I'm Not Here

I'm not here tonight just to share Christmas Eve with you
I'm not her just to share a night in your bed
I am here to share both with you

I love you more ; and after not living under the same roof or sharing a bed I only realize that more
I'm not here to wake up in the morning just to open gifts
I am here because I miss you and love you more than my own comprehension of love
I want your bed to once again be our bed
I want once again fro your ratty Christmas tree to be our Christmas tree
I want your apartment to be ours
I want my heart to belong to you
And yours to belong to me
We are not perfect
No one is
But I am perfectly in love with you

Help me bring Codys Story to more people -vote here

Wrap it Up

2^nd Annual World AIDS Week Wrap Up Party-2012

ACCKWA (the AIDS Committee of Cambridge,Kitchener,Waterloo & Area) is excited and proud to announce that we are celebrating our 25^th anniversary.  A lot has changed over the past 25 years; however we still have a long way to go.  This event is an important means to raise awareness about HIV/AIDS in Waterloo Region.  ACCKWA responds to the changing needs of the community and individuals infected,affected and at risk of HIV?AIDS through education,prevention,advocacy and support programs and services.

Last year our first annula “Wrap up Party”,  through the means of a silent and live auction raised $1,000.00, thanks to the generous support of artists,businesses, and individuals through their donations.

We are asking you to be a part of this event and we will promote your contribution by recognizing your business on our website.  Any donation you wish to make will be greatly appreciated.

We also encourage you to provide us with contact information and an invoice for donated items as we are able to provide you with a charitable tax receipt for donations of $20.00

Thank you so much for your time.  If you have any questions please feel free to contact Chris White at ACCKWA 519-570-3687 ext. 312 or gmsh@acckwa.com

To arrange a pickup please contact me at 519-267-0945. or joelethbridge2@yahoo.ca 
 Thank You in advance. I look forward to hearing from you.

Sincerely,

Joe Lethbridge

Funds Development Volunteer

Diagnosis Forward

Diagnosis Forward- My Human Library Book

I know I got the news just before June of 1990; my own wedding day.  It was a whirlwind of emotions for myself .  I was at the time excited about my own wedding but when a family member told me that he had tested positive for the HIV virus; it was like a landslide of boulders hitting me.

There were so many questions and so very few answers.  There were tears that could float ships. There also was much anger directed at no one in particular. I was angry and hurt and scared.  We all ranted and raved, prayed and pleaded. Some of us fell to our knees and bashed our hands against brick walls. 

My Mother; always the strong one in the family cried . Seeing her cry and her reaction only made me cry more and fear more.  She prayed and prayed while I most likely at the time cursed The Maker.

Who gave you AIDS ?  How could you sleep with someone you hardly knew ? Was it worth the one night stand sort of sex ?  Does he know about your test results ?  Does he care about your test results ?  Does he know his own HIV status ?  So many questions; so many unanswered questions; for now.  The answers to these questions would come slowly but they would come with more tears and even more questions about HIV and AIDS.

I have to confess; at the time I thought it was his, and others who had the virus “just desserts” I still feel so bad about that to this day. 

Now 22 years later; I am divorced with an amazing 21 year old son and I myself am openly gay.

In 1990 ; I fought all temptation and thoughts of myself being gay.  I admit I myself ; used derogatory names for gays.  I was angry-upset-pissed off that someone gave a loved one of mine HIV.  I was hurt that what was to be “mainstream media” put out the ill conceived news that AIDS and HIV were synonomous with homosexuals.  That only made me more afraid and closeted about my own sexuality. 

I remember the crying and blaming waned for a bit but then I heard that my family member had been pretty well “fired” by his dentist and family physician. 

HOW  DARE THE MEDICAL COMMUNITY BACK AWAY !!!

Was HIV –AIDS even worse than even they thought ?

Worse than they knew about or were they just afraid or ignorant as many others at the time.

A great doctor in Cambridge; Dr Gary Gibson took my family member on as a patient.

He took on HUNDREDS OF HIV POSITIVE PATIENTS WITHOUT ANY QUALMS

“Medical care is for everyone “ Sadly but truthfully; some turned their backs on those who needed not only care; but compassion the most.

