by Matt Herron
The first day of the New Year never feels any different to me than the day after yesterday usually does, except that it comes with a vicious hangover. Sometimes I think we drink on New Year’s Eve so that the next day’s pounding headache will guilt us into keeping the resolutions we drunkenly pronounced at the party the night before.
I’m not being cynical, just realistic. How many promises to yourself have you broken in the past year? I don’t need science or statistics to support this conclusion; I know from experience what it means to break a promise to myself. What makes you think your New Year’s resolution will turn out any different than the promises you failed to keep before?
As far as New Year’s resolutions go, it’s impressive if you make it through the first two weeks. If you’re a gym rat, you know exactly what I mean.
As for me? I don’t make any resolutions. I can’t break a promise I never made to begin with, so I’m in familiar territory. There’s no reason to start the year with a disappointment.
Not that resolutions don’t work, or that no one can affect a change in their life by sheer power of will (possible, but unlikely). I’m simply pointing out that just because it’s the start of a new decade doesn’t mean you’ve got more gumption than you had yesterday, or two weeks ago. Today is still the day after yesterday no matter how proudly you turned the page on your calendar this morning, while holding an icepack to your throbbing head.
If you’re going to make a resolution, don’t do it out of hangover-induced guilt, or because all the cool kids are doing it. I’m all for bettering yourself, but change doesn’t work unless you believe in it too.
by Matt Herron
For those that haven’t been paying attention to the news, Dubai imploded financially and the Dow tanked with it. Ironically enough, those man-made islands can’t keep their economy afloat.
This does not come as a surprise to me. I remember learning about Dubai for the first time in my Concepts of Culture class about a year ago. The article (which I tossed out as soon as the class ended) explained how Dubai was trying to bring all the world’s cultures together in an orgy of luxury and sell it as entertainment at Dubai World.
The world’s cultures are mixing. How good for multiculturalism! In class discussion, this was gravy for Canadians. It justified their cultural ideals. All I could think about was how Dubai World was going to fail as a business.
So, the recent news that the government of Dubai took over Dubai World and that they need to delay payments on $60 Billion in debt came as a relief instead of a surprise. A relief because, while I do not claim expertise in economic or financial matters, logic tells me that an industry relying heavily on tourism and consumer spending to make profit is bound to fail at a time when the world’s economy is stumbling.
But Dubai was a gamble to begin with. As Timothy Middleton points out, emerging markets like Dubai are “just as wild as they have always been.” They have even less of a chance to succeed when they are steeped in extravagance. Signs point to catastrophe when the worlds tallest sky scraper is built by imported wage-slave construction workers.
People may be attracted to extravagance, but the novelty quickly wears off. Any industry that doesn’t have a solid base will eventually sink. And this one was quite literally built on water.
by Matt Herron
I haven’t seen sunlight in a week. This seems to happen every year in Hamilton. In late Autumn the sun takes shelter behind a grey curtain of clouds for days on end. The last leaves fall from the trees and I begrudgingly add extra layers under my jacket to insulate my adventures into the dreariness.
Then, suddenly, the cloud cover will part and the sun will emerge, and although it is irredeemably cold, it is reassuring because the change has run it’s course. The sun is shining again and everything is right in the world.
Sometimes it doesn’t happen until the first snow. Those days are brilliant. Glistening white virgin snow covers the streets and the world looks like it has just been born. Winter, at last.
Not yet, though. Some things just can’t be rushed, and the weather is one of them. The sun is still hiding, the temperature is still dropping, the snow has not fallen. Winter is later than usual this year. In the meantime, we are stuck in the fog of limbo.
Your body can be read like the weather if you know what signs to look for. Unlike the seasons, though, the cycle is not predetermined. Some people get stuck in limbo for years at a time before their sun returns. Others, tragically, never do.
It has taken me a long time to learn to read the weather signs of my body. Multiple sports-related injuries has made me more sensitive to nerve pain and muscle soreness. Once I learned how to react (read: exercise), the injured area became an accurate barometer of my health.
The weather may be out of our control, but your health is not. You can learn to read the signs of your body and react accordingly. You may get stuck in the rain a few times before you figure it out, but with a little experimentation you will learn when to bring your umbrella. It’s a learning curve.
