I didn't stop chasing my dream... I just let it get a headstart...

I didn't always want to be an oilfield consultant, hell I didn't even picture myself in the oilfield till it happened. I was always going to be famous sports writer, I loved sports and I loved to write it just made sense to me. I was sports editor of the college paper, I was building a portfolio, and by my own admission, my marks could have been higher but I had everything else going for me to apply for journalism school. Just to cover my bases I went to a school councillor to gauge my chances before I sent in my application and that's when it began to unravel.

The councillor I saw that day basically told me to not apply because of my marks, recommended that I get a general arts degree, then apply after that because they held spots for people with degrees already. I wouldn't say I was devastated, but I definitely felt like I took a shot to the jaw. In my mind I knew I had what it took, but I also had doubts and she stoked those flames. I ended up not apply deciding to scale back my class load while I tried to figure out what I wanted to do as a general arts degree just to have a degree wasn't a good idea to me. I later decided that I was going to change departments, try to get into some sports marketing or administration programs. Once again had to see a councillor, explained what I wanted to do, why I started in arts and why I want to switch to the newly rebranded Kinesiology. This councillor looked at my marks, and asked my why I didn't apply to the Journalism school, I explained what I was told, and she said they weren't the worst marks she's seen and I probably would have had a shot if I applied. I left the office angry, I made the decision to change course from the last meeting. I could have applied the following semester but decided that I needed to take sometime away from school.

I did some minor jobs in the city to pay the bills and then by happenstance, got a call to try pipelining and from there the rest is history. However, my love for talking sports never went away. If anyone wanted to talk sports on site they would find me because I always had an opinion and I wasn't scared to give it. I would post snippets on facebook and twitter, as social media grew. I thought about starting a sports blog, but decided that I didn't have the following or a big enough hook to get an audience. Plus I didn't have the time to dedicate to it if I wanted to get it off the ground like I wanted to. If you haven't noticed this blog also takes a backseat to other things in my life, sorry.

I am happy to announce I will be joining a known sports blog soon. I am starting with their CFL coverage and I am hoping that it allows me to branch elsewhere in their other sports coverage. It's a small step and it is essentially free labour right now, but it is something that I can't wait to try.

I just hope this shows my kids that they never have to give up on their dreams, although E wants to be a princess right now so that might be an issue.  My family has always supported everything I have done, and I hope my kids realize that I will always have their backs...even if they want to be a princess or batman.

Giveth and Taketh...

First I feel like I need to apologize for this post for a few reasons... 1) Its nearly 2 am in the morning and I cannot sleep... 2) I have had 2 pints of Cherry Mead from a local tap house (it's delicious) and 3) I am writing this as a constant stream of thought. No editing, no re-write, no censorship. My head can be a strange place but here we are. I have done this before, and it honestly got me published nationally before, Canada yes, but nationally none the less...

June 14 at 8:19pm I welcomed my son into the world. I wept which should be no surprise as I lost $20 to my wife for crying during our vows. My immediate family expected me to cry, my inlaws expected me to cry, hell my brother's wife's family expected me to cry.  I apparently have become the token crier of the family, which is "great" for my self esteem but I deal with it. 

I have waxed poetic about how it was love at first site for my daughter was like getting hit by a bus, actually being there for his birth was like getting hit by a freight train, I was beside myself. And if you look at my baby pictures it was apropos as he looks like my clone. We had to spend a few days in  the Mother Baby Unit as his levels were a tad off and they wanted to make sure everything was on the up and up before they released us. 

Finally get C home, excited to show him the nursery. I understand that he is barely seeing shapes at this moment in time but I put work into that superhero room dammit. That night I leave my phone in the bedroom to charge as I am relaxing on the couch with C. My wife is in the tub, for some reason she left her phone on the couch beside me. It begins to ring and its my dad so I answer her phone, he is wondering why I haven't answered my phone. My grandmother got rushed to the hospital that night and he was trying to get a hold of me. I tell him to keep me in the loop not trying to panic as the past few years my grandmother has been in and out of the hospital but recently she was diagnosed with lung cancer and we were told it was just a matter of time. 

Don't get me wrong she lived a full life, either 90 or 91 years if you want to believe her (90) or her birth certificate (91). Somehow it was jarring to be holding my son who was mere days old to find out my grandmother a decade (or if you believe the Canadian government, 9 years) shy of a century was in hard times. The next day, my dad called again and told me I better get my ass to the hospital and pay my respects because the doctors didn't think she would wake up and might not be breathing in a few hours. 

