The End of an Era

Well my friends, it's now official. After 18 straight seasons and close to a thousand games in net, my hockey career is at an end. I'm announcing my retirement from the game I love so much.

To say it’s been a difficult decision is an enormous understatement. In a lot of ways, hockey has been with me throughout my entire adult life. I was not lucky enough to play the game as a youngster. Rather, I picked it up during college intramurals and was instantly hooked. I actually started as a forward, but as fate would have it, our goalie failed to show up for a game and I jumped in net as a last-minute replacement. The rest, as they say, is history.

I love everything about hockey, from the simplicity of the sport at its very heart to the intricacies of playmaking and challenges of strategy that can frustrate even the most seasoned veteran. Streaks and slumps, shutouts and blowouts, uplifting wins and humbling losses - they all combine to truly make this "the best game you can name."

And then there is the camaraderie no other sport offers. Players of all skill levels, abilities and aptitudes have challenged me to bring my best to the ice each game, and we've celebrated over many beers in countless dark dressing rooms and parking lots. I've played in Alaska, Texas, Oklahoma and now hockey Mecca: Canada! What a thrill to end my career here where hockey is bigger than all other sports combined and where a nation gather in rinks large and small to play the game or cheer its pursuit by skaters young and old. I've won championships in the triumph of overtimes and shootouts and lost them as well, in agonizing fashion. But if I could, I'd gladly give up my nights and weekends to play this game for the rest of my days.

However time, it seems, has finally caught up to me. My knees, hips and back are just not able to take another year of pounding between the pipes. The spirit is indeed willing, but the body is not. I know I will miss the rink, my teammates and the complete sensory experience that playing hockey has meant to me. But one ending makes for a new beginning, and it's time to turn the page and look forward to another adventure.

So to all I've have the privilege of skating with and against, I extend my most humble and heartfelt thanks. It's been a wonderful journey, and one that I'd gladly relive again if given the chance. At the end of it all, I'm just so happy and proud to have had the chance to experience the game the way it was meant to be played. Pure, simple and above all, wonderful...

Balcony Time Is Back!

There is something uniquely satisfying about time spent outdoors observing the comings and goings of others. My balcony sits at the perfect angle and height above the sidewalk to really get close to passers-by while still keeping distant enough to avoid detection. OK, maybe that sounds like spying, not observing, so let me attempt to clarify.

I simply love people watching. The little things really stand out for me. Mainly items others might miss: the gaits with which people walk, the way people make eye contact with others they meet, or the degree to which people take in their surroundings as they stroll by. Sometimes I try to imagine where they might be going, what’s on their minds or perhaps some other small read of their lives during the few short seconds they occupy my gaze.

I’m not really sure why, but the trivia of life and people has always fascinated me. All the little things that make up a life, most of which we may not even realize as we experience them. In a way, it’s very much like seeing the trees, and the forest, all together and separately – yet simultaneously.

Sometimes when there aren’t a lot of pedestrians in view, I turn my attention to the passing cars on the street. In the same way, I look at the little things. Not at the cars themselves (although they surely tell their own stories) but rather at their occupants, drivers and passengers alike. Are they talking, listening to music, texting (horror!) or merely lost in their own thoughts? Pondering these seemingly microscopic details enthralls me, much as I suppose a photographer is captivated by a single flower or blade of grass, or perhaps in the way a painter agonizes over the tiniest brush stroke or element of colour.

It's at these times I realize I’m completely content being in the world, and yet separated from it in the same instant. Watching, listening but above all experiencing things in their own time and space. That’s life in “high definition” from where I sit. And in taking the time to read this, you have shared the experience with me in some small measure. So thanks very much for that!

All Hail Lord Stanley and Tim Thomas!

Another NHL season has come to a close with the awarding of the Stanley Cup to the Boston Bruins. I'm not one to bandwagon-hop, but seeing Tim Thomas skate the cup was pretty damned gratifying. As a fellow "senior citizen" goaltender, the no-nonsense manner in which Thomas carried himself (and his team) was something I could totally get behind.

Clearly Vancouver was the better team statistically, and though it pains me as a new Canadian to see the Cup stay on the south side of the 49th parallel for another year, I can't say I'm not pleased with the end result. When all was done, the Bruins had spent more time working their game, and less time working the referees, than the did Canucks. And TT polished off gem after gem for all of us to see.

