Not that I’m actively engaged in villainy at the moment, but if I were, I’d be a nervous wreck. I’m trying to give frank and useful criticism/writing advice to a friend of mine, and now that I’ve sent that advice to him, I’m anxious and nervous. As per usual, I am exaggerating the fragility of other human beings as I imagine him reading my email and crumpling to the ground, weeping and burning his manuscript to embers.

And why do I assume that every person is on the verge of utter ego collapse, so delicate that any unsavory news should be avoided or, at the very least, delivered with the softest of kid gloves? A very good question. I always ask myself very good questions.  Well, I’m going to chalk this eccentricity to a fondness for dramatic resolution, coupled with a devious pessimism still lingering from my childhood. My creative little brain likes to come up with the biggest and flashiest possible scenario, and tragedy gives you the biggest bang for your buck.

Most people are resilient beasts, able to take a crushing amount of disappointment and sadness and still pick themselves up and continue on. Then again, some people fall apart when their coffee isn’t hot enough. Humanity is funny sometimes. Anyway, I hope he takes my advice with good humour and still likes me afterwards. It’s always about being liked.

Speaking of being liked, I love humanity. Yes, that does sound strange, but that is the literal meaning of ‘philanthropy’. It’s an interesting concept because it goes beyond an act of charity and more towards a way of living life. I’m just going to quote the Wikipedia article here, partly because I’m lazy, but mostly because it is how I feel:

“Put simply, philanthropy is the pursuit of excellence in every facet of human life, for every human life, by imagining and implementing new systems, to bring that philosophy to fruition.”

When we worry only about ourselves, when we close our doors to our neighbours and shut our borders to the vulnerable, we lose sight of our potential. Your profits are meaningless if your community withers around you. Anyone who tells you that you should be afraid of the “chaos lapping at our shores” is trying to manipulate you and trick you into giving up on the inherent goodness of humanity. Don’t.

This weekend, go do some good. Start small, so small that you don’t feel any inconvenience at all. I call it ‘lazy philanthropy’.

My wonderful friend and hostess with the mostest Jenn hosted a book launch barbecue for me on Sunday. It was a small and casual affair, which is exactly as I had wanted it. There is a limit to the number of people who can crowd around a table to celebrate anything, and I think I’ve made peace with some people getting upset at a lack of invitation. I would have loved to invite each and every person who has had a positive impact on me and helped me in my creative journey, but you’re always going to miss someone. For the record, there are dozens of other people who have been fantastic and supportive. Not just buying a copy of the book, but giving me the experience and wisdom that allows me to write in the first place. So, if you are in that camp and you were left off the invite list, I apologize. Don’t think that you aren’t a special little camper. I just can’t manage a giant crowd of people focused on me….yet (Mwa-ha-ha-ha).

I also decided to skip an official speech or sales pitch to the attendees. On a practical level, most of them had already bought copies, so selling to them would have been milking a dry cow. And I spend most gatherings nattering on at length anyway, so it was more humane to the guests to limit my speechifying.

Max had a blast playing with chum during the party, and after the chum went home Max moved on to a tickle war with the friendly librarian Lindsay. In the course of their tickle fight, I’m pretty sure that Max inadvertently got to second base a couple of times. He is quite advanced.

It is an interesting and somewhat odd experience to  have your friends admire you. One of them actually said he was proud of me. I should really stop being surprised when someone I’m not married to is proud of me: If I’m doing things correctly, it’s bound to keep happening.

It was a fantastic night filled with friends and family, despite the summer cold kicking my ass and my wife’s ass at the same time. The best payout for the evening was the giant basket full of non-perishable goods we collected for the Food Bank. With almost no effort, we did a good thing. Yay lazy philanthropy!

A sidenote about my predictable body. Whenever I go through a period of heightened stress, there will be a brief few days afterward where I will be very tired, and after these days pass, illness will thunder down upon me. Everytime. Mark it on the calendar and cancel any appointments. I suspect that my body keeps a pet virus stored away in my left eustachian tube, ready for rapid release into my throat at the drop of a hat. The spot where my eustachian tube and my throat meet is ground zero for every cold that I’ve had in recent memory. And, although I acknowledge that a cold takes 7-10 days to run its course, I am tired of waiting for it to be done (it’s day 6 today). Boo to sickness.

 

There’s a fearsome thunderstorm blowing in, and it could very well knock out our surprisingly fragile electrical supply. Let’s see if I can post before the power goes out.

We went on a family outing to Heeman’s Strawberry farm today and it was an informative trip for me. I didn’t learn a thing about strawberries (not that I expected to) but I did get a lesson in ethical business.  Out front of the building there was a charity barbecue, raising funds for the Terry Fox Run, and every employee was wearing a ‘Run for The Cure’ t-shirt. With a very simple and cost-effective effort, the good people at Heemans were taking part in the community around them and giving back to it. And for the last two weeks, Heemans has donated a field of their pick-your-own strawberries to Community Harvest. The berries were picked by volunteers, and those berries were shipped out to the food bank and other front-line services in town. What a simple way to make things better.

I’m more ambitious than informed right now, which I think is a normal stage for someone looking to help out.  It turns out that there are already good, ethical businesses who love their community and want to make it a better place for everyone. I have to remember to be patient and learn about the community before I rush off trying to save it. There’s no need to re-invent the wheel.

In other news, my little dude serenaded the wife and I yesterday with a rousing rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’ for our country. There is nothing better than hearing a cheerful 3-year-old belt out “happy birthday, dear Canada!”. And during bedtime tonight, he decided that he would tell me a story about yesterday. You see, after we read a few books and turn off the lights, he usually likes to hear a story. The story must be a factual retelling of the day’s events, with no silly business. But tonight, after I began the story of today’s trip to the strawberry farm, he stopped me and said that he wanted to tell the story of Canada Day. He clarified that he wasn’t going to tell the whole story, just the beginning, and after that point I would take over. This is how he began it:

“One day, somebody had a birthday. But they weren’t people like you and me, people with skin. It was Canada’s birthday”. So there you go. No skin on Canada. That boy is something else.