I drive 2 hours to the hospital alone, as the daughter is camping with the inlaws and mother and baby have appointments since being discharged. I could have waited for my wife and C but wanted to get there before i couldn't say my final goodbyes. I take some pictures of C on my Ipad so she could see him better, then I make the longest 2 hour drive of my life. Somehow she ends up waking up, I end up showing her the pictures of C and tell her that I love her. I make the trip home.

 I'm the first to admit I was never the favorite grandchild, that was my brother and if my cousins want to disagree I will gladly let them be wrong but she loved us all. However, when everyone moved out of our home town I always made sure to stop by as much as I could to check in on her, sometimes to make sure she didn't burn the house down but other times to legitimately visit with my grandmother anyone who knew her knew she was always up for coffee and a visit.  

She was headstrong stubborn, and pretty easy to get fired up. When I bought my first house, I only had a bed, 2 chairs, TV stand, big screen TV, and some miscellaneous used odds and ends for furniture. She wanted to help me out and offered me money to get new furniture. Having a well paying job, and getting a bit of a stubborn/proud streak from her I told her and this is an exact quote... "If you give me any money I am going to spend it on hookers and blow." My dad's "lady friend" was there at the time to witness this family tete et tete and honestly was my escape plan, she was losing her mind laughing in the next room. But I can honestly admit it was one of the few times I made her at a loss for words. 

If you can't tell I lost my grandmother on June 19, almost 5 days  and 20 minutes when C was born. I was at a preseason CFL football game with my daughter when it happened, because I promised her a daddy daughter football date. I knew what happened before I was actually told it, because I texted my dad leaving the game at half time asking how she was. Instead of an update it was a question asking if I was still at the game, the family was trying not to ruin my time with E but I knew what was coming next. It has taken me a few days to realize how much that can mess up a system not the way I found out but the just the roller coaster. My wife has pointed out that I felt too guilty to celebrate and too happy to properly mourn, I am/was in a weird emotional purgatory

The cliche goes "The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh", well this week has proven that. All I can do is raise my children the way she would want me too, so basically a stubborn streak a mile wide and a blinding loyalty to family no matter what. 

Love and miss you Dorothy. 

How I met your mother... aka the story how I finally married my best friend

Now that would be a great premise for a TV show... Just type it into google to see if it has been done before... Seriously this will make millions... must be a slow Internet day... DAMMIT... anyway...here's hoping this doesn't last 9 seasons with a poor finish...

May 17, 2015 ...Today, marks the one year anniversary of the day I married my best friend. It was a long time coming, and depending on who you ask, mainly not me or my wife, it should have happened a lot sooner than it did.

Follow me on this little journey through time as I explain how we got here. Picture it, I was in my second year of university, young, full head of hair (sigh), had the world by the short and curlies, and I was sports editor of the school paper.

Walking between classes I see this bright yellow flier on a bulletin board in a stairwell with big letters that say "Cheerleading". Now I am intrigued, so I take a closer inspection and see that there is a group trying to get people organized for the first cheerleading team ever at the university. I quickly jot down all the information I need for the first meeting and move on my way before people start staring at the guy talking to himself about cheerleading.

I tried pitching the story to my writers about the meeting and I also had an idea to get one of the girls that wrote for me to try out for the team and do a feature piece. I even tried to sweeten the pot by getting permission to run it as the main feature, which meant full color spread and centerfold, prime real estate for any journalism student looking to fill a portfolio.

No takers, not a single one, in fact as I am practically begging in front of the entire staff someone pipes up "Why don't you do it?" This wouldn't be the first nor last time my ego would get me into situations I am not 100% prepared for, but on the positive side, I usually get a great story at the end.

So the day of the meeting arrives, I am the only guy, of course I am the only guy. I talk to the girls who were running the show, explain that I was with the school paper and pitch my feature idea. Explain that I played multiple sports, thought it would be interesting to have an outsiders view of what they do and get them some publicity in the mean time. In the back of my head I am praying they say no as I know I am about to embarrass myself on a grand scale.

One girl looks at me, "Can you lift things?" "yes" "Can you count?" "yes" "Can you jump?" "yes" "See you on Tuesday!"... Dammit...