I'll steer clear of the sport-as-metaphor-for-life angle, for it's way, way overdone in my view. Heck, for all I know Tim Thomas could be a total jerk. But I doubt it. Part of me wants desperately to believe in the triumph of will over skill that I think we all can relate to at a certain level. And deep down, I know that what we saw from Tim speaks volumes about his character. In my mind, he is the real deal.

As I myself look forward to another season of beer league hockey - knowing each year could be my last at this point - I'll keep Tim Thomas clearly in mind as my example. Work hard, play your guts out, have fun and let the results speak for themselves. And really, isn't that all any of us can aspire to...?

Summertime, and The Living is... well, Complicated

The way things have gone weather-wise in southern Alberta this year, it’s hard to call what we’re now experiencing summer. Yet the calendar says it’s June and, since we are undoubtedly in the northern hemisphere, summer must be what this is.  Ironically, after all the complaining this past winter brought, "this" does not feel (at least not yet) anywhere near worth all the trouble.

Still, as I sit on the balcony contemplating the meaning of things, I find myself drawn back in time to summers past and balconies present. Warm sun, cold drinks, insightful music and compelling conversation all add up to thoroughly satisfying times consumed in the pursuit of nothing consequential. Nothing, that is, save simply being in the here and now: no world-weary concerns or cares to serve as distractions.

Sometimes, merely watching the day go by is pursuit enough. Allowing for the passage of time above all else seems oddly purposeful and fulfilling, when taking in the true measure of things. Like the sound of a mellow jazz vibe enjoyed under the swaying branch of a wind-kissed tree, life is best savoured in the moment.

I was reminded again this week of the fragility of life. All things have an expiry date, whether a carton of milk, bottle of beer, ripe banana or the whole of human existence. And despite our bravado to the contrary, we humans are no less subject to the inevitability of nature than any of our fellow creatures. The simple fact is that if we fail to acknowledge our own mortality, all is for naught.

Which, in an albeit roundabout way, brings me full circle.  As I sit in the warm June sun and think of times past and wonder about times to come, I feel a sense of quiet contentment that things unfold the way they must. If, for no other reason, than to remind us of the very fact that we are unique among the denizens of this world. We alone recognize the concept of times past, present and future. All other species on Earth live exclusively in, and can only even conceive of, the now. Maybe, when considered in this light, we atop the food chain have something to learn our brethren below…

The Winter Of Our Discontent

This is my fifth winter in Calgary. For whatever reason, it has been, by far, the longest and coldest. And I don't need statistics from Environment Canada to back me up on this. If you're a Cowtown resident, I'm sure you'll agree. This winter has sucked more than most in recent memory.

Now let me put this in context a bit. I'm not a winter whiner by nature. I actually like this time of year. It's not like I could've survived twenty winters in Alaska if I were thin-skinned between the autumnal and vernal equinoxes. But for some reason, I find myself craving spring far more than usual this time around the calendar.

And although I may be projecting a bit, I seem to notice other people I encounter harbouring a similar grudge against Old Man Winter this year. The stooped shoulders and mummy-like wrappings of scarves and toques displayed by my fellow downtown pedestrians as a brace against the weight of the frigid sky are a tangible sign of our shared loathing of this continued assault on the senses.

I do take heart at the longer days, though. As I plodded home recently I noticed it wasn't dark as I rounded the last corner on the street where I live. I also heard the other day some lively chickadees chirping in a hedge, which gave me pause to consider warmer, sunnier days ahead. I'm not so arrogant an optimist to think we'll all be sipping cocktails on the patio anytime soon, but maybe, just maybe, the worst is behind us.

So if you're struggling a bit with the winter that seemingly won't end, take heart in the fact that March begins in a few days. And the beginning of spring (technically, at least) is only a few short weeks off. And while I don't recommend a trip to the corner store in Bermuda shorts and flip-flops just yet, go ahead and shake your fist at a snowbank or leafless deciduous, as if to say "I've got your number winter - and it's almost up!"

Take care and keep the faith. Spring is indeed not far off...

Thoughts on the Holidays

Christmas is nearly here and, once again, I'm amazed at how quickly the year has moved by me. It's a time filled with memories and reflection. From childhood through to adulthood, this time of year has always been very special in my life. In the spirit of the season, I thought I'd offer a few thoughts that have come to mind of late.

