Michael Robert Dyet's Blog, page 64

Nonstop on the 24-7 Millennial Train

Apologies in advance to Millennials from a diehard and secretly envious Boomer who is firmly planted on the other side of the generational divide.

Hmmm, what happens if the 24-7 Millennial train hits a curve too fast and goes off the tracks?

We hear a lot about the multiple generations in society today – Boomers, Gen X, Gen Y Aka Millennials and Gen Z – and the distinct differences between them. Today I read that Millennials (18 – 34 year olds) are twice as likely as Boomers to cite “availability 24-7” as the most important thing that brands can do to engage them.

I am not surprised by that fact. Millennials often appear to be attached at the hip to their wireless devices. I envision them going into severe withdrawal (convulsions, hyperventilating, eyes rolling back in their heads) if their devices fail and they have no back up. Even I, a reluctant digital immigrant, get hot under the collar when my internet connection drops.

But I wonder about the implications of willfully living in a 24-7 world. Personally speaking, with every passing day I need more off-line, unplugged, in my own little world stretches of time. My brain needs to shift into neutral and regenerate in order for me to face the rat race another day.

(Truth be told, I needed a generous helping of down time even when I was in the 18 to 34 age bracket. But that is a true confession for another day.)

I can accept that the Millennial brain is wired radically differently than mine. Evolution dictates that our mind and body adapt to the circumstances of our environment. We either evolve or perish. Living in an always-connected world means that the Millennial brain must be hyperlinked, so to speak, in an infinite variety of ways.

But I fear that at some point the 24-7 Millennial train will hit a curve too fast and derail in spectacular fashion. It will be akin to the internet crashing worldwide – a coast to coast, continent to continent, cerebral blackout.

Admittedly, my concern may be rooted in the fear that there will be no digital natives available to resuscitate my computer when a virus or malware program renders it unusable.

The 24-7 nonstop train may be the defining metaphor for the Millennial generation. But it seems to me that it is a double-edged metaphor that will eventually demand payment – and the price will indeed be steep.

~ Michael Robert Dyet is the author of “Until the Deep Water Stills – An Internet-enhanced Novel” – double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’s website at www.mdyetmetaphor.com or the novel online companion at www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog .

~ Subscribe to “Michael’s Metaphors of Life Journal aka Things That Make Me Go Hmmm” at its’ internet home www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2 . Instructions for subscribing are provided in the “Subscribe to this Blog: How To” instructions page in the right sidebar. If you’re reading this post on another social networking site, come back regularly to my page for postings once a week.

A Virtual Winter Getaway: Winged Creatures Reborn

Hmmm, what would I do without the snapshots of wondrous winged creatures that brighten up these long winter days which so test my patience?

It is around this time of year, in the midst of a January deep freeze, that I begin to count the days until nature emerges from its winter slumber. It seems I am not the only one as there is a “My Countdown” website with a live, digital countdown until the first day of spring. As of this moment, it is 53 days, 3 hours and 56 minutes.

In the meantime, I resort to my collection of butterfly photographs from last summer to escape the cold and snow and the lingering aftermath of the epic December ice storm.

The American Lady butterfly perched delicately on a purple Everlasting wildflower is a good place to start. The two large eyespots on the outer wing, flanked by a splattering of pink, gaze owl-like at me if I twist my head to just the right angle. The rusted orange of the forewing, giving way to white-spotted black wingtips, recalls the warmth of the summer sun on my face.

Next I stop at the elegant specimen of a Gray Comma which I found at secret hot spot I choose to keep to myself. It was obviously newly emerged as the gracefully scalloped wing edges, highlighted by the soft yellow spot band, were picture perfect. It reclined so cooperatively, on a curling green leaf, for me to take its’ picture – as if it knew even then I would need to savour its subtle graces a few months down the line.

And, of course, I cannot pass by the striking image of a Great Spangled Fritillary posing so nonchalantly on a purple flower. No other creature boasts such an audacious explosion of orange. The rippling black ridges and white checkerboard wing edges complete the portrait of a winged beauty that knows no equal in these parts.