Not everyone learns, though. Some people smoke themselves to emphysema. Others eat themselves to obesity. That’s like pissing into the wind.
Once you learn to read the signs, you can work with the weather instead of against it. That piss smell will go away eventually.
Are you stuck in a dreary spell, like the weather here? Perhaps it is best to wait it out. On the other hand, maybe it’s time to rip open the cloud cover and yank the sun back into the sky. It’s up to you.
by Matt Herron
It all starts with the beat of a heart. The entrance corridor pulses red in time. Just like the beginning of a human life.
Body Worlds & The Story of the Heart is located in the Ontario Science Center and features over two hundred specimens. The complex arrangement of the cardiovascular system, especially how the heart connects with other anatomical systems, is revealed with stunning transparency.
Every figure, cross section, and model is poised to give the viewer a three hundred and sixty degree panorama. Sometimes a specific part of the system in question is accented in the display, like the major blood vessels or the nervous system, but the whole body is powered by the beating of the heart.
The full-sized figures are the premier attraction. They are frozen in the poses they are named after. The Ski Jumper is caught mid-jump. The Archer is captured right after she releases her arrow. Each of the dozen figures is arranged differently to show a unique view of the muscles and organs.
Surely, you’re thinking, these people didn’t die that way. No, they donated their bodies to science. Gunther van Hagens came up with a process called Plastination in 1977 as a smarter way to preserve organs for medical study. After much improvement, this method was brought to the public. Now Body Worlds has been seen by the eyes of millions and there are currently six exhibitions running on three continents.
The heart’s role in our life and history is emphasized throughout the exhibit, as is the importance of a healthy heart to living a happy life. The heart has always been of pivotal importance in literature and religion. Science is no different.
The exhibit runs until February 9, 2010. It is located on Don Mills Road in Toronto, south of the intersection of Don Mills and Eglinton. Entrance is $28.50 for an adult, and $18.50 for a child, which includes a ticket to Body Worlds and access to most of the Center.
by Matt Herron
I met a Chinese couple while I was hiking on Bruce Trail. They were old enough to be grandparents, gray hair accenting their temples, but they had young faces and calm eyes, full of life. I stood with my back to them, gazing into a valley spread with trees and a golden-orange carpet of leaves, when the man walked over to speak to me. His wife remained sitting patiently a few yards off the path.
“Where is Tiffany Falls?” he asked. I did not know. He told me proudly that they had hiked four kilometers, out of the valley, to sit on that log and eat their lunch. He produced a map from his pocket and explained to me that the falls were back the way I had come.
I told myself that they ought to be able to enjoy their hike in peace, and left. I chased the rumble of the falls off the trail, across private property. I ended up on the wrong side, too far up river. I could hear, but not see, the water rushing to meet the rocks.
Forced to retrace my steps, I headed back down the trail, then along the road to a parking lot with signs pointing the way to Tiffany Falls. As I started down the new trail, I saw the Chinese couple again, this time walking towards me. We stopped and greeted each other. They told me that the falls were beautiful. I told them I had wandered into the wilderness for a while, and then, laughing, we parted.
They remind me of my own grandparents. Only they were an American couple in China, and Nana would be the one chatting to a young Chinese man lost in the woods, Papa smiling patiently behind her.
by Matt Herron
Through the Global Warming hype I have remained skeptical towards the idea that our carelessness and lax standards have caused our planet’s climate to overheat and blow a fuse. Mother nature, I thought, can take care of herself.
But the fad for Green is growing on me. Even if the future that climate doomsayers paint for us is blown wildly out of proportion– how often is your weather man spot on about tomorrow?– we cannot go backwards from here. No effort toward a healthier planet, a more sustainable economy, a cleaner life, can possibly be wasted.
To get right down to the basics, GOOD takes the day to tell us about our Water problems and what might be in the future. However, I hope the ingenuity of our engineers is enough to avert the impending civil war over Florida’s oyster industry…
by Matt Herron
Every day I take the bus to work. Most days the ride is uneventful. Downtown I step onto the sidewalk, wade through the crowd swarming to board the bus I just vacated, and walk the rest of the way to work.