Last year was our first without Priscilla with us. Even though as a parent you know these days are coming, it's never easy when they inevitably arrive. Now that she's back home with us this year, we're all making every effort to insure this Christmas is a memorable one. Because as we learned last year, these times are indeed very special. It seems you never know when an opportunity for memory-making might pass by forever.

So we've decorated the tree and the ladies have been making festive around the place. Collectively, I think we've already been to more holiday parties than probably ever in any previous season. Work is starting to wind down as folks at the office drift away for their own breaks, and the ones who've yet to pack up for a break are feeling more festive and relaxed, creating an atmosphere of calm which is quite welcome after the hectic pace of the past few months.

Plans for our annual Christmas Eve buffet and holiday cheer extravaganza are well in hand. The buffet, filled with its tasty treats and immense variety, is an artifact of my childhood that we all look forward to with special anticipation. In many ways, I think it embodies the sharing and fellowship that so appropriately epitomizes Christmastime. And, of course, a mound of gifts has already begun to appear under the tree in preparation for Christmas morning.

And this year, we'll be doing something extra special as Priscilla and I take to the airwaves of CJSW to spin an entire show filled with our favourite holiday tunes. Not only will the show itself be a great time together, but the recording will, I'm sure, become the soundtrack for many Christmas Eves to come. We also have plans to head out to BC for a short road trip between Christmas and New Year's, which should be a wonderful time together for us all.

I know we will all look back on this year with particular fondness. For it will be, in effect, the product of all our previous Christmases together and a hopeful vision of things to come, not only for the New Year but for a brighter future overall. It's that link from past, through present and into the future that, for me anyway, really makes this the most wonderful time of year.

So it is my sincere hope that all your holidays are filled with reflection and wonder. Peace and joy, today and always.  -Mark

The Journey Continues

Things are beginning to come together, now that fall is beginning to feel a bit more like winter. Yes, I said it. You can officially blame the first snowfall on me now.

By "together" I mean some of the little pieces of the life I think I want to have are starting to form themselves into something tangible, something real. I'll try and explain this. I've been back to work for a couple months now and I'm starting to feel like the routine I've reestablished is feeling more and more sustainable.

During my time off, I really wanted to regain some balance in my life. Some ideal combination of satisfaction with my work, things that I enjoy and get energy from and of course my personal relationships. So far, things are feeling pretty good.

I'm starting my new job Monday and I'm really excited about the opportunity I think it will bring. I get to lead a group of six young and talented people and truly build the kind of culture and team environment I myself crave at work. To be sure, there's a huge learning curve ahead of me - no way around that. But I'm 100% committed to putting my shoulder to the wheel and working as hard as needed to become proficient in the technical aspects of the work. I'm confident that my ability to work with people on issues of importance to them will be a huge help getting me started. And I know I have lots of colleagues who'll support my transition and be true friends, and that means absolutely everything.

I'm having a great time with my two passions away from work: radio and hockey. The show is an absolute blast, and although I'm still struggling a bit with my sleep at times, the enjoyment and anticipation of each weekly episode keeps me jazzed up like nothing else. Hockey remains something that I also look forward to and get lots of juice from. Our team has struggled at times to keep a full roster on the ice, but I love the guys on the team and we all pull together and have fun regardless of the score. And since I don't see a lot of guys my age still tending goal, I'm movitivated to enjoy this ride as long as I can.

The last but most important part of my life feels like it's in a good place too. Priscilla is back with us and we're a family all over again. It is so wonderful to go out together and just talk and laugh and enjoy each others' company. I know we all look forward to connecting at the end of the day and sharing stories or adventures on the weekends. Tonya seems to have found her stride at work too, and although each day brings new challenges, I think she's happy to be back in the action when all's said and done. We're thinking of a special trip out west during Christmastime, and that would be something memorable.

So, for now, life is pretty damned satisfying. And for as long as I can say that, I'll celebrate each and every day like it's my last. I truly hope I feel this way until my days are done.

The Good, The Bad and The Patently Unexpected

This is been a weekend to remember, for a number of reasons. As I was thinking about the proper way to chronicle all this cornucopia of experiences, I heard the refrain of an Enrico Morricone movie theme. It's truly been good, bad and holy crap.