My family member educated himself and us on what he had learned. He utilized the services of ACCKWA; which had started just 3 years before his diagnosis.

He was on a concoction of medications. He had very bad days and he had bad days . Fine or good days were far between.  He inspired me; probably even more than he knows.  We are a very humble family.  I tried to see HIV through his eyes; but I could not.  HIV invaded his body; not mine but HIV gave my heart and soul the desire to learn myself and hopefully touch someone along the way. 

Now though; even 22 years later, much still needs to be done.

The stigma attached to HIV and AIDS can be an emotional disabler; and when one’s body is weak; emotional strength is vital !

ACCKWA came into my life – I didn’t enters ACCKWA’s.

Through circumstances beyond my control I heard of and quickly wanted to learn about ACCKWA, HIV and AIDS.

I helped with Chairs For Charity, did writing and continue to do so.  I have written poems for those infected and affected by HIV and AIDS.  I have written for positivelite.com.  I have helped pack safer sex kits and have done one public speaking event.  Most recently I have collected donations for the online auction for ACCKWA.

Prior to 1990; HIV and AIDS were acronyms I had only seen on CNN or in the papers; with screaming bold headlines “GAY DISEASE”  I tried to pay it little mind.

Now in 2012 HIV and AIDS and ACCKWA are acronyms engraved in my heart and soul.

I do this now; not only for my brother- a brother only 1 year and 360 days older than myself-my Gemini Twin.  This is for everyone and their brother or sister, black or white, male or female, young or old because really HIV and AIDS does affect us all if even we are not infected with them. 

Stigma and ignorance are not easy to deal with but those need to be dealt with.

EDUCATION CAN BE A CURE FOR MANY ISSUES.

Diagnosis:Forward 2012. My brother is having good days and some very good days.

He is now taking just three pills compared to the cocktail of many

When we cry now it is usually from laughing so hard.

ACCKWA is changing lives-prolonging lives- changing the quality of life for those infected or affected by AIDS. Yet still; we have work to do.

Joe Lethbridge Friday October 12^th  10:41 am. 2012     DATE STAMPED

The Old Galt Post Office

Joe Lethbridge

There is yet a big hullabaloo in cambridge about using public funds (tax dollars ) to purchase the Old Post Office on Water Street and utilize it as space for the Cambridge Libraries expansion as well as a dining spot. It seems to be the same people over and over with their "THOU DOTH PROTEST" no matter what the city,mayor and councillors decide. Their jobs are no easy task.

The building itself is one of the most beautifully build heritage buildings in the city being built in 1885 as the Galt Customs House and Post Office. It was designed by Thomas Fuller, who was also responsible for design of the Parliament Buildings in Ottawa.

I feel the only way to preserve and restore this building is through the city's coffers. It was on the market for so long.

Renovations for the exterior and interior are said to be about $6 million dollar which is only $600 000 difference of what was earmarked for the expansion of the Library. The heritage and architecture of the Old Post Office's value far surpasses that !

When neccessary we should preserve our landmarks-or past and let it be a gift to those who follow us !

It is said that three levels will comprise the library ; including a digital lab.
As libraries and technology progress; why should we not utilize what is at hand- blending new methods of media and media sharing and heritage buildings.

Far better this than to let the Old Post Office fall into a state of disrepair and be a fire hazard as already people are seen going and leaving the building .

For those who continually protest no matter what "suck it buttercups ! Improving the city for us and tourists and new business is also the much touted word ÏNFRASTRUCTURE"

Build it and save it and they will come !!
Hats off to Mayor Craig and those who went with this decision-as bold as it were

Joe Lethbridge September 13 2012

Couture-High Fashion or what i call "wearable art extravaganza "

If you think one would have to travel to New York, London, Milan, Paris to get amazing couture; you would be wrong. Nestled amid historic shops in Cambridge Ontario is a new gem ! Rodney Philpott Designs is located at 22 Main Street . Rodney is definitely not a one size-one style fits all type of designer. I walk past the studio everyday and cannot help but have my eyes move to the display windows adorned with marvelous magical majestic pieces of wearable art. 

