Anyone Know of a Good Doctor?

Our GP is a prick.

Around six years ago, I was experiencing some heart flutters and bumps that naturally got me extremely concerned. I'd never felt such sensations before and, because it was a heart issue, whenever they occurred I went into a panic, naturally exacerbating the problem yet further. I visited the doc, who suspected the extremely common cardiac arrhythmia was to blame (which, ultimately, was correct, and it's now fine), so he arranged some tests.

While I was waiting for dates for these tests the sensations grew in severity, likely amplified by my terror, but on a couple of occasions scaring the living daylights out of me. I was having trouble trying to keep calm about it, so went back to the doc to request a small prescription for something like Ativan to sedate me a little until the test dates came through. As he reluctantly filled out a scrip, he said to me, "Well, David, maybe you should take this as a warning, and perhaps begin to get your affairs in order."

Can you effing believe that?! To this day, I cannot believe he said that to me, and everyone I've ever told about it - including other medical professionals - has been aghast at his utter lack of compassion, support and empathy, not to say anything of his obviously appalling bedside manner.

Over the last few weeks I've been experiencing some aches and pains around my right flank, being the site of my last cancer surgery at the tail-end of 2010. These have persisted, so with my health history I'm always going to check these things out. So I trundled back to the doc - who both Susan and I feel is always all but ushering us out of his office before we've even got in the door - to get it all checked out. He arranged blood work and an ultrasound, neither of which revealed anything of significance, but the lovely radiologist at the imaging clinic strongly recommended I press for a CT scan to cover all bases.

Back to the doc with her recommendation I went, and during that appointment - because he seemed trying to avoid setting up a CT scan for me - I was beginning to get the feeling he just didn't believe me, that he thought my pains are a product of my imagination. If there is one thing I most certainly am NOT, it's a hypochondriac!

So, I demanded a CT scan based on my health history alone, and he eventually agreed. The results came through to reveal nothing to concern my GP or anyone else involved in my health care, yet these aches and pains remain. Bewildered, I asked the doc what happens next. He looked at me with this disbelieving expression and said, "I guess your definition of pain and mine are very, very different," and told me there was nothing left to investigate. 

Yeah, my GP is a prick, alright.   

The Cutest Thing, Like, Ever

I absolutely adore hummingbirds. I see them most every day of my life, and will never, ever get bored of watching them. For so many reasons, what extraordinary creatures they are! I love the wee critters so much that when deciding upon what I should get as my next tattoo - wanting something representative of my life on, and love for, the island I call home - I chose to get a copy of a beautiful First Nations carving of a hummingbird we picked up on Thetis Island a few years ago. (I get my new ink in May.)

So, all this said, imagine my squeals of delight and how hard I had to bite my bottom lip when recently stumbling across the incredible video below. I have seen thousands of cute animal videos, but in all my days I have never seen anything even remotely approaching the impossible cuteness of this clip. I'm not sure I will ever see anything so damned cute again! Even the photographs I saw just yesterday of twenty newly hatched chameleon babies - perfectly mini versions of their adult selves - can hold a candle to this awesome piece of film. As if I could not love hummingbirds anymore, just look at this...

The (B)log Lady

When Twin Peaks was originally screened back in 1990-91, I was working long hours away from home (in Belfast), so missed pretty much all of it. Only now, all these years later, am I finally catching up and seeing what all the fuss was about. Susan bought the deluxe boxed set of both seasons a while back, and we are now watching episodes of it every other night. I'm finding it utterly compelling, especially a few years ago having visited Snoqualmie Falls and the Salish Lodge & Spa, which feature heavily in the show.

There are many fascinating characters in Twin Peaks, one of whom, the Log Lady, introduces each episode with a few lines of wisdom or veiled clues as to elements of the episode's content. As a writer, I particularly enjoyed her spiel preceding episode 10:

"Letters are symbols. They are building blocks of words which form our languages. Languages help us communicate. Even with complicated languages used by intelligent people, misunderstanding is a common occurrence. We write things down sometimes - letters, words - hoping they will serve us and those with whom we wish to communicate. Letters and words, calling out for understanding."

And on that note...

Bazinga!