Things started out well enough on Friday. Tonya and I left work a bit early and headed out of town to Montana, in order to "land" and complete our immigration process. The drive was not bad, a little longer than normal due to traffic and road construction, but not overly so. And we were able to arrive in Kalispell in time for a late dinner at our favourite BBQ joint Famous Dave's. 

After a good night's sleep, we did a bit of shopping (as you do when in Montana) and headed to the border with a carload of clothing, groceries and Alaskan beer. So far, so good. We were the only car at the crossing when we arrived and, dutifully declaring our intention to land to the agent, were ushered inside. The agent was a bit surly, grousing about "this is supposed to be done from Monday to Friday during business hours" - yeah, right - but undeterred we smiled and, after a few minutes, our patience was rewarded. We were officially Landed Immigrants in Canada. (Sidebar: The "helpful" agent indicated our ID cards would arrive in the mail SIX WEEKS OR LATER, which means we can't travel by air during that time. But as I'm still in the Good section, I'll save that for another rant). Cue O Canada and pass the poutine please. At this point, ALL GOOD.

Back on the road on the north side of the 49th parallel, we stopped in Fernie, BC for a great cup of organic, hippy-fuelled espresso and pointed the car toward Calgary. It was getting dark but a nearly-full moon poked its face over the Foothills and we expected smooth sailing. Cue the BAD music.

We strayed from our usual route, and chose Highway 22 just for variety's sake. Hey, they don't call it the Cowboy Trail for nothing, right? A few KMs after the turnoff, we saw several deer beside the road. (Did I mention it was dark by now?) Just as our collective sphincters were relaxing, we saw the unmistakeable hind quarters of a MOOSE off the roadway, just visible in my headlights, which I should note were now on HIGH BEAM. Whew! Two near misses, no harm done. We were just settling into normal road trip banter (e.g. "Geez, that douche-bag with the BC plates sure didn't have to tailgate me for so long before deciding to pass across the solid line!") when it happened. 

Out of nowhere, a (stunning) 8 or maybe 10-point (male, obviously) deer ran, no SPRINTED, into view from our right. His intention, apparently, was to cross the road. Let me just say this for the record - HE DID NOT MAKE IT. Thanks to my goalie-honed, raptor-like reflexes I was able to simultaneously veer left and brake hard. But alas, there was an horrific (for the deer) collision. Thankfully the d-b behind me at that point (probably from BC also) was far enough back to miss plowing into the rear of the Jeep. Apparently s/he was in a hurry to get to Longview before the jerky store closed, whizzing past me on the left and never looking back.

Tonya and I verified that our respective undies were unsoiled (each checking his/her own, for the nasty-minded out there) and we exited the vehicle for a peek. (It was stopped by now, duh.) After removing the dangling front fender moulding and rear bumper trim from the passenger side, I returned to the scene of the impact to survey the damage. The first thing we noticed was one half of Mr. Deer's heretofore lovely rack of antlers was in the roadway. Flinging it out of traffic and into the darkness, I noticed the second fender moulding nearby and placed it into the cargo area, with its two companions. The deer, I noticed after some distressed searching, was probably 40 feet off the roadway in the right hand ditch, from whence he came. I thanked all that is holy he was not moving, having nothing in the car with which to humanely dispatch him save a key ring and a couple of goalie sticks. Eww. We made it home without further incident, save yours truly wondering what this little bit of deerscaping will run me at the body shop. Chalk this episode up as definitely BAD.

This morning, I awoke early to play a bit of pick-up hockey with some guys I'd not met before. A fellow at work had posted a "goalie wanted" ad on our Outlook bulletin board. I made it down to the Olympic Oval at the U of C not really expected much other than a good skate. The guys were pretty skilled and I was on the receiving end of a snowman (that's an 8 in the goals against column) heading into the 3rd period. Fortunately, my luck was about to change. I hunkered down (and charged forward, not unlike a certain deer I had recently met) and bagelled (put up a 0) the opposition in the third, as my lads stormed back with 4 unanswered goals for the tie, the last scored in the final minute with me on the bench for an extra attacker. Boo-yah! But then things turned PATENTLY UNEXPECTED, for as we were coming off the ice and heading for the dressing room, little did I know that my professional hockey career was about to begin.

