
Times have changed and it’s great that we can openly discuss hygiene and health issues, and once-upon-a-time taboo topics. To a point. Some things, however—like the p stuff—should remain off limits. . . . It’s just poopin' wrong.
If that opinion makes me a party pooper, so be it.
June 9, 2018
Bummed Out
I prefer to avoid negative posts, but sometimes, well, they’re simply unavoidable. So you have to roll with it.
Anthony Bourdain’s death came as a complete shock. In simple terms: it bummed me out. Not only had he left this mortal coil, he’d done it of his own volition.
It goes to show that you truly never know what’s going on in someone’s head and heart. To watch him on TV, you’d have thought he was happy, that the enthusiasm and zest for life were real (because they were certainly infectious). The man with the “fearless spirit” had it all (what so many of us wish we had): celebrity status and success, family and friends (in abundance), intelligence and humility, a love of adventure (and the ability to pursue it). And yet, he took his own life—a permanent solution to a temporary problem (as Rose McGowan, a friend of Bourdain’s girlfriend stated).
Perhaps we’ll never know the truth as to what drove the renowned gent to this tragic end, but the internal anguish must have been so extreme, there was only one foreseeable solution. If only . . . if only . . . if only. A phrase we’ve heard often, yet will hear time after time.
Éric Ripert, his closest friend, called him “an exceptional human being so inspiring and generous” and “one of the great storytellers of our time”. This Anthony Bourdain indeed was . . . and more.
Rest in peace, AB, rest in peace. You’ll be missed.
May 26, 2018
Dog-Gone Cute
You know I’m a stickler for “cute”. As I haven’t posted in the [long] last while about anything c-u-t-e, it’s time.
Did ya hear the one about . . . ? <LOL> Fred, a 10-year-old Labrador residing in Merry Old, adopted nine ducklings. Apparently, the fluffy little darlings were found on the grounds of Mountfitchet Castle, with no mother to be seen anywhere.
Dear Fred accepted them as if they were his own offspring and they’ve accepted him as Dear Dad. They cuddle with him and ride on his back. Proud Dad even takes them to the moat so they can swim.
I understand the castle serves as home to many rescued animals. Cheers to you, Mountfitchet . . . and you, Jeremy Goldsmith, Fred’s owner!
What a gosh-dog-darn great tail, er, tale.
May 20, 2018
A Great Time Had by All
The big happy news of the week/weekend for many across the globe: the Royal Wedding. Though not one for pomp and pageantry, I must confess that I really wanted to watch this ceremony—from start to finish. And this, I can happily state, I indeedy-do did.
I arose at 2:00 a.m. and hastened to the gym to complete the usual gym workout, rushed home (donuts and coffees in hand, er, car), and was in front of the TV for 5:00. Nailed it. With time to spare.
The entire event was a pleasure to watch. Meghan Markle, now Duchess of Sussex, looked stunning, happy and radiant. Prince Harry, poor fellow, appeared nervous and overly serious. The church service was amazing and very uplifting, with the highlight for me being the sermon. Delivered by American preacher Michael Bruce Curry, it proved stirring and thought-provoking. 
I’m still thinking, reliving yesterday. The well for yours truly had been dry for a while now, but the wedding replenished it with hope and faith. Dreams and fairy tales can come true. Of course I’ll never marry Prince Charming or share so much money I could literally burn it, but I once again believe that good [miraculous] things can and do happen. It’s all about waiting (also known as being patient) and maintaining conviction (embracing belief and trust in an entity greater than ourselves). Amen.
May 13, 2018
Mom's Day
Taking Mom out today for lunch. In essence, our roles have reversed; I’ve become the Mom and she the daughter. Life’s funny sometimes . . . and it’s all good.
Although I’ve probably read about it at one time or another, I can’t say I know (recall) the origin of this particular day. So I took a gander.
Apparently, it’s been around for a long time—the concept can be found going back in the days of ancient Greeks and Romans. Festivals honored Rhea (Greek) and Cybele (Roman), mother goddesses.
An early Christian celebration was called “Mothering Sunday”, observed by Catholics and Protestants in various parts of Europe. It was once observed as a day where people would visit their “mother” church (16th century onward) for a special service, and served to honor mothers and give them presents.