Hairstreak butterflies, a rare find, are always a delight. I recall precisely the location I flushed this specimen from the tall grass off a boardwalk. It is the antithesis of the Fritillary with its soft beige colouring streaked with splotchy, white edged spots and faint orange bars at the edges. Hairstreaks remind me that beauty is not always extravagant.

The White Admiral intergrade – the result of White Admirals mating with their Red-spotted Purple cousins – reminds me that even nature decides to be creative now and then. This cross-breed, boasting a flashy white band between clusters of orange cells, is certainly a successful experiment.

A Silver-spotted Skipper dashing about a meadow brightens up many days when it has otherwise been slim pickings. This one is ideally perched on a purple wildflower (hmmm, I detect a pattern here) to show off its bright white and amber patches on a tree-trunk brown wing.

I have many cold and gray winter days to endure yet before nature rouses itself and turns the corner to the more leisurely seasons. My butterfly photos are snapshots in time – metaphors for the exuberance and extravagance of scorching July days – to assure me that summer will come once again if I am patient.

Patience, as I have said many times, is not my strong suit. But I will endure. I know the wait is more than worth it. I treasure July days all the more for the winter months that separate me from them for a season.

~ Michael Robert Dyet is the author of “Until the Deep Water Stills – An Internet-enhanced Novel” – double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’s website at www.mdyetmetaphor.com or the novel online companion at www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog .

~ Subscribe to “Michael’s Metaphors of Life Journal aka Things That Make Me Go Hmmm” at its’ internet home www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2 . Instructions for subscribing are provided in the “Subscribe to this Blog: How To” instructions page in the right sidebar. If you’re reading this post on another social networking site, come back regularly to my page for postings once a week.

Leaving Regrets Behind on a Road of My Choosing

Hmmm, am I getting old and irrelevant or simply getting more in tune with where I truly belong?

Much of the time – in this rapid-fire, blink and you are a step behind, helter-skelter modern age – my consciousness is fully occupied with trying to keep from becoming obsolete. It is all I can manage to get to the end of the day without being thrown off the treadmill.

But once and a while, in a quiet moment when I catch my breath, it dawns on me that I am 55 years old. How I got to that age is a mystery. I am half convinced that I passed through a time vortex and skipped twenty years without realizing it.

My body is well aware of my age. It reminds me on occasion that its parts are not as well-oiled as they used to be. Slipping on a patch of ice brings an “Oh no!” instead of the “Wheeee!” response from my younger days.

My brain is of two minds. (Pardon the pun.) One the one hand, the messages (complaints) it receives from certain body parts leaves little room for doubt. But there is a part of my gray matter that persists in believing that I am still young, agile and invulnerable.

I suppose that clash of beliefs is inevitable. None of us want to admit that we are losing a step or two. There are so many things we planned to do but somehow did not find the opportunity to accomplish.

Those regrets have rather sharp edges. In a way, they are like the tracking cookies that the virus protection program finds on my computer. Subtle reminders of slightly risky paths I did not find the time or courage to venture down despite the potential rewards they might have offered.

I find myself at a point where I am less ambitious and more inclined to look for quiet, out of the way places to rest. It is not that I have no dreams or desires left. It is just that my desires are simpler and found closer to home than in my younger days.

It seems that the “slipping on a patch of ice” metaphor has mutated. Where it once represented excitement, it now more often signals caution and a reason to pause and reflect. There is a part of me that struggles with that mutation and wishes it had not happened. But that conflict is gradually resolving itself.

I am not finished with taking risks. There are still times when I choose the uncertain road. But the reason for doing so is now to find those out of the way places where I can relax and commune with the simpler pleasures.

The helter-skelter world charges onward to places I no longer feel I need to go. If that means I am becoming less relevant, it is a compromise I am willing to make. I would rather be relevant and true to my own soul for therein, I have come to believe, lies the secret of happiness.

~ Michael Robert Dyet is the author of “Until the Deep Water Stills – An Internet-enhanced Novel” – double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’s website at www.mdyetmetaphor.com or the novel online companion at www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog .

~ Subscribe to “Michael’s Metaphors of Life Journal aka Things That Make Me Go Hmmm” at its’ internet home www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2 . Instructions for subscribing are provided in the “Subscribe to this Blog: How To” instructions page in the right sidebar. If you’re reading this post on another social networking site, come back regularly to my page for postings once a week.

 

Facing into the Wind Heading for Open Water

Hmmm, can a compressed spinal nerve have a silver lining?

I’ve been offline, literally and figuratively, for a couple of weeks riding out a major episode with my chronic back condition. Those of you with back problems will be nodding your head, grimacing and thinking: Been there.

If your condition involves nerve impingement, you’ve probably come to fear that sharp, stabbing pain shooting across the low back as the muscles go into spasm. You know you’ll wake up the next morning with that agonizing, “Please God, kill me now” pain every time you move.

As I get older and (hopefully) wiser, I try to find a silver lining or a lesson in the misfortunes I encounter. Admittedly, I was not thinking that way in the first few days when I was twisted like a pretzel and waiting for the pain medications to kick in.

A change in the weather here was the impetus for turning my thoughts in the right direction. A mild spell, after a few days of deep freeze temperatures, resulted in a dense blanket of fog that hung around until early afternoon. When the fog finally cleared and the world outside my 18th floor window re-emerged, I realized it had mirrored my experience.

Too often I permit myself to slip into a paint by the numbers, going through the motions approach to life. I was in that state of mind when the episode with my back happened. It was a short trip from there to being hunkered down on my couch in a fog of negativity.

Why me? Why always me? How long is this going to last? It could be weeks or even a month or two. The timing could not be worse. This is screwing up everything.

Now that I’m back on my feet and mostly recovered, I realize that two weeks is a small price to pay to be reminded how fortunate I am to have the life that I do. I had been rolling along in a fog of complacency not much thinking about where I was headed.

Silver linings often come disguised as metaphors we have to unravel. Perhaps that shooting pain across the low back, and the two weeks of convalescing that followed, was a shot across my bow to inspire me to raise the sails and plot a more exciting course.

Life only gets interesting when we turn our face to the wind and head for open water. The shoreline will always be there to retreat to when we need it. But wonders and spectacles are waiting just over the horizon. Such a pity not to go seeking them.

~ Michael Robert Dyet is the author of “Until the Deep Water Stills – An Internet-enhanced Novel” – double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’s website at www.mdyetmetaphor.com or the novel online companion at www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog .

~ Subscribe to “Michael’s Metaphors of Life Journal aka Things That Make Me Go Hmmm” at its’ internet home www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2 . Instructions for subscribing are provided in the “Subscribe to this Blog: How To” instructions page in the right sidebar. If you’re reading this post on another social networking site, come back regularly to my page for postings once a week.

Scrooged: An Attitude of Gratitude

Hmmm, as Christmas approaches, I realize there is more reason than ever to check my petty grievances at the door of my good fortune.

Last Sunday morning, as I started my car to go to church, that annoying “check engine” light came on. I cursed under my breath and did what we all do when that happens. I turned off the car, crossed my fingers and turned it back on hoping that the problem would just go away.

My wish was granted – no light. I thought I was off the hook. But wishful thinking seldom holds up. About 30 seconds later, the irritating light came back on as if to mock me for my naiveté. And then the griping began.

That’s just great! I’ll have to go to the dealership tomorrow morning. What crappy timing! I have an advertisement that has to be completed and submitted tomorrow and an afternoon meeting I can’t miss. I’ll get in late and my whole day will be stressful trying to catch up.

And my car just rolled over the 100,000 kilometre mark so the warranty is done. What are the odds? Why couldn’t that damn light have come on 400 kilometres earlier?

Then a little voice in my head piped up.

Hold on here. Before you go griping any more, take a deep breath and look at the bigger picture. Would you rather this happened next week on Christmas Eve? Then you wouldn’t be able to get to your father’s place for Christmas.

I had to grudgingly admit that the timing, while inconvenient and frustrating, could have been worse. But I was still ticked off that my Monday would be messed up.