That's right, my friends. At the tender age of 43, I am now part of the fraternity of those who play not only for love of the game, but also for a payday. You see, some other guys were waiting as I came off the ice and begged me to play for them. It seems their goalie was a no-show and they waved FIFTY BUCKS in my face if I'd stay and play another game. Are you kidding me? (I thought quietly to myself - no way was I passing up a pro contract!) Long story short, I stayed, played and sashayed (nice rhyme eh?) my way to a cool 7-1 win and some cold, hard cash. Heading home, I grabbed a quick shower and parlayed (still on the -ay suffixed rhyme, sorry about that) my $50 into a couple Cokes, bucket of corn and a big screen showing of Casablanca down at Chinook Cineplex. Final assessment: UNBELIEVABLE!

It just goes to show, you never know how a weekend will turn out. I may never live to see its equal again, but through the magic of blogging, I at least get to share it with the world. Peace out, and heads up for those deer eh!

Taking Stock

As much as I am loathe to say the words, it's pretty clear summer has given way to fall here in the foothills of southern Alberta. And just like those hardy pioneer forebears who settled here and put aside the bounty of the harvest for the upcoming winter, so I find myself preparing for leaner times ahead.

Well, maybe that's a bit of an overstretch. It's not like I have to fear death by freezing or starvation or the lonely, cold prairie nights spent alone with nothing but cold stars for company. But it is far more than a mere metaphor to think of winter as a time to brace for the inevitable transitions to come.

After the relative bounty of the summer, a time when cares and concerns of the bitter season were far from thought, I find it appropriate to make some small accounting of my time away from work and from the rigours and routines of daily life. Really, what have I learned? What have I accomplished?

I think the single most significant realization I take from the summer is that I rediscovered things I truly enjoy doing. Going back to radio has been a life-changing experience, in so many ways. Regardless of who might be listening in the ungodly hours of the morning, I love being able to produce and deliver a show I am truly proud of. I look forward all week long to those few short hours in the broadcast booth, where I alone am responsible for connecting, sharing on a most personal level. I gain unfathomed energy from the anticipation of and the reflection on my creation of something truly unique and personal.

I've also rekindled my love for reading. I savoured some truly classic novels over the summer and look forward to carving time out of my evenings for some ongoing literary reflection.  There will also be time for films and concerts this fall and winter too. And maybe after our young resident art history expert arrives and sets up shop, some gallery visits too!

All this is to say that I'm really glad for the time away. Work is work; it will always be there and will always be important in its own right. But life, I remember now, is so much more. I look forward to friends and friendships revisited in the weeks and months ahead. And life too, shared and cherished in new and soul-satisfying ways.

Back Home and Back To Work!

After 5500 kilometers and temps as high as 40c we are back home in Calgary, and none the worse for wear. The legend of the Jeep Cherokee continues to grow; this time as a mighty puller of heavy U-Haul trailers and one who chuckles at stiff headwinds. As for me, I've had just about enough of these cross-continent labours of love.

Don't get me wrong. I love a good road trip, the operative word being good. Like, for instance, going somewhere fun. With nice scenery, perhaps. Or even pleasant weather. And definitely NOT involving excessive manual labour. Score on this trip: ZERO!

OK, there is maybe an element of satisfaction to factor into the equation. A job well done and all that. Turning a page, finishing a chapter, closing a book. (I think that's the requisite number of literary metaphors for this entry.) Maybe I need to see the bigger picture and look at what's beginning, in the afterglow (and the searing heat) of what's ending.

Tomorrow we will submit our passports to the Canadian government for their issuance of our Landed Immigrant status. All three of us will then be free to work and do most anything here in this great country, save voting or serving in the Canadian Forces. Those privileges are reserved for citizens, and we have a couple years to wait yet. Having Priscilla with us again is a big plus, too. I know we will enjoy having her close by again.

Oh, and one other small detail: I'm going back to work tomorrow. Yes, the nice folks down at Suncor Energy Centre have seen fit to let me resume my previous employment. Fancy that. It will be odd getting up and actually dressing for work again. I'm sure the routine will return quickly, but in some respects I feel like a kid on the first day of school. Hope my new Keds and Toughskin jeans wow the ladies as much as they did back in the day.

So I end today as I started nearly six months ago - embarking on a journey. At present, colour me both contented and determined to face whatever comes next with vigour and a none-too-small dollop of reality. Work is work; important, certainly but not everything. I've picked up a few loose bits of my life that I'd dropped somewhere along the way, and I have no intention of letting them slip away again...