 

Over the last two months Susan and I have gobbled up all seven seasons of The Big Bang Theory available on DVD as I write. It has became something of an obsession, really, and after one binge viewing session we'd enjoy another the following evening. This, despite the fact we had successfully ignored it - and Susan's boss, aghast we had never watched it, and insisting we do - for a full seven years since the first episode aired. The thing is, we don't watch television - just DVDs and BluRays - so remain only partly aware of the hit or good shows, and blissfully unaware of a great many others. (On a regular basis, customers trade in DVDs of series' at the store that I have never heard of or read about.)  Anyway, whenever TBBT DVDs have come in, they've usually been snapped up immediately, so when good condition copies of the first five seasons came into the store in December, as a store perk available to me is borrowing movies I decided to bring them home to see what the fuss was about.

 

It didn't take too long before we were absolutely hooked, and bought the lot! Not for nothing does a sitcom in this age of distraction and byte-sized 'entertainment' reach eight seasons,  but with TBBT it is extremely easy to see why. This show is so funny, sharp, poignant, emotional, observant and beautifully written and acted, that it truly is up there with the sitcom royalty of such as Frasier, Friends et al. We have watched 159 episodes so far (only behind on Season 8, yet to be released on DVD), and have loved every single one! Seriously, the brilliant writing team has yet to come close to dropping the ball, and in pretty much every episode there is at least one line so funny that we have to press pause on the remote control, laugh ourselves to the point of exhaustion, then regain composure, wipe away the tears, and rejoin the episode. It's that funny. Adding to the pleasure of this joyous experience is the regular social commentary, when the writers throw in barbed comments in directions thoroughly deserving of them, a factor that often makes us cheer out loud! 

 

The obvious ilk of Breaking Bad, Game of Thrones, The Sopranos and Six Feet Under aside, it's been been a long time since I fell so hard for a show, especially a sitcom. Far from it being comedy aimed at the lowest common denominator, if you will - I would include such as the Hangover trilogy, American Pie and all that dumb shit - this is sophisticated, yet direct humour, appreciated across the board by just about everyone. We have an unfortunately currently housebound university professor friend recovering from a serious car smash, so we've been feeding her DVDs to keep her entertained. She thinks TBBT is just about the funniest show she's ever seen! With this in mind, I've pondered the huge appeal TBBT has for me/us, dissecting the elements that make it so magical.

 

Firstly, it is, as I say, uproariously funny. The lines written for each character are perfectly in tune with their carefully developed personalities, and delivered to a tee by the impeccably cast ensemble. Comic timing is all, but will always fall flat in the face of flaccid material. Quite how the TBBT writers have managed to remain so consistently high on the hilarious-o-meter for what is now just one season short of 200 episodes is utterly bewildering, but as long as they continue to produce such side-splitting material and develop the characters at the perfect pace they have done so far, this show can run and run. The producers of The Simpsons should take note.

 

Secondly, I relate emotionally to traits of every single character. It's all about outsiders, nerds, geeks and dreamers who occupy their own place in this world to the puzzlement of much of the rest of society. It celebrates, rather than excludes, the 'different' folks among us, in this instance (principally) those brilliant souls in the arena of science that no one ever thinks about, but without whom this world would not turn. Besides their achievements it looks at their quirks, insecurities and vulnerabilities - such as the very real, awful situation of being alone, yet having no clue how to rectify it - and it does so with great compassion.

 

One aspect of this is looking at the characters as true products of their parents and families, so despite their glorious uniqueness they are presented as very real, very human. The show considers the pressures of succeeding under the keen eyes of parents that are, variously, cold, aloof and detached; religiously pious; overbearingly suffocating and needy, or - in the case of Raj - determined that their offspring conform to societal tradition (by agreeing to an arranged marriage). It also examines culture clashes, the complex nature of relationships between people of radically different backgrounds, and... oh man, I could go on and on.

 

In an article in the British newspaper The Guardian last October,  the correspondent called TBBT "an unstoppable force," and as a committed fan that's how it seems. In this world of increasing horrific violence and chaos, this is a show that brings a massive amount of joy to an awful lot of people: 18,000,000 Americans tuned into the premiere episode of Season 8, for heaven's sake; it remains the most watched show on US TV, and one of the most watched of all time, continually shattering its own viewing figures stats.

 

To have a right royal belly laugh at the end of a day filled with grim headlines, work drudgery and the rigours of everyday 21st century life - well, it is everything, at least to Susan and I. It's not that we bury our heads in the sand as to the madness all around us - far from it, especially me - but for as long as we wish to we can escape it all in the bosom of TBBT, laughing our heads off as we salute people, albeit fictitious characters, that we relate to in so many ways. Because our tastes are generally more aligned to alternative subcultures than the mainstream, we are far from typical people of our age; there are many out there who think we're weird, but it's simply the way we are, and we will change for nobody. I'm sure that this lies at the very core of why we love these beautiful characters of TBBT so much: just like us, whether the show's inhabitants are genii or not, they are still regular people.