So lets fast forward a bit, I go through the try out process not thinking I was ever going to make it, I was the only guy, it made no sense. Get to the final cuts, I read over the posting to see who made the team and who didn't. I got to know some of the girls and they were nice to me despite my lack of everything. It wasn't till the second scan did I realize I made the team, then full on panic mode set in, what the hell was I going to do.

I found out later, it had nothing to do with my skills it was more a case they were really worried I was going to trash them in the paper if they cut me. Little did they realize I had already had the article prewritten with the slant that cheerleading was so hard even I couldn't make the team. So I had to scrap it and rewrite it, I really hate doing things twice.

Then after the shock wore off a bunch of people I worked with, and some buddies of mine starting making bets of how long it would take me to quit. Well not one to be seen as a quitter I decided to show everyone and last at least the year. To start off they partnered me up with my now wife J, and I have mentioned in previous posts she hated me. I am not kidding she hated me with the seven fires of Hades, she thought I was just there to pick up girls. I would like to say while that was not my initial intention, it worked in the end, always watch out for the long con.

Cheerleading is a lot of strength and timing, I had the strength the timing was initially on vacation. Which when working with a partner is never good, and J let me know several times what she thought of me, and where I should go. Eventually over time her hate turned into loathing, then loathing turned in to disdain, then disdain turned into indifference, then indifference turned into tolerance,... mainly I am saying it was a long road to love.

We became friends, good friends, then best friends. She knew everything about me, and I knew everything about her. But we never really acted on it, though lord knows enough people on the team thought we should. J brought some cookies into practise one night and said her boyfriend made them. One girl took one and said they were really good, and followed it up with I didn't know G could bake. I responded without missing a beat, "I can... but I didn't make those." You could almost hear the gears turning in her head as she was trying to process the information she just got.

We were always there for each other but never dated. I am not saying we never thought about it, but I know on my end I was very concerned about losing my closest and dearest friend if we didn't work. I understand that is a total Rom Com cliche but it was true. We were each other's shoulder to cry on, when something good happened we were usually each others first contact, when we needed someone to talk to we would reach out to each other.

Being that close there were also times where we needed to distance ourselves from each other because at some level it wasn't fair to the people we were dating. I know I had more than one J related fight with more than one girl because they didn't like how close we were. I guess that probably should have clued me in on where I was meant to be sooner. But if anything I am stubborn, and good looking... and smart... and humble... where was I going with this again...

When E's dad walked out I did my friendly duty of being there for J and her.  At the time I wasn't even thinking about us becoming an us, as I mentioned in a previous post I was more concerned about E. As we moved forward, E made us take a look at our relationship seriously, we were no longer kids in university. We were an important piece of each others lives for over a decade, we knew we loved each other but the fear of losing each other was still there. But as I always say when I push my chips in the middle for poker "God hates a coward."

We never had a real start date for officially dating, it just kind of started. As we were going, I realized I didn't want to spend another day of my life without her or E in it. So I popped the question, which was difficult because every way I wanted to do it got squashed for one reason or another. So I decided to do it as we were walking the dog by the lake. The first time I tried to do it the dog decided it was a good place to poop, that really sets the mood. I tried to steer her towards a bridge do it over the water, she didn't want to go that way. I was trying to get a word in and she just kept talking so I slipped the ring into her hand. Apparently she was wondering why I put a quarter in her hand. Obviously it was a tad more than 25 cents, she said yes, and when we got back the first thing I did was tell E was we were going to be a family.

One year ago I married my best friend, my partner, the mother of my daughter and now soon to be son. Mere words cannot express how lucky I think I am every day, and how much she means to me.

Love you more than you'll ever know, J.

Rejection... Sometimes we all just can't get along

Last night when I was on the twitter machine,  I realized that a Canadian sports journalist I follow had been quieter than usual the past week. Meaning he wasn't clogging up my feed every 10 minutes. So I searched him up to see what the story was, and to my surprise I was blocked. I am not one to point fingers and name names here so for now we will call him D. Cox...  No that might be too obvious...  Damien C.... Yes that's much better.

Anyway this "Mr. Clean look-a-like" apparently took exception to me agreeing with him, in an admittedly snarky tone, that the Oilers didn't tank their season like a bunch of other teams did. My point is they were just legitimately horrible so they didn't need to tank. Honestly, I have taken personal shots at him in the past for his inane ramblings, but unless he has a long memory this seems to be a pretty minor thing to block a guy for.

