San Francisco - In a bold move President Obama signed an executive order lifting the ban on stem research instituted back in 2001 by the Bush Administration. The order signed on March 9th is being hailed as 'exciting news' throughout the scientific community as it re-opens the path for possible cures for a myriad of diseases and disorders which affect millions of people, such as Parkinson's, diabetes and cardiac malfunctions, just to name a few. Needless to say this is bound to ignite some fury in partisan groups who see this move as not only a declaration of being in touch with the 21st century but a middle finger to all that is moral in Christian values, like the Crusades.

'We could not be happier," said Cardial John Matthew, 'this is a sign of the times which Christians everywhere should rejoice. We are moving one step closer to Jesus and the Holy Father,' and Cardinal Matthew is not alone, back in the US shouts of exilihartion are being heard in religious quarters most evil, Godless soul-dead non-believers would not expect to hear. 'Obama has really proven to be Satan's lapdog and a harbinger, we could not be happier! It's fabulous! It is obvious the Rapture is a coming soon. From now on he can do anything he might was well he pleases, I am just going to sit on a lawnchair and crack open a Bud. I am going ot heaven, he is not!' added Pastor Ned Haggard, 'By the way, it's with an "N" not a "T."

 A spokeperson for The End Is Now, a Christian interest group in San Francisco whose main mandate is to inform people of the upcoming Doom's Day has hailed the move as imperative to the end of times. 'Steve, one of our members, who was watching the signing on the news swore he heard hoofs of four horses coming from the TV, I am sure he was joking but we were sooo high that afternoon... Who knows? Either way, I will step on the side of caution and believe him. Hey, you aren't going to write the thing about being high on your article, right?'

On the West coast, MSNBC reports 'Supporters of Change' a Pro-Choice group are very optimistic while hailing the unsung heroes, mostly actors and politicians --no one would have cared if a dentist becomes a quadupligic after a horsing accident-- who would had quietly aided the pro-movement on Stem Research had they not gotten sick and paraded stem research to whomever listened. 'They are real heroes, we are just having a party in their behalf on April 1st at Hooter's private party room. If you are coming, we have made arrangements at 7:00pm, remember it's BYOB. It may take a while, but chances are it will saves lives. We are with the Religious right on this one, what does a stem cell look like anyways?'

So Last Friday came. I was out running one of my events at the Raq N' Waq on Queen Street near Bathurst. Everything was going well, the weather was warm and cooperating, people were friendly, conversing and the drinks had flowing freely. I had even managed to get a few free from our nice brunette waitress for our group. Still don't know why though. Then at 11:45pm, my friend Kristina text messages me "Hi. Don't know if you know, the TTC is going on strike at midnight. You may want to let your members know." Damn.

I passed on the bad news. As fate would have it almost everyone lived downtown. Phew. Well except for two of us. A member, Reggie lived in Scarborough, I lived near High Park. Both quite far for walking, specially after midnight. As such Reggie paid and made a quick dash, in the hopes of catching a lingering street car or a snaring a cab before the frenzy home began. As the organizer, I am always one of the last ones to leave any event so I stayed until everyone was ready, that was at around 1:15am.

Once outside, most managed to squeeze into taxis. I unfortunately was heading the other way. Thought of catching a taxi --each one I saw however was bursting with passengers-- so much of that idea. So I decide to walk... at least part of the way. "It would be good for me," I sold the idea to myself, ignoring the fact I could just as easily get mugged too.

After deciding on a safe route, backtracking Queen towards Bathurst, then north until Bloor and then west until Dundas West seemed like the better way. As you can imagine, Bathurst was surprisingly busy with cars and people cursing the TTC as they did the same thing I was doing: Getting home. Needless to say, the animosity was quite palatable. It tasted like burnt BBQ chicken.

You will be surprised what comes into your mind when you are walking by yourself for a few hours. Recently I have started looking for a job. 'Did I say everything I could in those last three cover letters? Was I straight forward enough? When will they call?' Then once that fades, you start thinking about more meaningful things. 'Is that where I want my career to go? I don't want to end up like those people who work for a company for eighteen years, look like zombies and are only going through the motions until quittin' time!' By the time a got to Bloor St. existential questions started creeping up and questioning a lot of life decisions. 'Why am I not married yet? Are you sure?'


Existential questions after only two drinks? Impossible. I thought it silly. It wasn't the alcohol, that's for sure.

Then again, it could just be that I had the time and place to think. After all, It was beautiful night. Serene.