Today the bus was late. There is another route that comes down a sidestreet next to the stop where I catch my ride. Since our bus was late, my friend and I jogged over and hopped onto the other one. It takes a little longer to get downtown, but better late than never.
The two of us sat down on one side near the front of the bus. We were talking, laughing, just shootin’ the shit. Harmless, really. Minding our own business. There was a woman on the opposite side of the aisle. My glance must have grazed over her once or twice, but she occupied only a distant part of my consciousness as I was thoroughly engaged in conversation with my friend.
I freely admit that I enjoy watching people, and I do my best to suspend judgment. Judging someone based on one look is a terrible injustice. All the same, people are the most interesting thing in the world to me. My mother and my Uncle call it People Watching. Maybe I inherited it from their side of the family. When I am in public, I am always vaguely aware of the people around me, even if my attention is elsewhere. Just in case, you know. Wouldn’t want to miss anything good.
There we sat, chatting away, when my glance wandered back to the woman sitting on the opposite side of the bus, a couple seats closer to the front. She was very thin, her hair was a bit dishevelled, but that is nothing unusual. Stranger characters make their way onto these bus routes. I had hardly given her a second thought, but as my eyes, under dark sunglasses, met hers again, she stuck her tongue out violently and turned away in her seat so that I saw her in profile. Her shoulders were thrown back now, her chin aloft, her jaw was tightly clenched in anger. It took me a second to register that her gesture had been directed at me. The conversation I was having with my friend paused only slightly before I shrugged it off and resumed talking.
The bus pulled up to the next stop, jerking to a halt. A young man got onto the bus. Before he was seated the driver had closed the door and continued on his route. The newcomer slumped into the seat next to the woman’s offended figure. She was suddenly on her feet. “I’m sick of your type!” she screamed at me. I was completely bewildered at this point. My type? What have I done now? I sprinted over the possibilities in my mind. I have unwittingly given offense to people before. Maybe I bumped into her when I got on the bus. Did I give her a dirty look? My hurried inventory came up empty. She had moved to the front of the bus and stood with her back to the rest of the passengers. She clutched her sweater around her thin frame.
“What did I do?” my friend and I inquired curiously, questioning her haughty back. “I’d really like to know what exactly I did to offend you,” I said.
“You know what you did, you narcissistic fool!” she spat her retort at me, then turned her back again. My eyebrows went up. I shook my head, then tried to forget what had happened. I couldn’t shake it. I looked around at the other people on the bus. Some had hands latched over helpless grins. Others gave me sympathetic, conspiratorial smiles. My friend and I looked at each other and chuckled in disbelief. When I tell people I take the bus to work, they always say, “Look out for the crazies!” I used to think, aw, they’re not that bad. They never gave me any trouble. I stand corrected. I told a few people at work about the incident. Everyone loves a good story.
Only just now, as I was going over the incident in my mind, did I realize that the bus driver never missed a beat.
by Matt Herron
its been five years since I didn’t get to say goodbye to that ebullient little redhead. five years and I am older now than she was then, too young by far for anyone so beautiful to be lost to this world. she was like the older sister i never had. i find myself wondering what she would think of me now, what she would say. i hear her voice, that laugh, always.
for the gift of memory, her love for this life, and ours for her: in memory of t.m.a.
by Matt Herron
I’m tired of hearing about this. Cigarettes cause cancer, cell phones cause cancer, microwaves, plastic bottles, apparently coffee is a carcinogen too. The sun can kill you, sex can kill you. Am I supposed to live in a bubble now? Sustain my health intravenously?
If life causes cancer, so be it. I’ll take life, thanks. I’ve always been in favor of a burn bright and die early approach. I refuse to be sidelined because the new poisonous world is too dangerous for me to live in.
Seems like we’re just gettin’ soft. What did people do before modern medicine? Without healthcare? Without a car?! They walked, thats what they did. And if some shit went down they accepted it as it came, and they invented fate to help them cope.
So don’t hide from life in your plastic bubble. Life was far more dangerous before we had all these security measures and safety nets. Count yourself as lucky. Go outside. Do something that will hurt you. Live.