Moving to Cambridge from Toronto was not that difficult of a decision for Rodney and his partner Christopher.  Cambridge is huge on arts and culture for the size of it. Just over 130 000 people call Cambridge home.

Be it an evening gown, a prom dress, a wedding dress; you will definitely find it here and nowhere else. 

Check out more about Rodney and his wearable art extravaganza at rodphilpott.com

Here is that story......

Here is that story ... The other day I met my sister on Main Street as she was taking a walk. We sat together awhile until one of the street people showed up with a comforter wrapped around his neck, one rainbow striped sock and one grey work sock on his feet. No shoes. The three of us started talking. The young man said he was an anarchist and atheist. My sister popped into the discount store and came back with three Pepsi’s . She handed him one. He was extremely and genuinely thankful; a bit surprised too I think. We continued to chat until my sister headed home. I continued sitting on the bench and “josh” took a seat on the sidewalk beside the bench I was on.

He talked about living in Montreal and Kitchener and now Cambridge.
“About three months” he answered when I asked how lo

ng he was in town
“I have been kicked out of both shelters because I sleep in late so I sleep wherever I can..on buildings,in school yards,parks and sometimes under bridges” he went on

He told me all the drugs he had said he had tried. Coke at age 8 because his own mother gave it to him. “My street family means more to me than my own real family” he stated

He went on doing the tough guy act and I called him on it. His eyes dampened up and he lifted himself off the sidewalk. He rolled up the sleeves on his jacket and I saw the “crank sores” Crystal Meth. I had already thought so after seeing his teeth.

“I don’t do meth anymore. That stuff will fuck you up” he said when he had seen me looking at the sores.

“I only do hash and weed now” I wanted to believe him but somehow I couldn’t
I see him almost everyday now carrying around the blanket somedays and not on others. Wearing the same socks and same baseball cap. Jeans he had made using dental floss and old fabric. A hat he had decorated and still carries on decorating. The mteal parts of BIC lights crimped along the cap. Some days he is at the library sitting across from me. I wave or say hello. He replies “I am surprised you still talk to me”

Judging someone because they are homeless won’t change their situation.
I signed off the computer and said goodbye.
He waved at me and reminded me that his name was not Josh. “You know my name “
I know his real name but figured when and if he wanted to tell his real name and his whole story; he would.
Sadly ones reputation proceeds and follows them around.
When someone puts on a “thug face” people tend to stand clear. Maybe that is why he does it. Maybe he doesn’t want anyone getting close. Maybe he fears if people get close; they will leave him alone, to his own devices.
Maybe that is why he is alone.
Maybe he chooses solitude over being alone.
Sad ? truth can sometimes be sad
Another person with a different wall of self-protection

On Fashion and Rodney Philpott Designs

On Fashion and Rodney Philpott Designs

When you think of fashion as an art form; where does your mind take you ?
London,Paris,Milan,New York City ?

Rethink that if you can. No longer do you have to travel far for cutting edge designs. It is closer than you think. Much closer.

This coming Wednesday ; Rodney Philpott Designs will open its doors at 22 Main Street in Cambridge.

Rodney has been designing clothes since he was only sixteen years of age.
With a unique vibe his creations are like nothing I have ever seen.
Fashion infused with art. How fashion should be.
Eighty percent of his designs are custom made; as each piece of artistic apparel is as individual as the consumer. People are not cut from a cookie cutter so why should design? Show your own personality.

There are also some prêt a porter or ready to wear pieces .

In prom season 2012; Rodney has created and sold between 130 and 140 prom dresses !
What makes Rodney Philpott Designs stand apart from others ?
He ensures and will let the consumer know if someone else from the same school has ordered the same dress. We are all individuals ; so too should our personal styles.
Why should fashion magazines dictate what fashion is to you. Let you show your flair, your vim and vigor. Let your colorful personality shine through.