With time, Mothering Sunday became more worldly and children gave gifts, such as flowers, to their beloved moms. American Mother’s Day, however, was actually founded by social activist Anna Jarvis in 1908 (her tale is a fascinating one and I urge you to check it out when the opportunity avails itself). It became an official holiday in 1914.
Hoped you enjoyed the ultra-brief history lesson for today. <LOL> May your Mother’s Day be a truly joyous one!
May 6, 2018
The Journey: Still Chug-Chug-Chugging Along
Been awhile since I’ve posted about Mom and me. That’s because nothing’s happened . . . which is very good.
Mom is fairly alert. Yes, she’s slow to move, but still capable of doing a lot. She’s very proud of her word searches and coloring; so am I. Short-term memory is sketchy, but at 91, it is what it is. Overall, she’s doing amazingly well.
Funny, life. It chugs along so quickly. One day you’re 20 and thinking the whole world truly lies ahead of you; the next you’re 50 and thinking, where’d the years go!? The mirror will definitely attest to the fact I’m getting older but, you know, my heart and soul seem forever young, much like Mom’s do.
It’s all good, this journeying. It’s a perpetual exploration—and discovery—of self and others. We learn and develop, mature, and become wiser.
Here’s hoping I’ll be tootin’ along as well as Mom when I’m her age.
April 29, 2018
The Budding Grown-Up
<LMAO> You think it’ll never happen to you, then one day you wake up realizing it has—you’ve become the grown-up you vowed you’d never be.
Things I might have accepted and embraced decades ago now seem silly, unrewarding, or just plain wrong.
The legalization of pot? Like, really? We don’t have enough drug- and drink-related accidents and deaths? I’ll admit that once upon a time, I smoked it. It seemed okay to feel “fi-ine” back then. Now, I prefer the feeling of “re-eal”. Yeah, I’ve grown up.
Dancing and/or being out on the town to dawn? Loved it then; wouldn’t consider it now (don’t think I could do it if I tried). There’s nothing more awesome than watching the sun rise—with alert eyes and an energetic soul. Yeah, I’ve grown up.
Clothes tastes are personal, but some of the things the “younger generation” are wearing leave me cold. The “like really?” slips from my lips like butter from roasted corn. Undoubtedly, I created similar reactions when I sported “stylish” attire in my youth, items my parents and folks over a certain age considered unfathomable as “fashion”. This from a former, long-time Gothy Girl. <LOL> Yeah, I’ve grown up.
Music? Gotta confess (see previous post)—I love bubbly, catchy K-pop. I could listen to it for hours on end. The other current “hit” / “hip” stuff leaves me cold as an Artic winter. Don’t get it; don’t want to. Yeah, I’ve grown up.
Can’t play the rah-rah game at work anymore. Worked to the age of 40-45. Don’t have the optimism that comes with starting a new job or hoping to work for an organization for another decade or two. Some might call it being tainted; I prefer to call it being seasoned. Yeah, I’ve grown up.
It’s all part of the process—the evolution of life. And it’s all good . . . long as I [continue to] grow up and not old . . . and don’t start tsking and wagging fingers. <ROTFL> 
April 23, 2018
Whadya Do When it Ain’t Happening?
Writers and bloggers suffer from occasional “writer’s block”—unable to conceive of what to write or post. We’re in limbo, in an uncertain state. Nothing’s coming to mind; nothing’s happening. <groan>
That’s me this week re posting. I’m experiencing a “duh” moment (okay, maybe a few). So what do we do when we’re having a duh moment (or maybe a few)? We get over it! We suck it up and move on.
I’ve written on writer’s block previously, but given I’m experiencing it . . . hey, I just thought of something to post about! Ideas that could help us progress beyond [irritating] stagnation.
We can:
take a walk (love that, especially on such a stunning sun-shiny day)
remove all diversions (no, don't throw Kitty out, but you may want to turn down the volume)
get moving, be active (like taking that walk or going to the gym, or jumping up and down—with joy)
do something fun and distracting (take Rover to the park, eat a treat, smell the flowers)
move into another room/area/environment
read a book or listen to music
do some journaling
get involved in something creative (like coloring, knitting, cooking, sandblasting, whatever floats your boat)
exchange emails/texts with someone, a fellow blogger or writer perhaps (to get some inspiration or motivation)
brainstorm (jot down anything and everything that comes to mind).
The list could go on, but you get the idea—step away and do something. A break is a very good thing.