And while I’ve got your attention, you’re always going off on anti-technology rants. But aren’t you glad that someone figured out a way to tell you there is a problem before your car breaks down on the highway?

It was tough not to concede that point. The technology behind the “check engine” light is certainly something to applaud. However, I still felt entitled to bitch a little.

Not ready to get off your gripe platform yet? Well, don’t you feel blessed that you earn a good standard of living and can afford a car? Admit it, when you drive by those people shivering in the bus shelters, you’re grateful you’re not one of them.

The little voice was becoming annoying now because it was spoiling my perfectly good Scrooge impersonation. I was unwilling to entirely surrender my self-righteous point of view.

Going down swinging, are you? Do I need to point out how fortunate you are that you have good health that allows you to keep the good job that allows you to have the car that keeps you out of the cold on winter mornings? Can I rest my case now?

I finally conceded that the “check engine” light was an apt, albeit slightly irritating, metaphor for the fact that my blessings are many and my misfortunes few. It was time to check my “Why is this happening to me?” refrain and replace it with an attitude of gratitude for all that I have in a world where so many are much less fortunate than I.

~ Michael Robert Dyet is the author of “Until the Deep Water Stills – An Internet-enhanced Novel” – double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’s website at www.mdyetmetaphor.com or the novel online companion at www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog .

~ Subscribe to “Michael’s Metaphors of Life Journal aka Things That Make Me Go Hmmm” at its’ internet home www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2 . Instructions for subscribing are provided in the “Subscribe to this Blog: How To” instructions page in the right sidebar. If you’re reading this post on another social networking site, come back regularly to my page for postings once a week.

Octocopters, Early Adopters and the Worm in the Bottle

Hmmm, is technology about to cross the invisible line between enabling us to live better and disabling our ability to earn our living?

If you’re a fan of the television show The Big Bang Theory, you’ll remember this episode. Leonard, Sheldon, Howard and Raj send a signal via the Internet around the world and back again to turn on the lights in their apartment. When asked by Penny why they would so such a thing, Leonard replies simply: “Because we can.”

The because we can school of thought makes for good comedy. But I’m beginning to think that its practical application in our lifetime has pushed the envelope a bit too far.

Case in point #1. Canada Post (for my U.S. readers, Canada Post is the crown agency that operates the national postal service) has been bleeding red ink for years because of declining volumes of snail mail. Communication methods via digital channels are pulling the rug out from under the agency.

Canada Post execs have come up with a five point action plan to return the agency to solvency. One of the five points is, no surprise, “addressing the cost of labour”. The agency has reduced its workforce by 18% since 2008 and expects to reduce it by another 10% in the next 10 years. These percentages are daunting given that Canada Post employs approximately 68,000 people.

Digital technologies have made amazing strides in streamlining our communications. But I have to wonder: At what price? Is lightning fast communication so important that it warrants putting thousands of people out of work?

Pundits will argue that the jobs are not disappearing but rather shifting to the highly skilled technology field. But even casual observers can see the worm in that bottle of mescal. I am willing to bet my left arm that there is a ratio of at least 3 to 1 in the equation – i.e. for every three jobs that disappear, one high tech job is created.

Case in point #2. The CEO of Amazon is reported to be working on a way to use small aircraft – self-guided drones – to get parcels to customers in 30 minutes or less. These octocopters will not need humans to operate them. (Read more job losses.) Each one will receive a set of GPS co-ordinates and automatically fly to the designated location.

Flight technology apparently makes this radical vision feasible within five years. Working out the logistics, including the need for the U.S. Federal Aviation Administration to create new rules and regulations, will likely push the go-live date out a bit further for those early adopters already waiting in line.

Again, I have to ask: Is 30 minute delivery for books and CDs that important?

Technology mavens will always fall back on the because we can rationale for forever pushing forward our horizons. But I would counter argue that in more than a few cases, when we add up all the pluses and minuses, we end up in the red.

The Amazon octocopters are a fitting metaphor for technology that has raced ahead of and beyond human need. It is time for wiser minds to stand up and say: Yes, we can. But perhaps we shouldn’t.