All of Rodney’s artistic apparel is designed and made on site; not in some far offshore lands .
Pulling up stakes from Toronto; Rodney and partner Christopher now live and are proud to call Cambridge home.
Stay tuned to fashion when Rodney Philpott Designs has its Grand Opening September 22 2012

Rodney Philpott Designs
22 Main Street Cambridge
519 624 0959
www.rodphilpott.com

He is not the only one

A friend I had once and still think of often; Michael Baskett told me that he picked up cast away pennies on the streets. He saw value in everything and everyone. Some people are cast away to fend for themselves on the streets; made to feel like they have no value.  This is just one story of many people; even here in an average sized city . Cambridge Ontario. Michael had it right. There is value in everything and everyone. We are one .

He’s not the only one

Everyone of us has a story to be told.  Some want the story to be told while others do not.

I see him most every day as I walk the streets of downtown Cambridge.  He sometimes mutters to himself; sometimes loudly but not always.  Not today.  I offer him a cigarette.

“No thanks; today I have my own…but thanks bud”

The light changed to red and I stood waiting at the corner for the light to change. He caught up to me and I seen him give me a side glance but he quickly turned his eyes away from me.

Before you tell me that perhaps I enable him; let me say this.  I would sooner see him, others  too, have a smoke from a fresh pack then to see them bend at a curbside and dig through discarded butts; stained by rain and who knows what else.  Smoking a butt from the street can perhaps carry hepatitis and a gamut of other problems.

He mutters loudly again aiming his words at no one in particular. I know I have seen him some nights huddled in bank lobbies; away from the wind, the rain, the snow and the cold.

“Sometimes people too” he says “Sometimes people can do more bad on a person than the elements of weather”  He points at one bank lobby and says “Not tonight.  Tonight is a warm night.  I sleep outside”

“aren’t you afraid of sleeping outside?  Afraid people may hurt you?”  I ask

He laughs loudly.  “Look at me Bud!  I talk to myself.  I swear a blue streak.  I wouldn’t say I am clean by any stretch.  They are probably more afraid of me”

I don’t know where he is walking but he is still walking beside me.

Me. I just walk to think. To clear my mind.

When people ask me” Where are you going?” ;  I often say “anywhere and everywhere”

Sometimes the walk itself is the destination.

We walk on. We are close to Shade Street now.  He points.

“You can see all of downtown from there.”  He points to Centennial Park.  I know this already.  There are times that I; myself sit there and look down onto Main Street.

“The thing is this..there is no middle ground anymore..You have the rich and the poorest of the poor..there are food banks and soup kitchens and shelters…I do not utilize any of them. I know some who abuse them; literally eating food that could have gone to those who really need it.  Some of those places need stricter guidelines and rules need to be enforced at shelters. No turning a blind eye to what goes on that shouldn’t. I have been in and out of town-Niagara Falls..London..Brantford..Toronto..” He rhymed off towns and cities incessantly and then saying..

“I know there are people far worse off than myself.  I manage to scrape up enough food to fill my belly and no I do not steal to fill it !  That is the thing with most people.  Pile a plate high in front of most people and they will clear the plate; even if they are no longer hungry”

He suddenly mutters, raising his hands and paces the sidewalk ; swearing and yelling “even all my clothes !”

More than being frightened and not understanding what he meant; I felt sadness.

It is not like a person chooses to have a mental illness or a drug user.

Something led them there.  I think the saddest part of all is that some people just view them as “junkies” or “crack whores” or “nut jobs”

He looked at me and said he had to be going.

“Can I get that smoke now Bud?  I don’t have any.  I just didn’t want to bother and have you think I am just a bum”

“My name’s Joe” I responded, handing him a smoke.

“No bother Bud; I will likely forget it by later today.”

He took the smoke and walked up Shade Street, hands in the air muttering until he disappeared out of view.

Everyone of us has a story. Maybe in everyone’s story ; there are lessons to be learned.

I just wonder if anyone cares about his and anyone else’s story or are we only concerned how our own story ends.

Joe Lethbridge

June 5^th 2012

CambridgeTimes Article: Don't hide real name

CambridgeTimes Article: Don't hide real name

Cafe 13- Who doesn't like great food and service.

Cafe 13 is located in historic downtown Cambridge just steps from scenic Grand River and walking trails. Cafe 13 excels at all they prepare to your exacting order. Enjoy the outdoor cafe with your meal or a cold drink.

