#MicroblogMondays: I got nothing

This is kind of a cheat post. I really have nothing significant to say this week;  I just didn't want to miss a #MM. ;)  I am still, like many of you, stunned and heartbroken and upset by the U.S. election results and subsequent fallout. (And I'm not even American...!) The struggle continues, I guess, but sometimes, you just get tired of struggling... :(   I truly feel for those of you who have had to explain the inexplicable to your children.  :(

No doubt part of the reason I am feeling moody & lethargic is that I sense Aunt Flo hovering in the background, ready to make a splashy (hoping that's not literal) entrance. I have never been anxious to meddle in a natural process, but seriously, how long is this going to drag on??!  I'm going to be 56 in the not-too-distant future;  I have been dealing with AF since I was 11.  45 years of this is really QUITE enough, thankyouverymuch. :p  Am I going to be 60 & still having to put up with this crap??!  

On the bright side, it's mid-November and the weather has (still) been gorgeous. Of course, this is all very likely due to global warming and the impending doom of our planet -- but hey, 13C/55F on Nov. 14th! 

(And as I write that date out, it occurs to me that this was my original due date back in 1998, i.e., Katie's 18th would-be birthday. No wonder I'm in a mood... )

You can find more of this week's #MicroblogMondays posts here.     

The morning after

On the other hand, I will never have to explain the existence of President Trump to a child...

(U.S.) Election Day

Sunday morning, one of my American relatives -- a staunch supporter of Hillary Clinton, who knows I am the same -- invited me to join a private Facebook group of Hillary supporters called Pantsuit Nation. When I joined, membership was just over 1.1 million;  by this (Tuesday/Election Day) morning, it was just under 2.5 million. This afternoon, it was 2.7 million.  The group was founded to encourage women to wear pantsuits to the polls today to demonstrate their support for Hillary Clinton and the election of America's first female president -- but (as the story I linked to indicates), it has become so much more. It's a "safe" space where Hillary's supporters can openly share their stories about why they are voting for her and why it means so much to them to be able to vote for the first woman president. The stories are funny and sad, heartwarming and inspirational.

Dh was in the shower this morning and I was scrolling through my feed, looking at stories & photos -- umpteen photos of entire families going to vote, proud mothers with little girls. Tributes to mothers and grandmothers who endured incredible sexism, and survived it all to bring up strong women.

My own American mother has been a staunch Republican most of her life. She abhors Donald Trump, but she has absolutely no use for Hillary Clinton either (although she adores Bernie Sanders -- go figure!!). I don't think she voted this time around, although she did vote for Barack Obama. We were at my parents' house when the Democratic convention was on & she sat there making cutting remarks throughout the rollcall and Hillary's acceptance speech. I finally had to ask her, nicely, to knock it off;  maybe this historic nomination didn't mean anything to her, but it meant something to me. Needless to say, I cannot share my excitement over the possible election of America's first woman president tonight with her.

(Yes, I'm Canadian & not American; we've already had a woman prime minister, 20+ years ago, and I have no vote in this election -- but it's still a pretty frickin' big deal, no matter where you're sitting.) 

So I was scrolling through my feed, and I don't know why this one particular story & photo affected me the way it did -- a photo of a mother and her young daughter -- nothing I hadn't seen  before in the hundreds of other posts that preceded it -- but out of the blue, I started sobbing, with big fat tears rolling down my cheeks.

How I wish I had my (not so) little girl here with me to share this historic night. :(

#MicroblogMondays: Dear America

Like many people, my anxiety levels have been going through the roof recently, in the days leading up to the U.S. election. Yes, I am Canadian, not American, but as most people living outside the States (let alone right next door) are only too aware, what happens in America affects the entire world. As the father of our current prime minister once quipped, "Living next to you [the U.S.] is in some ways like sleeping with an elephant. No matter how friendly and even-tempered is the beast, if I can call it that, one is affected by every twitch and grunt."

Like many Canadians, too, I have family on both sides of the border -- and on both sides of the political spectrum (which has made Facebook a constant exercise in biting my cybertongue over the past year). Whatever the outcome of the election, I suspect the next few months, perhaps years, are not going to be pretty.

I find myself thinking about the closing days of the second Quebec referendum on independence, which was held October 30, 1995 -- 15 years after the first referendum of 1980, and 21 years ago now (!). Like the current U.S. election, it was a vote that had the power to change my life dramatically (and not in a good way) -- but also one that I had absolutely no say in.  The tension in the days leading up to the referendum was almost unbearable. The "Yes" (for Quebec independence) side ran ads showing a falling maple leaf, with a caption in French that translated, ominously, to "In autumn, the maple leaf falls."  A few days before the referendum, there was a rally for the "No" (remain in Canada) side in Montreal. I was in the middle of year-end projects at work and could not go, but I think if I could have, I would have. I remember it was a cold, grey, rainy day, reflecting the mood of the country.  Busloads of people from across the country converged on Montreal, waving huge Canadian flags, with the message, "Please stay." Many pundits predicted it was too little, too late.