I would like to take this time to point out that blocking someone on twitter is the most pointless thing to do. If I wanted to see what he is tweeting all I need to do is log out and just search twitter, and if I wanted to continue to grind his gears I could start another account which I assume others have done in the past and probably still are doing to him now. Honestly, if he just muted me I wouldn't have been the wiser but alas he feels like he needs to rule his kingdom so be it.

But what does all of this have to do with the scope of this blog you ask? Simple at some level we all want to be loved. He wants to be in an echo chamber where everyone loves what he vomits online, and I wanted to be appreciated for my humor and my wit. Turns out we couldn't come to a mutual agreement on how this relationship was going to play out and he decided to end it, with out even the decency of a phone call. sigh.

I am sure there is a portion of people out there that claim they don't care what other people think, and to a certain extent I am sure that is true. However, as the cliche goes no man is an island... and if they are its probably more like an archipelago surrounded by other islands.

I have said in this blog that my daughter and I have a verbal agreement that she's not dating till she's 30. I know in my heart that isn't going to hold up, but at the same time I know she is going to get hurt at some point and that bothers a part of me. Every parent wants to protect their children but at the same time I hope I can teach her that it's just part of life.

If you truly think about it most of your relationships you have in your life will end. Friendships, work relationships, educational, romantic, etc at some point they all end. Be it just drifting away, moving on, or sometimes the situation isn't right for you or them. But the bottom line is no one enjoys rejection.

I have been both the dumper and the dumpee. Neither side is fun, but sometimes it needs to be done even if both sides cannot see it at the time. Its funny when I was the dumpee I preferred the band aid method, just do it quick I will take my lumps and then I can move on. However, when I was the dumper I tried to do it soft and gently to protect the other person's feelings, which admittedly is probably worse for all involved.

Probably the best way I have discovered to look at the failed relationships in ones past is to think that everyone you meet was meant to be in your life at that moment in time for some reason. Sometimes they stay, sometimes they move on, and sometimes they will return to you. The hard part is realizing rejection is just sudden change, and change while scary is what makes life life.

Love is easy...

One of the first lessons I want to teach my kids is about love. Not dating, or birds and the bees, but love. Besides my daughter and I have a verbal contract that she's not dating till she's 30, I don't care if she was 2 at the time when she agreed. It is a binding verbal agreement and no one can convince me otherwise.

The lesson I want to teach them is that love is easy. That's it, that's all.. Well actually, love is probably the easiest thing in the world, its relationships that are the hard part.

I have already explained how fast I fell in love with my daughter, and that feeling never changed and never will. I knew I loved her from the minute I saw her. I knew I was going to be apart of her life for a very long time and that I would do anything for her. I can assume that feeling is going to be just as overwhelming the day my son is born.

My wife, on the other hand, while not love at first sight I feel the same way about her. Loving her is the easiest thing I do. I wake up and know I love my wife, I go to bed and know I love my wife. There is no one else on this planet that I would want to share my life with. She's been my best friend for 13 years, my wife for almost a year, and for lack of a better term my soul mate.

Communication, sex, trust, money, toilet seat up or down, etc can all affect a relationship for the good and for the bad. It is all about how you deal with the bad and remember the good. However, the human brain isn't really wired that way, the good is easily forgotten while the bad lingers it is why we learn better by failure than success. No wonder why the "Everyone gets a trophy" generation is failing society.

Anyway, back to the topic at hand....

Communication is probably the biggest hurdle in any relationship, it is basically what all the other things stem from, even the toilet seat quandry. A quick amazon search brings up over 10,000 books on communicating in a relationship, a google search brings up even more articles, and who knows maybe the "relationship communication" tag I put on this blog will get me a ton more hits.

There are many ways to communicate, words we use or even simple visual clues.  My wife knows when something is bothering me as well just by the way I look, or more often then not, how quiet I am. It is something I am trying to work on, I tend to over think and focus inward in trying to solve a problem but by then the conversation is usually over and it's never in the man's best interest to start the "debate" again. Though admittedly I forget that sometimes... 

Being on the road as much as I am, I have learned to pick up small clues in the way she texts me.

"Morning my handsome husband" - Great

"Morning my husband" - Good

"Morning" - Uh oh I think I did something wrong

"Asshole" - Yep I did something wrong...  To be fair I haven't actually gotten this one... yet...

At the end of the day, I want my kids to find their true love like I did. I want them to be happy, I want their love to be easy, and I want them to realize that while the rest of it can be hard work its always worth it.

Love at first sight.