 

We can't wait for Season 8 to be released on DVD. We'll blast through it as we have the previous seven, then likely start all over again to try catch the bits we missed when laughing our asses off so hard. Yeah, laughter really is the best medicine, and this is a world in great need of it right now. If you read this and for some reason, like us, you've let TBBT pass you by for any given reason, do yourself a favour and jump aboard. You won't regret it, I promise.

 

Swiftmas

So, here begins another year on Planet Earth. As for the last one, it was in many ways a great and significant year from a personal perspective, but it ended with me under something of a cloud. The ills and incomprehensible evils of the world, coupled with a degree of uncertainty concerning various areas of my life, left me feeling kind of glum and introspective as we headed into the festive season. I continue to work through it, as ever supported by my astonishing wife and soul mate, and will get there soon, but sometimes a little boost to cheer me up can come from the most unexpected of sources: Taylor Swift, for example.

 

I couldn't care less for Swift's music, either when she was a country megastar or, having this year made a seamless transition to the current undisputed Queen of Pop, now she rules the airwaves and hearts of teenagers everywhere. I appreciate that she writes all her own material and possesses a degree of vocal and dancing talent, but that slick pop sound is just not for me. Nonetheless, I do have huge admiration for the girl, especially as she seems very determined to do things her way, come what may.

 

For starters, her brave stance over Spotify was amazing and startling for such a huge star, yet rather than provoke a backlash it appears to have propelled her to even greater heights. But yesterday I watched two videos on YouTube that served to not only move me, but further enhance her reputation in my opinion as one of the most valid, grounded, genuine and human pop stars to emerge in decades. Her care for her fans, and focused determination to remain as closely connected to them as possible, is quite extraordinary. When viewing the first video below, in which she goes out of her way to bring such personalized joy to some of her millions of fans this Christmas, could easily be cynically viewed as a genius marketing exercise, but I see it very differently. I see Swift's gestures as simply the actions of a level-headed, sweet and kind young woman doing what she can, within the parameters of power she retains in a totally abnormal life, in order to pay back some of those who have supported her hard work to achieve a position of great wealth and privilege. It would be so easy to rest on her laurels in a metaphorical ivory tower, but not this young lady. Just watch, and try to hold back the tears of joy; Susan and I couldn't.

 

 

She doesn't have to do this. We imagine that no one told her to, or advised it as a great idea to win over yet more people, as that could only happen if one enjoys Swift's music, which we certainly do not. She did it because she wants to, because it's important to her. There doesn't seem anything remotely cynical, calculated or manufactured about Swift: she's just a lovely girl doing her best to keep her feet on the ground, always remembering those who put her where she is. As a red-blooded male I obviously find her stunningly pretty and sexy, but her personality is even more attractive than her physical attributes. It shines through in this second video, in which she is interviewed by craggy ol' Barbara Walters.

 

 

 

Wow. What a babe. She seems so totally in control of her life and career in an industry still dominated by men, to the extent that I cannot imagine any record company executive even trying to suggest following a path other than the one she has mapped out for herself. That's awesome, isn't it? 

 

There's something else about Swift I personally relate to very strongly, and that's the importance of reinvention. In 2014 she relocated to New York City (probably a career-driven move, but why stay in Nashville if she's leaving country music behind?), and drastically overhauled her sound. The result? The biggest selling album of the year! I, too, in some perhaps subtler ways, underwent both an organic and partially self-motivated reinvention last year. "Change is as good as a rest," my dear old grandmother used to say, and it's one of her many little wisdoms that has stayed lodged in my head since childhood.

 

I didn't begin 2014 with any great plans in mind as to what I wanted from the year; everything that happened simply happened, but I'm glad it all did. In the wake of this period of change, embarking upon 2015 I now have plans and desires in mind, things I would like to have achieved and done by the time 2016 dawns, so we'll see where it goes and I'll evaluate the situation in twelve months time. Perhaps Taylor Swift followed a grand plan she had for her own 2014, or perhaps she didn't, but the fact remains she is a giving human being and truly valid role model for young folks of both sexes, wherever they may be. In a world currently experiencing such pain and suffering, that's something to hold onto as a glint of light in the darkness.  