In addition to the darkly wooded main dining area is a second floor featuring The Galt Club, an impressive separate dining room and bar area ideal for hosting private functions of all styles.

From appetizers to steak and seafood; the fare is delectable- the ambiance enticing and the employees eager to please. 

 Just one of my personal favorites is the Bruschetta Poutine ! Roasted tomatoes, garlic and basil topped with feta cheese and a balsamic glaze ! 

A paltry $6.99 for a princely portion

Stop by Cafe 13 today. It will not be your one and only visit. You will be back.

I met a friend a friend through Crystal Meth

I  found a friend through Crystal Meth !

Shocking title isn't it !  Crystal Meth is shocking and its use is growing

Crystal meth is taking over like wildfire. A concoction of ingredients ranging from nasal decongestants to lithium form rechargeable batteries to anhydrous ammonia (fertilizer) to muriatic acid (concentrated hydrochloric acid) .

2005 figures show that in one Los Angeles clinic alone; 1 in 3 gay or bisexual men who tested positive for HIV admitted to using Crystal meth.  In the U.S 20 – 30% percent of gay men have used crystal meth as compared to the 5.3% of the general population.

Circuit or rave parties are a huge part of the crystal met use and addiction where people can dance away a two or three day weekend without feeling tired or hungry and their sexual appetite is stronger than appetite for food.  These rave or circuit parties give gay men a sense of belonging. No matter how Proud gay men are; somewhere in the back of their heads they still hear “Sinner!” or any other derogatory words.  There is a decline in the fear of contracting HIV because of more effective drugs to help control the virus. This gives a false sense of security and along with the use of crystal meth; inhibitions go out the door.  Up to one third of recent cases of HIV infections have occurred during what is referred to as “crystal sex”; being having sex while high on crystal meth.

The sexual high on meth has been described as having as many as 6-10 multiple orgasms at once with a feeling of excitement up to one hour later. This is why some use crystal meth; so as “to measure up in the bedroom”

Pfizer Incorporated the maker of Sudafed@-which contained pseudoephedrine or ephedrine  (one of the key components of crystal meth) once opposed restrictions on the sale of such drugs; but later reversed their decision when they released Sudafed FE@ nasal congestant-without the use of pseudoephedrine or ephedrine.

In vitro studies of HIV living in cell cultures showed that crystal meth accelerated the growth of the HIV virus 5 to 15 times faster than that of HIV not exposed to crystal meth.

After prolonged use of crystal meth “crank bugs” and “meth mouth” occur.

Crank bugs are open sores caused by meth users who scratch at imaginary bugs on the skin or deep within the skin.  Some meth users have gone as far as eating the “crank bug juice” to get more meth into their systems.

Meth mouth is when teeth layers thin-crack off and turn brown or black and are brittle. Meth causes the salivary glands to dry out, which allows the mouth's acids to eat away at the tooth enamel, causing cavities as well.

Physical appearance makes vast changes over a short period of time. People who have used meth for two years have aged in appearance by up to 30 years.

Crystal Meth impacts people of all backgrounds regardless of stature in the community or economics.  Users have been known to have nothing in the fridge rather than “cooking supplies”. People on government assistance as well as those making six figure incomes use crack. “crack houses” are not as always portrayed on tv. Some are ramshackle abodes while others are in well-to-do gated communities.

Centre for Disease studies conclude that to “successfully contain the epidemic of HIV, meth use must  be reduced “

Much like any other addiction; there are no easy answers. There will always be a new “drug of choice”  I believe that not one person wakes up one morning and says “Hey ! I think I will stick a needle in me” or “Smoke from some dirty pipe”  I believe that something is missing in someones life.

While people may refer to users as “crackheads” or “junkies” ; still they are people. People worth fighting for and people worth caring about.

Joe Lethbridge 2012

Would You lend a hand !! ??