I was never one to believe in love at first sight. I thought it was just something that was fantasy, a way to speed up the process in books and movies. The usual boy meets girl, they fall in love, some conflict separates them, they get back together, true love conquers all, and on your way out don't forget to buy the soundtrack featuring the new hit by the Goo Goo Dolls.

Don't get me wrong, I always considered myself somewhat of a romantic at heart, hell I won my high school's poetry contest 3 years in a row (Iambic pentameter for the win bitches!). But I still never believed it was real, that was until I was 30.

I wish I could say it was my wife, but nope she hated me when we first met... true story.  No lie, she HATED me with the fires of hades but obviously my charm and good looks won her over.

I never believed in love at first sight until I met the girl I now call my daughter. I met E, a week after my 30th birthday, when she was days away from being 5 months old. She was sleeping at the time, she looked so peaceful and innocent nearly broke my heart. Correction, it did break my heart because part of me was pretty angry at the guy that liked to call himself her father already walked out on her and J (who is now my wife).

Coles' notes version of me and J up to the point where I met E... Met in university, we became teammates, she hated me, then we got along, became friends, became best friends, and stayed close for over a decade. If you want the unabridged version I am sure that will come in a future post at some point.

Anyway, back to the matter at hand. That little girl made my heart melt, and she was just sleeping. When she was awake, I was putty in her tiny tiny hands and I was OK with that. If you ask my wife not much has changed, as much as I try to be the hard ass she always has daddy's number.

Some of my favourite pictures of her and I when she was little always involve us sleeping, something about when she would just snuggle in to my chest I would be out probably just as fast as she was. If I could have figured a way to bottle that I'd make my first million and I'm sure I could get Ambien off the market.

As much as she floored me when I first met her, I wasn't prepared for her to use the D-word. We hadn't even be teaching her it, we were trying to teach her my name when she was learning to talk. J told me on the phone one time that she was saying my name and E said "Dada". I didn't believe her, I told her it must have been "Gaga" and she was just having trouble with my name. Then the next time I was with them I went to E and said "Say G..." "Dada"... Well of course I took it in stride, and by taking it stride I mean I cried.

That little girl has been one of the best parts of my life the last few years. Words cannot express what she means to me, or how much she breaks my heart when she cries as she tells me she misses me when I am on the road, or how proud I am every time she says matter of factly, "Daddy is Batman, Mommy is Batgirl, and I am Robin.", or how happy I was when the adoption got approved last week. She is my daughter, my world, and my munchkin and nothing is ever going to change that.

Love you E.

I believe they call this the prologue...

I feel like I should start by saying something cliche like "Welcome to my blog" or "Thanks for taking a break from Facebook, Twitter, and Tinder, be sure to swipe right" or "If you are looking for Deadpool Cosplay ideas you are in the wrong place, and really the world doesn't need anymore Deadpool cosplayers."

So anyway... Welcome. 

I must admit the decision to get back into blogging was a tad easier than sitting down and actually writing again but that is "art" for you. That said, I was tossing the idea whether or not to write for a really long time, and I am hoping this blog remedies a few itches I have been meaning to scratch. 

1) I really used to enjoy writing and kind of miss it. When I was younger and had more hair, I was a pre-journalism student in university and (humble brag) sports editor of the school paper for 2 years and in a round about way it was how I met my wife (more on that in a future post). 

2) This is my venting station, it allows me to get all the thoughts that are banging around in my head so I don't go crazy. My mind is a strange and scary place sometimes, usually funny but sometimes I even wonder where the stuff that I spit out comes from. If I got a nickel for everytime I made my wife roll her eyes well lets just say I wouldn't be using a free blog site. 

3) Maybe someday I will be able to fire up this page and show my daughter and soon-to-be-born son how much their daddy loved them when he was on the road for work. When I was single being an oilman was easier, now that I have a family and it's expanding I feel like if I can't be there for daily advice maybe I can share my wisdom and love here. 

Why "Dadpool" you ask? Simple I love comics... and honestly all the other dad pun names were taken... I'm serious I tried everything I could think of... "The Quick and the Dad", "The Good, the Dad, and the Ugly", "The Walking Dad", "Better off Dad", "Breaking Dad", etc...  I am glad Dadpool worked or my next option was "Dad men Don't Wear Plaid". 

So once again thank you for stopping by, hopefully the next one is more engaging and thought provoking... and maybe, just maybe a tad entertaining.