 

        

Another Cat That Destroyed Christmas

 

Just the other day Susan and I were chuckling over this photo blog thingy (clumsily) entitled '14+ Dogs and Cats That Destroyed Christmas.' It's far from unique, of course; there are lots of variations on this theme all over the Interwebs; cats do, after all, own it.

 

When viewing it we thanked our lucky stars that we seem to own a cat that (note: past tense) didn't seem to be interested in joining such a club, which we are aware has a great many members around the world. It's what they do. But then, as if on cue, he started taking ornaments off the Christmas tree in the middle of the night, and in the morning we'd find it or them somewhere it or they shouldn't be. This has continued for a few days, but the new trend is that he'll bring his new toys to the bed, so we'll wake up surrounded by all manner of sparkly junk.

 

This morning, we woke up to the spectacle you see above. Compared to the carnage unleashed by some of the little gits featured in those blogs, it's not a big deal, but that  Reggie's Christmas tree obsession seems to be escalating naturally causes concern. Sweeping up the plastic pine needles the tree shed when falling, I managed to cut my finger open on a shard of broken ornament. My finger turned red, the air turned blue, and Reggie's name is currently suspended in favour of "Little Grey Mofo" until I've calmed down a bit.

 

HAPPY HOLIDAYS, EVERYONE! (Except you, Reggie.)  

All Too Much

Every morning I follow a routine I enjoy. I crawl out of bed, switch on the coffee machine that my wife has lovingly pre-primed, and head to the office to turn on the computer to read the news, check and respond to emails, and read various blogs. It's how I like to start my day.

The first thing I do is check the news, usually starting with the BBC website. Increasingly in recent times, I click on the link with a degree of trepidation, such is the flow of horror and misery emanating from the human world these days. I wonder what awful shit will stare back at me first thing in the morning. Today, however, the headline that greeted me indicated a new low for humankind, truly a level of evil beyond the comprehension of any right-thinking individual.

In Pakistan, 132 children and nine adults have been massacred by the Taliban. This madness comes on the same day that fifteen schoolgirls were blown to pieces by car bombs in Yemen, and in the same week that news broke of four Christian children being beheaded by ISIS psychopaths in Iraq. When I hear these things, it is difficult to articulate my despair. I lose all hope for our species as by these acts we are dragged deeper and deeper into a seemingly irreversible downward spiral, with maniacs like the Taliban, ISIS, Boko Haram and their evil, twisted ideologies, using children as "political pawns" in their insane strides to make the world theirs.

I don't give a flying fuck about their grievances with the US, "the West," or anyone else - presumably EVERYONE who does not share their demented views of how the world should function - as there is not a single reason, however lucid it may seem to them, that these barbaric, brainwashed fuckers could offer to justify or rationalize their depraved atrocities. Without conscience, these monsters are executing CHILDREN, every young life destroyed nudging us closer and closer to a return to the Dark Ages. In the grand scheme, we're probably already there and nicely settled in.  

It is a couple of months over ten years since the horrifying Beslan school massacre in North Ossetia, in which almost 400 hundred people were killed, including a great many children. Like anyone I was stunned into numbness at that awful event, so much so that I felt compelled to include a reference to it in an email I sent to my promoting outfit's mailing list, only ever used to deliver information on our forthcoming shows. I remember clearly one response from a guy who upon receipt of it asked to be removed from the mailing list, as he had signed up to hear about concerts, not - I quote - my "fragile state of mind about the state of the world." I wonder how he is feeling today?

I vainly hoped against hope that the low humankind had descended to in the "modern era" with the Beslan siege might signal a turning point, whereby the perpetrators and those around the world who subscribe to such beliefs might begin to look inward, to question their methods, look at their ideologies, and find another way. But no, that is never going to happen.

My boss at the music store can hardly read the news these days. While he is a man deeply concerned about the planet, educating himself on environmental, economic and other important matters of life on earth, whenever such as today's events pop up in conversation, he tells me that his desperation at what is (increasingly) our dark world is "all too much," so - not in any ostrich-like way, but simply to keep sane - he tries to focus on the good and positive of the world, as thinking about the rest is unbearable. 

These are truly terrifying times. And it is all too much. With each successive dreadful event like today's, the world changes for the worse, and it is ominously feeling like there is no going back. I have tried so hard in recent years not to carry the weight of the world on my shoulders like I have done so much in the past, but it's getting difficult not to, as that weight is forcing itself upon everyone's shoulders, whether we like it or not.