Born in Isolation

I woke up 10 minutes before my phone alarm went off.  For some reason, my body anticipates what's going to happen and warns me about it.  I hate waking up to an alarm, but of course, I need to, so I set it.

I hit snooze and I doze off again only to have the alarm ringing and flashing in my face moments later.  Should have listened to my instincts.

I've been getting up early.  I want to accomplish some things.  I want to work on some personal projects.  First thing in the morning is the right time to do that, but since I have a wife and kids, I needed to bump up my "first thing in the morning" a few hours.

This week I continue the journey, a journey that began last month on a memorable morning.

So there I was, up early.  It was still dark outside and I stepped out into the silence of the stars.  It was so quiet outside that I felt that my breathing was interrupting something.  I felt like I had just walked out on something going on.

Have you ever been in a room that was so quiet that you couldn't handle it?  You needed to clear your throat or swallow or something and when you did the sound hurt your ears?  That's what it felt like that morning, only I was outside.

I was alone in the constant churning of science.  Trees, snow, and air, all turning and growing unseen.  The light had yet to peak out from the East but I could see a glow coming from the City; a city that was asleep.

The day had yet to begin, had yet to be born, and I was off to create something with my brain, hands and heart on my computer.  For a rare moment in my life, I felt like I got the jump on things.

I share an office in the main building at the camp I work at, so I wandered over there for a couple hours to work on personal projects; China stories, video projects, and blogs.  Things like that.

That morning I did some things.  I felt like I had accomplished so much all before breakfast.  My wife and kids were asleep in the next building over.  No interruptions.  The whole world was asleep for all I knew.  I could focus in the isolation.  It was quite a nice time.

I heard recently that the brain works like a muscle.  It's stronger and keener first thing in the morning.  I can testify to this.  I broke through a few "writer's blocks" in that first morning.  I was definitely encouraged that I could make time to make things.  I could find a quiet place to create.

My new schedule has a few extra hours tacked on to the beginning of a few days a week.  Now that I've seen the light, I can't go back.

This is my proclamation that within these early mornings I choose to live!  I take all of my excuses, hold them up against the wall to make them sweat, and then I choke them to death!

It will take time, like chipping away at a rock.  But I am sure that, if I just make time for myself, I can bring things to life.

May you be encouraged to shake off the rust and start living all of those things you've been meaning to breathe in to but just couldn't find the time.

The time is now!

Oilers Winter

No matter how much Kevin Lowe or Wayne Gretzky talk about the Oilers future, I can't help but think about that seen in Terminator 2 where the playground and people explode all over the place.  This team has to be close to Judgment Day.

We have moseiers, wanders, and gritty-heavies trying to earn newer and shinier contracts with this wreak.  I'm not going to name names but Ryan Jones.

We've got veterans getting traded, fading, and chasing records.  Heart and soul, but not much else.  

Most worrisomely, we've got a handful of early twenty-somethings who seem to have already lived a thousand years on careers spanning a hundred games or two.

This is really where the Edmonton Oilers have come to lay down and die.  Look into Taylor Hall's eyes and tell me you don't see an endless highway to nowhere.

This Organization needs to release everyone.  President, GM, coaches, players, Joey Moss, the Cheerleaders, the radio guys.

They need a new goal horn.  They need new jerseys.  They need new everything.

I hope they can avoid all that.  I hope these young guys can taste the playoffs sometime before my 6 year old gets married.

What I hope is that they can pick themselves up out of the muck and fight back.  Someone needs to make some easy decisions already!

Someone in the higher ups needs to see that this team has too many pedestrians getting too many free passes across the street.  

They've got endless patience for Ryan Jones but only 100 games for a #1 overall pick?!  Lunacy!

This winter has been too dang long watching half a hockey team fight for 13th.   

I bought satellite to watch the Oilers and I'm left with this junk.

 

Here comes the Misery!

This year, the poorly thought out slogan of the Edmonton hockey club is "Here come the Oilers!"  Here they come, alright.  And there they go, straight down.  Down, down.

Pronger kissed this city goodbye and the good times fell asleep.  We wake up every few years to believe that the dream is over, only to see that it's a trick, and the nightmare, it seems, will never, ever end.  Freddie Kruger is real and he lives under your TV.

The team began the tumble down the mountain in 2006.  It rolled down, through FA pickups and the revolving door of gritty something or others.  Joffery Lupul, Peter Sykora, and Eric Cole came and went.  Sheldon Souray was not quite "Oiler" enough.  Dany Heatley just couldn't bring himself to do it.  The list goes on and on.  Band aids on a gushing hemorrhage.

The team rolled all the way down the mountain and passed through the Valley of the Shadow of Death down a dark hole.  And it just keeps on tumbling down into the depths of what just might be H.E. double hockey sticks.

The flames are hot.  The agony seemingly never ending.

Where are we?
What happened?
Game 5.   Pisani.

It truly seems like a dream.  That team had a kid on it named Hemsky, who is now the veteran that everyone is hoping will be traded away for... anything... anything but his no heart attitude.

Kevin Lowe is now a dirty word.  I wonder what he's thinking right now.  When your job is to develop a good hockey team, what goes through your mind when you have not done your job for 7 years?

Tambellini seemed like he was purposely trying to ruin this team into top draft picks.  He took great pride when his shining moment arrived every year for 3 years in a row.  He smiled his sweaty smile and announced to the world how proud he was to select Taylor Hall.  How much of an honour it was for him to select RNH.  How special it was to select the Russian.  What an amazing feeling it was to be the worst team in hockey for almost a decade.  The laughing stock of the league.

The jokes about the Oilers continued on for years until it got boring; boring and sad.  The Oilers have been so bad that making jokes about them seems to be insensitive.  Like joking around with a child, only to have that child unexpectedly cry.  

"Oops, sorry kid.  I didn't mean to make you cry.  Things will turn around.  You've got a good bunch of young players there.  Just stop crying, will ya'?"

Jeff Petry is useless.  He plays 25 minutes a night, but he also makes mistakes, so apparently he's useless.  Lets trade him away so our top pairing can be Ference and Belov.  Now there, my friends, is a pair of #1 guys.  Let's roll with them.  Roll down into Hell.  

"Good riddance, Jeff.  We don't have any other NHL defensemen to play top minutes, so it's your fault."

The Oilers are broken and battered.  It isn't so much that they are this low.  Reality sets in when we realize that we thought "rock bottom" was 3 years ago.  We have talent now, but the results are as bad, if not worse than before.  Have we hit the bottom yet?  Maybe not.

Maybe they'll sign 32 year old Hiller in the off season and re-up the blue line for one more go at it.  If Hiller doesn't work, MacT and the boys will probably scratch their heads and try again with someone with more experience or grit... some goalie with the magical ability to make the defence in front of him play much, much better.

This team, the 2013-2014 Edmonton Oilers will toe-drag/drop pass/coast/drown their way through the rest of their 30 games.  The management might keep things mildly interesting by trading a few people for a few other people.  How many goalies can they dress this year?

This year I paid for Satellite so that I could watch the Oilers.

Even though I swore that I wouldn't give the NHL a dime for a long, long time, I bought my kid a $40 Oiler jersey because he asked for one for Christmas.  My boy is 6.  He's still too young to realize that the Oilers have been horrible his entire life.  I would like him to get into loving hockey, but what kind of messed up message does the Oiler organization serve up to a kid his age?

At his school, the teachers tell the kids to wear their Oilers stuff the day after they win.  I am waiting for the morning where I have to tell Miles that they lost again and he starts crying because he wants to wear his jersey.

It's gone generational now, Oilers.  What can be done?  What can we do with this misery?