Age is nothing.

Great weekend of softball, i was the youngest guy in the tournament and I feel like hell.  Some of these guys can really play, wooden bats and a 12 foot fence are great equalizers.

Planning continues for Dad’s memorial.  Should be a great night on the 23rd of June.  Emotional but worthwhile.

Unrelated sentences?  Not really?  It’s the great lesson of the past 12 weeks.    Life, by its nature, need not be short or long.  Being younger doesn’t mean you’re living better,faster, or longer.  Live to be 10 or 100 – but measure life not by longevity but by density.  Pack it all in.

The “life is short, play hard” idiom has merit, but don’t make it all play.  Think hard about what it all means.  Love your kids and your wives and husbands.  Hug your buddies.  Piss in the woods once in a while.  Cry on the beach.  Its all about the full experience of life, it makes us grow, and it builds the legacies that we are all entrusted with and hope to pass on.

Carole King once sang “My life has been a tapestry of rich and royal hue. An everlasting vision of the ever-changing view”.  But I believe our lives are defined less by our own view of the world, than how we are viewed in the visions of others.

Peace and love y’all.  2 cms of snow tonight.  Drink it in

Pretty

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Lottery Wins

I heard last night that a friend’s mother won $10K on a scratch ticket. How awesome is that?

Life, you know is like a lottery. My near-namesake Steve perry once sang “some will win/some will lose/some were born to sing the blues”. And while Journey aren’t exactly Dylan or Cohen when it comes to lyrics, the idea that most of our lives are a series of crap shoots holds some resonance for me.

The day I accepted a new job in Newfoundland, Dad posted on Facebook that “some people win the lottery, but I am luckier, the ‘Northern Princess’ is coming home’. Three days later, his next roll of the dice came with a diagnosis of advanced colon cancer.

Some would have you believe that the Almighty is the one rolling the dice, or controlling where they land. But if this is true, why is it done so irrationally? Why are some born into places of peace and prosperity, and others assigned to lives of squalor and sickness? Why do 8 year old boys and 61 year old grandpas get cancer, and pervert priests and other scum live into their 90s?

That is perhaps the greatest question of life, and I remain unconvinced that it’s anything but a massive lottery of humanity.

Those who play lotteries with huge jackpots are prone to say” there’s no way I could ever spend all of that!

If Dad was right, and the truest lottery wins bring life, love, family, and friendship, then our purpose on this planet is indeed to spend those wins as much as we can.

Anthems tonight, Go Caps Go!

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Big night da marr

Singing anthems for the big game tomorrow night!!! Easily one of the top moments of my life- not quite at the birth of Jane level but right up there with my first In and Out Burger and the time I hung out with WWE superstar Virgil.

koko B Ware, I will never forgive you

Go CAPS Go!

Pretty

Oh, and

I’m on the NL Blog Roll!  See who else is there!:

 

http://nlblogroll.blogspot.ca/

Seriously

Let me say that I have the utmost respect for people who have spiritual relationships with a higher power. Mick Jagger once sang that “we all need someone we can lean on”, and as usual he’s right (you can’t always get what you want, right?).

What I find increasingly hard to stomach is the literal interpretation of scripture, and specifically the overt personification of that higher power and worse still, the notion that he/she/it/they have a grand plan for all of us, that everything from the outcome of major sporting events to the award for Best R&B/Rap Vocal Performance to how each and everyone of us will meet our own end is all part of a plan.

Poppycock. Or more accurately, BS

Bullshit on two counts. Bullshit insofar as I don’t believe it, and never will believe it.  There’s no more a master plan up in the clouds than there’s one at the North Pole.  I can’t conceive and don’t believe in a God with a checklist.