~ Michael Robert Dyet is the author of “Until the Deep Water Stills – An Internet-enhanced Novel” – double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’s website at www.mdyetmetaphor.com or the novel online companion at www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog .

~ Subscribe to “Michael’s Metaphors of Life Journal aka Things That Make Me Go Hmmm” at its’ internet home www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2 . Instructions for subscribing are provided in the “Subscribe to this Blog: How To” instructions page in the right sidebar. If you’re reading this post on another social networking site, come back regularly to my page for postings once a week.

 

Far from Home But Near to My Heart

Hmmm, is the celebrity bird hanging out on Lake Ontario an oddity or a kindred spirit calling out to me?

The Farmer’s Almanac says winter does not officially begin until December 21. But I’ve already hunkered down for the long siege. I’m not counting the days until spring quite yet. But I am casting longing glances at the field guides on my bookshelf and daydreaming about big wave days in the spring migration.

Hardcore bird-watchers keep going through the winter. Around this time of year, it is more about quality than quantity. Living in the Great Lakes Basin yields some surprise avian visitors in winter. Occasionally, a bird that belongs in the Atlantic Ocean finds its way up the St Lawrence River to Lake Ontario.

At the moment, the celebrity bird on the east end of the big lake is a Thick-billed Murre. It is a chunky black and white bird that looks a bit like a loon on steroids. My field guide says that this bird species is solitary, winters on the open ocean and is seldom seen from land. This makes it all the more exciting for bird enthusiasts that it is hanging out this far inland.

When I hear about one of these nomadic birds, I always wonder what the experience is like for it. I have to believe that it knows it is far, far away from home. The landscape is very different and there are no other birds of its species around. Does it feel, if you’ll pardon the pun, like a fish out of water?

And yet, a stray bird like this one often hangs around for quite some time. It makes me wonder if in fact it is not lost but rather on a big adventure. Maybe it is the free spirit of its species and this is just the latest episode in its ongoing quest to explore new horizons.

I am not what you would call an adventurous person. My comfort zone is fairly narrow. The things that give me pleasure are quite specific and uncomplicated. However, I am also not one to take the middle road or to bow to the pressure to conform. I have arrived at a time in my life where I believe it is okay to be unique and even a bit eccentric.

So maybe I have more in common with the Thick-billed Murre, who is vacationing on Lake Ontario, than it might seem at first. It would not bother me to be the odd bird (again, apologies for the pun) on the scene if the place I was hanging out was the kind of place that makes me happy. I would not be terribly concerned about what others might think about my choice.

I am pretty sure that the Murre is not aware of its celebrity status and would not much care if it was. It is just asserting its independence and doing what comes naturally – even if it is what is not supposed to be natural for its species.

As I’ve already implied, I don’t do much bird-watching in the winter. But, if the Murre ventures further west down the lake into my stomping grounds, I just might take a drive to the lakefront this weekend. It would give me pleasure to see a living metaphor of the be who you are whatever that means philosophy and a fellow nomad on the road less travelled.

And the fact that it would be a lifer on my bird list would round out the experience quite nicely.

~ Michael Robert Dyet is the author of “Until the Deep Water Stills – An Internet-enhanced Novel” – double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’s website at www.mdyetmetaphor.com or the novel online companion at www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog .

~ Subscribe to “Michael’s Metaphors of Life Journal aka Things That Make Me Go Hmmm” at its’ internet home www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2 . Instructions for subscribing are provided in the “Subscribe to this Blog: How To” instructions page in the right sidebar. If you’re reading this post on another social networking site, come back regularly to my page for postings once a week.

Black Friday, Charles Dickens and the Three Bucket Equation

“It is required of every man that the spirit within him should walk abroad among his fellow men, and travel far and wide…” ~ Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol

Hmmm, should Black Friday be a day to indulge ourselves guilt-free or a call to rethink the three bucket equation?

I made the mistake of swinging into the mall to do my weekly grocery shopping after work on Friday. It slipped my mind that it was Black Friday even here in Canada where Thanksgiving is several weeks behind us. I had to park about a football field away from the grocery store.