ACCKWA is my local AIDS and HIV organization.  I have been volunteering in some aspect over the past 18 years.  This time I am helping make a patch or two for an AIDS Memorial Quilt.  It doesn't take long to make a patch but your compassion in doing so will have lasting effects to those living with AIDS and HIV.  No longer the dark days when first referred to as GRID (Gay related immune Deficiency) We have become more educated; yet there is much more to learn and share.  Following statistics are from www.amfar.org :

"

Statistics: Worldwide

• More than 34 million people now live with HIV/AIDS.
• 3.4 million of them are under the age of 15.
• In 2010, an estimated 2.7 million people were newly infected with HIV.
• 390,000 were under the age of 15.

• Every day more than 7,000 people contract HIV—nearly 300 every hour.

• In 2010, 1.8 million people died from AIDS.
• 250,000 of them were under the age of 15.
• Since the beginning of the epidemic, more than 60 million people have contracted HIV and nearly 30 million have died of HIV-related causes.

Please help if you can. If you are out of the district in which ACCKWA serves please help in anyway you can. You may donate here  http://www.acckwa.com/en/?page_id=455 Any amount is greatly appreciated. Please pass this email along or retweet. Thank you for thinking of helping others

Joe Lethbridge

"gay" writer- timber ties -shadows and fashion

It  wasn’t long ago that someone wanted to promote me as a “gay writer” or a “Gay artist” and introduce me to the “mainstream arts community”.  I am a writer and I make jewellery and “Unfunctional Art”; art that doesn’t really have a purpose but the artform does. I have dabbled in both long before I “came out” as being gay.  Being gay has no bearing whatsoever on either.  If you are looking for ; or expecting me to write homoerotic stories; you would be wrong in expecting it from me.  If you expect me to create a beaded tallywhacker;  you would be wrong yet again.  The thing is this.  I have known people and still know people in the arts community; however, I do not have to drop names; casually or otherwise.

My writing subject may or may not mean much to you.  My writing and beads may hold “no real artistic merit”.  My writing has been given both praise and criticism.  My beading has helped raise funds for local charities and made me feel good in doing so.  I have a folder on a USB stick of both positive and negative feedback.  I keep that and read it to keep a level head about me.  My intention is not to be reknowned or famous as a “gay artist”  I am a craftsman in training attempting to do; what I love to do, what puts me at ease.  Anxiety alleviators.  Being described as a “gay” anything only adds to the anxiety. Gay is who I am – not what I do.

----------------------------------------------

 

On Fashion

I am leaning against the concrete wall with the sun beating down on me.  My brow and forehead sweating.  I am facing Kendal Avenue with a five story apartment building directly in front of me.  A grey haired woman leans on a TTC pole; wearing a white floral top, canary yellow slacks, burgundy sandals with stars and crescent moons cut from the leather.  A lavender, pink and green cotton bag hangs over her shoulder.  The highlight of the bag is the huge pink flamingo standing on one leg.  I flick an ant from climbing on my chest.  Damn. I stepped in gum.  A stretchy Pepto-Bismol colored strand of elastic material stretches from my shoe to the sidewalk.  I move my foot more to see how far it stretches.  Two feet; maybe three now.  It snaps, slowly recoiling to not the sidewalk, but to the sole of my shoe.  The woman moves from the bus stop; away from the sun.  She wears a bracelet full of funky charms.  One much like I could have made.  She wears three rings on her left hand and is still one of the few that wears clip on earrings.

A man rides his green bike past, as the 127 Davenport bus stops and picks up the woman.  The man is a mish-mash of fashion.  One, he like so many others calls his own.  He wears black fishnet stockings with a rose motif under blue jean shorts.  He wears black Nike runners with red swoops.  He tops it all off with an old CN rail engineer cap and wears a black, metal studded dog collar around his neck.  He takes a seat between two elderly men; both white haired and wearing suspenders with slight pot bellies, sitting on the cedar bench outside the apartment across from me.  The double- deckered red bus passes by.  It is a rainbow of color of polo shirts, tee shirts and tank tops. Urg- I hate polo tees.  The sun shines off a bald man’s head.

