Hey Steve...

Hey Steve,

Long time, no chat… How have you been? Still having trouble sleeping?

You really shouldn’t let that video of Justin Trudeau stripping bother you so much. Sure, he’s 12 years younger than you and slightly more toned but I don’t think too many people noticed. Nobody picks a Prime Minister based solely on looks… Thank God, right?

I agree that the attack ads seemed a little desperate but what are you supposed to do? We can’t give Canadians the time to actually make an informed decision. They worked so well with Dion and Ignatieff – how were you supposed to know that people would see right through them this time? I mean, Dion was easy because of the language barrier and Ignatieff was easy because of that face, but Trudeau will be a little harder to demonize. I think the “not ready to lead” angle is a good way to go as long as nobody actually looks into it. It’s not like people can just Google your experience when you were elected party leader and compare it to his, is it? That would be bad…

Follow Your Bliss or: Happy Birthday To Me

“Follow your bliss and the universe will open doors for you where there were only walls.”

- Joseph Campbell

I hope I do not come across as one of those self-satisfied jerks who thinks he has it all figured out, because nothing could be further from the truth. I am just as scared and insecure as you are. I “self-medicate” when necessary and routinely find myself wide-awake at four AM wondering: “what the fuck am I doing with my life?” I question the decisions I have made and worry that I have messed everything up by quitting my job and chasing my dreams.

I didn’t really have a choice.

I saw myself at 72 (don’t ask me why) and didn’t like what I saw. This older version of myself was not very happy. He had a lot of regrets. He kept repeating the same question over and over: “why didn’t I try?”

Somewhere, deep inside, I always wanted to be a storyteller.

Did The Lord Of The Rings Make Me Gay?

fantasize

(fan-ta-size) verb

indulge in daydreaming about something desired; I used to fantasize about Hobbits.

I read The Lord Of The Rings long before I understood what it was all about. Our family had a condensed version, where all three volumes were combined into one giant book. It weighed as much as I did.

I was literally in the closet back then. Due to a large window beside my bed and an irrational fear of being eaten alive in the middle of the night by wild animals, I slept in a built-in closet at the foot of my bed. At night, huddled beneath my blankets with a flashlight, I would read until the lines began to blur together and I could not keep my eyes open any longer. I would underline and write down all of the words I did not understand and look them up the next day.