As I navigated the cars trolling the parking lot for available spaces, I found myself wondering about the purchases that were being made. How much of the boatloads of money being spent was for items that were actually needed versus spree spending just because there were hot deals to be had?

For various reasons, I’ve been more conscious lately of the choices we make in using the portion of our income that is left over after the bills are paid. This assumes, of course, that we are in the fortunate percentage of the population that has a surplus.

As Dickens taught us in his classic Christmas story, we have an obligation to walk among our fellow men and share the blessings we receive. There is no shortage of ways in which to do so. The more difficult consideration is deciding: 1) How much do we put aside for a rainy day? 2) How much do we use to indulge ourselves in the things we enjoy? 3) How much is left for us to give away?

The rainy day bucket fund seems critical in this day and age. In these lean and mean times, we never know when our number may come up in the corporate shuffle. Sorry, we’re making some changes in our structure. You don’t fit into the equation anymore. Best of luck. I’m sure you’ll be fine. Please leave right now.

Living in the moment to some degree also seems a must. Uncertainty is just about the only sure thing in the turbulent world we inhabit these days We never know what tomorrow may bring except that, more often than not, it will be something we did not see coming. We need to enjoy each day as it happens and indulge ourselves a bit.

The problem in this equation is that, after our rainy day bucket allotment and our living in the moment bucket allotment, there often is not a whole lot left for walking among our fellow men with generosity in mind. It is not lack of desire or an ungenerous spirit. It is just mathematics – or so it would seem.

The only solution to the conundrum is to rewrite the base equation so that giving, in whatever manner we choose to practice it, is part of the calculation from the beginning. It is not simply: Whatever is left, at the end of the day, I’ll give. Giving has to be one of the buckets in the planning process.

Most of us are not Scrooges. Our hearts are in the right place. But we still have to heed the metaphor Dickens immortalized. We must plan to walk among our fellow men with a magnanimous spirit. Otherwise, that third bucket will always have a leak in it.

~ Michael Robert Dyet is the author of “Until the Deep Water Stills – An Internet-enhanced Novel” – double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’s website at www.mdyetmetaphor.com or the novel online companion at www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog .

~ Subscribe to “Michael’s Metaphors of Life Journal aka Things That Make Me Go Hmmm” at its’ internet home www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2 . Instructions for subscribing are provided in the “Subscribe to this Blog: How To” instructions page in the right sidebar. If you’re reading this post on another social networking site, come back regularly to my page for postings once a week.

 

 

 

Discovering the Graces of November in the First Winter Snow Squall

Hmmm, is November just a surplus month in the calendar or I have I failed to give it its due?

There are times when I think that, if I had my way, I might just make the year eleven months long and do away with November altogether. It’s a drab, gray in between month whose only purpose seems to be to make a dividing line between fall and winter.

But occasionally I realize that it does have its moments of elegance. I have to pay closer attention because those moments are deceptively easy to miss. I glanced out of the window just now and caught one of those moments by happenstance.

Winter stretched its arms, took a deep breath and exhaled its first snow squall of the season. Swirling, twisting and curling whitecap waves of snow transformed the sky. Updrafts and side-spins and repeating spirals of snowflakes played out a madcap dance.

The last withered and lifeless leaves clinging to the trees trembled as orphans who had held out too long. Some were snatched from their feeble grip and conscripted into the riotous squall. Others stubbornly defied the wrenching wind vying to be the last to succumb.

The gray, linear shapes of buildings lost their sharpness and faded to shadows through the tremulous white filter. Clusters of pine trees receded to patches of muted green like wise old men hunkering down to weather the storm. The winter sun diffused into a white glow peeking through a passing rift in the clouds.

The squall lasts no more than ten minutes. The bucking waves of snow have now slackened to gentler swirls of individual flakes pirouetting in a graceful dance like tiny living creatures in an unseen sea.

Gray cloud banks are parting making room for the sun to emerge again with a sharp, cold revealing light. Billowing smoke leaps from rooftop chimney pipes like water spouts. The skeleton forms of trees become visible again with limbs shivering in the chill air.