I look down and see ants covering the gum on the sole of my shoe. The right shoe.  I scrape it off with my pen cap and toss it onto the road.  I wonder what time it is now.  I have to be somewhere at 11:45.  I couldn’t have been sitting here for two yours yet; but sometimes, somehow I get lost in my writing.  Sometimes though; I want to get lost in it and not come out.  In my writing at least; I can direct myself to where I want to be. Where I am happiest.

I look myself over. Black and silver Bata shoes from a secondhand store.  Blue jeans with tattered hems.  A vintage white men’s Chanel shirt with blue print design; free,courtesy of the food bank.  Salt and pepper hair.  More salt than pepper.  No gel.  No mousse. No hairspray. Just wake and go style. A neck hoop of metal nuts, amber square beads, tiger striped oval beads and a few others.  No cologne.  No after shave. I believe that if a person keeps clean, there is no need to smell like one fell in a vat of scented chemicals and alcohol.  I am not one who is out to impress others, or smell like a whorehouse or the counter of the cosmetics at The Bay.

It is 11:30.  I just asked someone who was wearing tan sandals and cargo pants.  I hate sandals too. The way they trip trop clip clop on the sidewalk.

I have to go now. Time to set down my pen, close this book and get to things in the real world; but then again;  what is real and still, I have no idea what “fashion” is.

Fashion is- Fashion is what you make it I guess.

To bad the fashion moguls seem to dictate what to wear-THEIRS while they; themselves wear others or maybe like me; they wear freecycled or second hand.

---------------------------------------------------

 

Shadows cast from moonlit sky

I sat in my white poly-resin chair on the asphalt driveway out front of our apartment building; hoping to get some writing done.  Something I have been putting off for far too long now.  I hadn’t much more than a paragraph written when it became too dark to see what I was writing.  I turned the page and left my journal open to a fresh new page.  The leaves of the mulberry tree above me rustled in the breeze and the moon shone through branches; casting fragmented shadows of light onto the page.  The dark portions are in fact the fragments of light cast upon the paper from the glow of the moon.  I traced a line around them.  What I had thought to be complete darkness was anything but. 

Realization set in. No matter how dark our surroundings are; there are glimmers of light.  Of hope. Sometimes we just have to search a little longer. A little harder.

 

----------------------------------

 

I sat on the railway timber having a cigarette (one of my last as I plan on quitting) after stopping for a Tim Horton’s coffee.  A man on a mobility scooter sat eating the last of his bagel with egg; crumpling up the waxed paper wrapper and throwing it towards the garbage receptacle,missing; landing on the red mulch beside it.  I offered to pick it up.

“Only difference between me and a Toronto Raptor is they get paid more” He laughed

“When they suck , they chalk it up to being an off day”  He told me about his grand kids. One boy and one girl.  One three and one six.

“one is Canadian-Jamaican and the other is Canadian Guyanese.  Throw in my newfie background and the wife’s Portuguese and you’ve got pretty well the United Nations.  When my 6 year old grandson asked me what race he was when people asked; I told him just to say “I am of the human race”

“Kids don’t care about colour unless they hear parents or others talk in a negative manner.  Color or country or religion shouldn’t distinguish us from others.  We should be based on our standing and character”

I just sat there listening; taking it all in but I already felt the same way as he did on the topic at hand.

“aren’t you going to ask me why I am in the scooter?” he asked, through sips of coffee

“If you want to tell me; sure, but I’m not going to ask.  That scooter doesn’t change your character either” I said and he laughed

“There are assholes in scooters too” he said

“Maybe so; but I’m not talking to an asshole. I am talking to you” I responded

“Seems like I am the one talking and you are listening” he said

“I am more of a listener than a talker” I replied; putting out my cigarette and taking the last sip of coffee. “ I tend to come off sounding stupid when I talk” I added

He balled up his coffee cup and threw it at the garbage can; missing again.

“It’s not about how many times you miss the target.  It is more about having a target to aim for.  It’s the one in a hundred that we may hit the target that makes us feel good; forgetting about the other ninety-nine times. Gotta Scoot!” he said; heading out of the parking lot onto Davenport Road.

“Obey the traffic lights !” I joked

He turned back; waved and yelled “Find a few things to smile about”

I had just met one. One reason to smile. One more reason.

all @Joe Lethbridge 2012