Are our spirits rewarded with a more peaceful afterlife if we’re generally good people during our physical life – hopefully. I think so. I believe so. I mean, I certainly hope there’s a nasty punishment of some sort waiting for the Bernardo’s and Russell Williams and (insert name of local sex offender)’s of the world. I just don’t believe in the Column A/Column B approach to the rewards of the afterlife:

“Ok, Hitler you’re over there, Billy Graham you’re in row 2, John Browne, line up behind Bill……i’m sorry, it looks like you stole a 6 pack and smoked some reefer at a Jackson Browne concert once……line up behind Hitler. And you ma’am…..oh oh, pre-marital sex. Line up in front of Hitler”

But isn’t it also kind of bullshit even if you DO believe in the grand checklist? Doesn’t it make you want to throw your hands in the air and say “SERIOUSLY??? You’re doing THAT to HIM?  Today?”

These feelings aren’t simply part of my grieving process for Dad. I know the “why do bad things happen to good people” question is a very common part of loss. But that accident on Highway 63 this past week nearly sent me into a blind rage. A pastor? A 2 year old kid? A pregnant woman?

A 4 year old left to mourn both his parents and his little brother????  How does that make any sense.

Their deaths made me sad. Comments on Facebook and Twitter claiming that the “Master wanted to bring them home” or “they’re much happier now that they’re gathered together with Jesus” nearly sent me off the ledge.  You honestly believe that God made a concious decision to destroy the lives of a family of good, loving people who prayed to the same God you do, probably harder, and gave their physical lives to doing his work?

I had a good friend killed a few years ago, and that Christmas some ignoramous whackjob actually suggested on Facebook that he was jealous that my friend was getting to spend Jesus’s birthday in Heaven. Are you kidding me? How obnoxious and insensitive to the feelings of his family.

It comes down to this – believe what you will. Pray to whom you will pray, grieve however you wish. But please stop trying to comfort those who are early in their grieving that this was simply God’s ticking off another box on his naughty and nice list.. Some of us are looking for a place to put our anger, and suggesting death is all God’s doing probably isn’t the best thing for our spiritual growth in the long term.

Rock lives, I may not

Great show last night, good to hang out with the boys. My left eye may be partially detached, or at least it feels that way. Things I learned last night:

– a small kit works wonders. Sean, drummer for the Trews, has a monstrous sound with a very basic set up.

– there is no such thing as a bad hockey game in a luxury box.

– even grown men love huge pink drinks. And monkey fingers and curly fries. Tough lot.

– the most racist man in the province drives a Newfound Cab. His names Jerry. The only thing worse than his Chinese accent is his sense of direction in fog. Not exactly the best ambassador for tourism in the province.

– I have seen a picture of the worlds ugliest woman. The words “Patrick Ewing in drag” should say it all. Yes, with mustache.

Anyway, here comes Easter with its salty ham and creamy side dishes and Jesus Christ Superstar on the TV. Sure fire cure for what ails ya.

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By popular demand……introducing the Stephen Pretty blog

Of all the questions people ask me, “do you have a blog” is the 3rd most common.

#2 is “how do you remember so much useless information”?  And while I haven’t heard it as much lately, “were you raised by gorillas?” established such a lead in middle school, it may never be surpassed……….

And now, I can finally answer yes to question #3 (BTW, the answer to #2 is”i’m not sure”, and the answer to #1 is “it depends on what your definition of gorilla is”.

So here I am blogosphere, ready to entertain myself, confound readers, and most importantly find a conduit to express my many thoughts, emotions, beliefs, and bad jokes:

(Q. Why can’t some melons have destination weddings?

A. Because they can’t elope (canteloupe))

As I develop the blog, i’ll probably have some common features.  I’d like to introduce you to a few musical artists that I really dig, and in a special feature we’ll call “Kick in the Pills”, I’ll give you a name of someone i’d like to kick in his nether regions –  first on the list: Frank D’Angelo.  Yes, the Cheetah Power Surge, Rapini and Cippolini guy.  More on that in a few days.

Besides that, It’s the kind of musings on life that I often post as tweets or status updates, in long form, without it showing up in the news feed of relatives or acquaintances who might not want to read everything I say.

Bottom line is: my life’s been a bit of a whirlwind the past 18 months.  Watching my daughter grow big and strong while my father grew weaker and eventually left us taught me a few things about fatherhood, family, and life.  You might all learn something from reading; i know i’ll learn and grow by expressing them in words.

Peace and love

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