As I begun rushing west, I began feeling quite lonely as most people stayed near the beehive that's the Annex in order to catch speeding cabs. I called another friend, Matty who was surprising awake and gave me much needed company for almost forty five minutes before succumbing to her illness: She had the flu and she just went off to bed. Nothing serious! She told me about her week, her trials and tribulations. I was very lucky to have her to chat. When the streets are almost deserted, having someone speaking to you through a phone gives the feeling of walking through an ocean with one long line tethered to the outside world. Funny. Whenever you feel alone is great to just listen to someone who really wants to share her mind with you. In the end, it felt like I had walked for only thirty five minutes. In reality it was almost an hour and half.

Made it home at about 3:00am. My feet hurt, badly, my heels in particular. Kids, don't ever walk with dress shoes for two hours straight. Is that how women feel after a night with high heels? I felt sorry for female social standards and the obliged footwear. The silly things that come into your mind when you walk for a few hours. I made some choices regarding the jobs I would apply to in the future. I also had a quick reminder of just who my real friends are. The ones who will text message in the middle of the night, warning you about something just because they know out and about. Or who will keep you company at 2:00m, even though they are sick just because they do not want you to walk all alone. Including some realizations of the direction I want my life to go and the fact that I decided to kill myself a little by buying some McDonald's near my place at that unholy hour.

But you know that, hurting feet aside, I think we should all do these more often. Take the long way. You never know the things you might think of when you make the time.
I am sure I will be one of the few to say this, but thanks TTC for your last minute strike.
Just don't do it too often.

In our western society, few are the times for greater reflection than on, and around New Year's. A time to look back at a set of time and space and ponder on the deeds and non-deeds that have carried us to this point in our lives. A time only followed by one's birthday and the death of a loved one in the totem pole order of reflectiveness. Surely many secular-types would like to add Lent, Christmas and Ramadan to name a few, but from an general perspective, New Year's still has a certain Je ne sais quoi, which can inspire or still be abhorred by all people equally. As I have always said, 'people do not take enough time to know themselves.' It is most unfortunate as this is one of the most important lessons a human being can learn. Alas, this is generally not the case. In fact, people will pay others to half-ass do it for them. Hence the number of inspirational Jesters out there who, for a fee, will surgar coat wonderful promises of 'how you too, can be happy with money/love/sex/or all three!' ...It is quite the multi-million dollar industry. While omitting the fact they themselves would be as poor as dirt had you not paid them to tell you how you too, can be like them. Which ironically, it would have to be by you charging other people and tell them how they too, can be happy with money/love/sex/or all three. Creating some evil infinite loop where someone just has to be miserable for the whole industry to exist. So I sit here, babysitting the flu and wondering about my last year on earth. Nothing better than spending it alone and sick as an old chapter approaches to a close. As you can imagine, it had both its highs and lows. Ultimately --for us who do it-- that is, put your life on a proverbial balance from time to time, the hope is for said balance to lean over onto the highs rather than he lows. But this year, sadly, it has been a little too even. Losing a very loved one, changing jobs, faced some life-long illnesses. Well, I could just take it in for what it is and call it George, right? But I can't do that! For it has been a year of some really good accomplishments. As they say, 'the longer the fall, the more alive you will feel looking back down at the abyss when you climb out.' And although I am not totally out... no point in lying, right? I can see the top closer than ever before. Teasing me to move forth. It will be sad to let go of a few things --someone in particular-- but that's how life is. The view is going to be breathtaking. So, I sit here, waiting for the flu to get the hell out of my body and for my immune system to really get cracking. I mean, what else do I pay it for? I hope all of you are in good health and have some interesting plans for the weekend; And subsequently, take the time to find out where and who you are. Only then you will know where you are going! Cheers.

The City of Toronto and the Toronto Transit Commission jointly released an ad campaign on Nov 9th throughout TTC stations reminding commuters to use their freshly washed garments as stopgaps for bacteria which literally already live in every cubic meter of air we breath. Including inside subway cars, by the way.


You see, for the longest time I have been telling people that common sense is paradoxically not that common. People aught not be reminded about something that in this day and age should be considered common -- and sure I dare say it?-- basic sense. Sure the road to hell is not paved with posters of a woman coughing into her sleeve but I do see it as a misappropriation of limited funds. Practicing common and basic hygiene: Like washing your hands or making sure you do not sneeze into other people's nostrils is not TTC's responsibility.