I remember the night of the referendum, and the countdown to 8 p.m., when news coverage of the results would begin. I was beside myself, on the verge of tears. Curiously, once the clock struck 8 and the show began (the soothing tones & presence of CBC's Peter Mansbridge, lol), I started feeling better.

It was still a tense evening. It was very, VERY close. The "No" side ( = remain part of Canada) won by an extremely narrow majority of 50.58%.  Believe me, a country can be a very fragile thing -- and your vote DOES matter.

Good luck, America.

You can find more of this week's #MicroblogMondays posts here.     

Odds & ends

• It's November.  Will I be writing an "I hate November" post? A lot has changed over the past few years that has had me soften my position somewhat -- although I don't think it will ever be my favourite month. Lots of changes this past year as well. Of course, the outcome of the U.S. election could have a big impact on how I feel, for better or worse...!  ;)  I guess time will tell...
• My blogrolls are back in the sidebar!! Yay!! 
• In the continuing saga of the scented air freshener outside our door in the hallway, you'll recall that dh unplugged the thing & moved it down the hall. A couple of days ago,  he noticed that it had disappeared completely. The one at the other end of the hallway was still there, which makes us think that someone down the hall liked having an air freshener outside their door about as much as we did. Hopefully management/the board will get the hint...
• I recently read this interview in The Atlantic with Belle Boggs, author of "The Art of Waiting" (which I haven't read yet, but really want to now...!). As the tagline says, "Belle Boggs explores the meaning of infertility in a culture that venerates parenthood above all else." I thought they covered some really excellent points. What happens when ARTs don't work?  (Spoiler alert: Boggs did eventually have a child.) Have a read & let me know your thoughts!

"Just Between You and Me" by Myles Goodwyn

Back in the 1970s and early 1980s, there were few homegrown bands that were bigger in Canada than April Wine.

(Strangely enough, although I saw many of the top Canadian bands & singers of the day -- Burton Cummings (several times), Trooper (ditto), Harlequin (used to play at our high school & university residence dances), Loverboy, Bryan Adams (dh saw him at a bar near the university we both attended, just before he hit the big time), Dan Hill, Max Webster (with Kim Mitchell), Streetheart, Prism, the Headpins, Downchild Blues Band, Powder Blues Band -- I never did see April Wine in concert.) 

You may not have heard of them in the States or elsewhere in the world (although they did enjoy some modest success, in certain markets south of the border as well as in Europe -- I had no idea that five April Wine songs/videos were played by MTV on its first day of existence) -- but the distinctive, instantly recognizable voice of lead singer Myles Goodwyn is part of the soundtrack of my growing up years. "Bad Side of the Moon" (written by Elton John & Bernie Taupin) was played endlessly at the (ice) skating rink when I was about 13; hearing "You Won't Dance With Me" takes me back to junior high dances, where I watched the boy(s) I had crushes on slow-dancing with someone else. (Oh, the angst!!)

Anyway -- for all my familiarity with April Wine's music, I didn't know much about the band itself.   So when I was at the bookstore a few weeks ago & saw Myles Goodwyn's new memoir, "Just Between You & Me" (which takes its title from the 1981 April Wine song of the same name -- which I slow-danced to at university parties -- take that, junior high boys!! lol), I couldn't resist snapping it up.

Born Miles Francis Goodwin in Woodstock, New Brunswick, Goodwyn grew up poor, mostly in Nova Scotia (that fact I did know about him). His mother died of brain cancer at a tragically young age when Myles was 11, and he remembers very little of his childhood prior to that point. Music and nature became his solace, and when he was a teenager, he started playing in bands. He, his neighbourhood friends, brothers David & Ritchie Henman, and their cousin Jim Henman, formed April Wine in 1969.

I especially enjoyed the early parts of the book describing Goodwyn's growing up years and his early days performing. I probably could have done without all the detailed descriptions of the comings and goings of the various April Wine band members through the years (14 over 40+ years) and the making of one album after another -- although those parts did serve to remind me of songs I had completely forgotten about (such as "Right Down on Top of Me," "Cum Hear the Band," and "If You See Kay" -- let that one sink in for a moment, lol). 