I’m inclined to view November now more in the transformational light of metaphor. It is the last foot soldier of autumn defending the dying season with the final flourish of its vanishing strength. Its identity may be less colourful but it is no less distinct. I simply must pay closer attention to witness it – and when I do I find reason to honour the days of its passing.

“We are all treading the vanishing road of a song in the air, the vanishing road of the spring flowers and the winter snows, the vanishing roads of the winds and the streams, the vanishing road of beloved faces.” ~ Richard Le Gallienne, 1886 – 1947, English Author and Poet

~ Michael Robert Dyet is the author of “Until the Deep Water Stills – An Internet-enhanced Novel” – double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’s website at www.mdyetmetaphor.com or the novel online companion at www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog .

~ Subscribe to “Michael’s Metaphors of Life Journal aka Things That Make Me Go Hmmm” at its’ internet home www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2 . Instructions for subscribing are provided in the “Subscribe to this Blog: How To” instructions page in the right sidebar. If you’re reading this post on another social networking site, come back regularly to my page for postings once a week.

Putting the Rob Ford Reality Show in Our Rear View Mirror

Hmmm, when the crack-smoking mayor story runs out of steam, where will the media sharks find their next meal?

For those of you in other parts of the country or south of the border, you need to know that Toronto Mayor Rob Ford is in the midst of a raging political firestorm. He is under intense pressure to resign or take a leave of absence after admitting to being inebriated in public and smoking crack. A civil war has erupted between him and a majority of the other city councillors.

You may have heard the network late-night talk show hosts lampooning Ford in recent days. The media here have been in a feeding frenzy for days over the story and aren’t likely to stop anytime soon. Unfortunately, Ford – who is the living definition of a “loose cannon” – digs himself ten feet deeper into the hole he is in every time he speaks out to defend himself.

It would be very easy to fill this post with a rambling rant about Ford and his spectacular freefall. He’s alternately infuriating and pitiable. But it doesn’t seem right to give him more notoriety when the stories being bumped from the front page headlines include:

The death toll from Philippines typhoon continues to climb while thousands of survivors squat in the Tacloban Astrodome waiting for help to arrive and scores of bodies are buried in a mass grave the size of an Olympic swimming pool…

396 children are rescued as a Toronto man is arrested for the largest, most extensive commercial child pornography ring ever uncovered here in Canada. People from all over the world paid him to provide them with explicit videos of children…

A 50 year old woman is recovering, after being pulled from the wreckage of an airplane crash in northwestern Ontario, while she grieves the lives of the five people who died in the crash…

Residents of Leamington, Ontario – a quaint town of 28,000 in southwestern Ontario – deal with the news that the town’s largest employer is shutting down putting 740 people out of work. The Leamington Heinz plant, the second largest Heinz plant in the world which has been in operation since 1909, is the cornerstone of the local economy.

These heartbreaking stories are being bumped to page two while the Rob Ford reality show staggers on with no end in sight. I’m certain that the print and TV news executives roll out of bed each morning salivating at the thought of what new, outrageous thing Ford might say.

I’ve griped on more than one occasion about the media sharks and their propensity for blood-in-the-water feeding frenzies. I’m not sure which is the greater evil – the loose cannons who rage in front of the TV cameras or the media bottom-feeders who encourage it.

What I do know is that the Rob Ford scandal will eventually implode and mercifully fade away. The news stories will be archived and life will go on. But the lives of the people in the real news stories highlighted above may never be the same. They deserve better than second billing to a self-destructive politician who doesn’t know when to shut up.

So I’ll go looking for my metaphors in the heroic struggle of lives touched by tragedy rather than the self-imposed, downward spiral of a man who is his own worst enemy. Let’s put Rob Ford in our rear view mirror while we turn our attention to those who really need our help.

~ Michael Robert Dyet is the author of “Until the Deep Water Stills – An Internet-enhanced Novel” – double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’s website at www.mdyetmetaphor.com or the novel online companion at www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog .

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