How ironic would it be for a commuter to be thankfully reminded of using his sleeve as a rogue cough conspired to sneak past him only to be rundown by a flying back-wheel from a faulty and aging bus only minutes later as he waited for his usual rush hour trip. Yes, highly unlikely but it would hurt a lot more than a rendezvous with the flu.

Which leads me to my main point: In this era of budget cutting, where city services need to constantly prove their funds are achieving a set of concrete goals or fear having them cut off their next fiscal year. Then why, oh why is a Megacity's transit system spending from already lean coffers on anything then transportation improvements? Cardboard ads do not make my trip faster, comfortable and bring a rainbow to my day.

I cannot not recall NYC Metro ever reporting pandemics running rampant on their subway system. And trust me, if there was ever a system which would definitely benefit from being entirely douched in hundreds of gallons of Mr. Clean, they are it.

Add to it the recent revelation that the TTC will be running on a $1 billion deficit over the next five years! [Toronto Sun reports: here]

On a more insightful --or market motivated note -- if you are going to tell people to seed their own garments with viruses why not go the extra mile and get models using designer handkerchiefs?

Designers: Be the first to inundate the Holiday season with eye catching and colourful handkerchiefs with extra absorbent and out-of-this-world germ genocidal properties! Be the first to stop germs in style. True mavericks would soon create left and right sleeve sneeze patches. Better yet: Introduce the first ever Le Homme and Femme Manchons Collection! Have a model sneeze on a high tread-count fashionista statements and just kickback and wait for the money to start coughing in! The Quebecois nation would love them!

Just Picture the panache revolution this is bound to turn into! Imagine the innovation and statements it would create! I can already imagine the tag line: "Maybe Sick, Yet Always Chic."[*]

Alas, the TTC lacks such foresight, and why? Because they aught to be using their limited funds to improve their infrastructure first, not half cooked attempts at educating people basic hygiene.

Look at the Montreal Metro for example: Realizing people do not want to just travel to and fro. They built a streamlined system with a high reverence for design and art. In fact, some stations are considered tourist attractions all by themselves. So now tourist actually pay a fare to see architecture that had to be there in the first place. Now, how modern and avant garde is that? It surely beats our Stalin-era inspired subway stations. Want to see what we are missing? Click here and scroll down the pictures on the left hand side for a taste.

In my humble opinion, they aught to focus on the positive aspects of their service and innovate rather than to remind --and some would say: scare-- an already declining ridership of the rare possibility of catching the same virus I could as easily get while shopping at Holt Renfrew.

Even if the ads border on public warnings, the gains on such enterprise are minimal at best. As the question that ultimately gets begged is: 'Why even try?' Leave the educating of health issues and practices to the Ministry of Health. I pay my taxes TTC, now let them do their job!
It is bad news for consumers when the commission tries to expand too far from their core business and into more trivial --yes, you heard me-- trivial exercises. Since the most expected side effect of this is the degradation of its core services.

Ultimately, does the TTC brass really think day-to-day passengers are unable to remind fellow travelers to be more health conscious? Sure we Canadians, we are re-known for our polite nature but no one ever said we are like meek sheep to the slaughter or that we lack a good chunk of spine. We are not pushovers. Come one TTC, gives us your clients some credit, we'll tell that pig to cover his mouth and save you some ad money while we are at it.



[*] -- My 'slogan,' if you would like to use it, remember to send me royalties.

That is what I have been hearing from most friends as of late. Since it seems --and righthly so-- that I pulled a dissapearing act. Yes, *poof* just like that. I wish I could say that I have been travelling or exploring the inner trenches of our city. Better yet, left all my belongings and joined a Buddhist monastery on a sabbatical of fancy to meditate on my many, many --well, perhaps not that many-- sins. Alas that is not the case. In fact, quite the opposite. I have stayed at home watching unhealthy amounts of the History and Discovery channels --not necessarily by choice-- and writing away my sorrows. I swear that if a gream Canadian novel does not come out of this I heads are going to roll! But basically just taking it easy and recuperating. Yes, you read right: recuperating. It is sad to say but I have been diagnosed with a condition that although not life threating --well, there is always a chance of that, but then again there is always a chance of being hit by a bus everytime you walk out the door-- has taken a good chunk of my time, patience and general happy disposition. However, it does not really affect my mind, so technically you will be seeing more of my adventures and mis-adventures in the weeks to come. So for those who kept on asking -- I am alive, and I am back.