Unfortunately, April Wine's enormous success devolved into the all-too-common sad litany of bad management decisions, record company rip-offs, infighting among the group members, drugs, alcohol, ego and burnout, that has plagued so many talented bands over the years. (To quote another April Wine song, "Rock and Roll is a Vicious Game.") Along the way, Goodwyn has dealt with alcoholism (which nearly killed him in 2008) and diabetes, as well as two divorces and their effects on his three children. He speaks out for the first time about some of these things, including why the band first broke up in 1982, and his relationships (or lack thereof) with the other members. He has a reputation for being difficult, and accepts his own share of the blame for the problems he and the band encountered over the years -- but he also comes across here as a straight shooter determined to tell the truth as he sees it, combined with a sense of humour.

Now 68 and a grandfather (!), Goodwyn is still writing and performing music, both with April Wine (on a slightly reduced schedule) and his own band. "Life is good," he says, and I am glad. This has been a hard year for us baby boomers, music-wise, with the passing of so many of our youthful musical heroes (David Bowie, Glenn Frey, Paul Kantor, Prince...). I am grateful that so many of the ones who are still here are still performing and are now sharing their stories with us. Thank you, Myles Goodwyn, for being one of them. :)

If you're a Canadian of a certain vintage, this book will bring back some memories! 

This was book #21 that I've read so far in 2016.

*** *** ***

Naturally, ever since I picked this book up, I've had April Wine songs playing on a continuous loop in my head. ;)  It's hard for me to pick a favourite (there are so many great ones!), but these two (from their 1975 album "Stand Back," which I owned as a teenager) would be right up there. One is harder edged, the other more pop, and I love them both:  "Tonight is a Wonderful Time to Fall in Love" and "Oowatanite." 

Childless/Condo Halloween

My feelings about Halloween, as a bereaved childless parent, have been complicated. Unlike some bereaved parents/childless-not-by-choicers, I have never wanted to opt out of Halloween completely -- turn the lights out & hide, or spend the night at the movies. I've always enjoyed carving a pumpkin and setting it out on our doorstep on Halloween night, and handing out candy to adorable little trick-or-treaters.

(Which is not to say I haven't felt some pangs or closed the door with tears in my eyes over the past 18 years.)

At the same time, while I did set out the pumpkin & put up a Halloween-themed wreath on the door & cut-outs in the windows facing the street, we never went all out with the decorations, as some of our neighbours did. I just didn't have the energy (or the desire, to be honest). Which only added to my guilt -- clearly, I was not cut out to be a suburban mom, right? (Although I am sure that, had we had children, I would have made more of an effort to be more festive for their sakes.)  And while I loved dressing up as a kid, and during my student days for our annual Halloween parties, as an adult, it's always seemed like more of a chore than anything else to think up, shop for and put together a costume. I haven't done it in years.

Halloween was very different for us this year. As I said, I've never wanted to avoid Halloween -- but living in a condo makes it an entirely different experience than we had at our house. Security doors, plus bylaws against solicitation and holiday decorations on doors and balconies, plus the absence of all but a very few children living in our building, meant no decorations, no trick-or-treaters knocking at our doors. (By now at the house, most of our trick-or-treaters would have come & gone, so I think I can feel safe in typing that, lol.)  We did buy a box of treats to have on hand, just in case, but it looks like we're going to be eating it all ourselves. (Oh, the horror!! Right?? lol )

I suppose we could have carved a pumpkin this year, if only for our own enjoyment. But dh has never been keen on the whole pumpkin thing -- he only went along with it to humour me -- and I insisted on it because, tradition!! & how else could we signal to the trick-or-treaters that we were open for business?? This year, even I had to agree it was pretty pointless. I do have a fake pumpkin that lights up inside, but I lacked the energy & motivation to dig through our storage locker in the parking garage to find it. :p

It was a very strange day.

In past years, at least, we had a bit of a presence on the periphery of all the Halloween hoopla. This year, I felt totally apart/shut out from everything -- nose pressed against the glass, watching from a distance as life went merrily on without me, oblivious to my presence, while Facebook & Instagram paraded an endless stream of fun photos & reports from my friends & relatives. What was once a special occasion, a date to be circled on the calendar & to be planned and prepared for (candy & pumpkin to buy, decorations to haul up from the basement) -- a link to my own childhood, a fingerhold in the life that might have been mine as a parent, something I could participate in along with the rest of the world -- has now become just another day. It's harder, in a way, to be watching completely from the sidelines, at a distance, than it was to be handing out candy to little trick-or-treaters and seeing in them and their proud parents the life that might have been mine with our daughter.

My hope is that, in a few years' time, we'll have some great-nieces and nephews, and that their parents will bring them over so we can ooh & ahhh over their costumes and shower them with treats. :) (Or invite us over to see them before they head out for trick-or-treating.)

Until then, I'll be the one watching from the sidelines, stuffing my face with chocolate, and living vicariously through other people's social media posts.