Last July I made the decision to finally go vegan. It has been a goal of mine since becoming a vegetarian back in April of ‘02. I constantly put it off out of convenience mostly. Then last July someone actually challenged me to give it a try, and I accepted the challenge. I didn’t have a “cold turkey” incident as I did when I switched to a vegetarian diet though. It was a much slower process.
At first I tried looking around for recipes which were easy to make. Or improvising which is generally how I always cook. I started by doing one meal every now and then followed by one day a week and gradually decreased my dairy intake. In October I then did a short two week trial. Around that time I coincidently had a doctor’s appointment. Based on the doctor’s advice I met with a dietician. That meeting was useless in that I already knew everything that she told me. It was useful in that it reinforced my determination. Shortly thereafter I completed the transition.
What are the big changes? Since July I have been paying far more attention to my health and the role food plays in that. That has come in handy in the transition. Since then I have had more energy and am generally more alert which is nice. One of the major reasons I put this off so long was my love of various kinds of cheese. Yes, I do miss it but not nearly as much as I thought I would. Also nuts and vegetables have largely replaced junk food in my diet. This is a good thing as they have far more nutrients than chips, which was my junk food of choice. Thankfully my choices of alcoholic beverages have not been limited much. Though really considering the fact that I have not had a drink in three months and have not been intoxicated in four, alcohol is not going to play much of a role. I bought a cook book which is very useful for most things. The main problem I face is the distances I must traverse to get most of what I need. Walking to Independent or the Bulk Barn is not pleasant in winter weather.
I called up my good friend George W. Bush to ask if I could borrow the “Mission Accomplished” banner but apparently he doesn’t have it anymore. So I will merely say it: Mission Accomplished.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Decade in Review Part 1: 2000-2004
I generally do a year in review at the end of each year. I figured I’d do a decade in review seeing as we are about to enter a new decade. 2000-09 is the first decade that I can remember pretty much all of. Makes sense considering I was not quite two years old when the 1990s began. I feel fortunate in that regard. From what I’ve seen in pictures, music and movies the 1980’s were a horrible decade. For me my life really began in the spring of 1995. That’s when I learned how the calendar worked and developed a real concept of time. Also around that time I learned how to read and well…make a point of remembering things. Considering the length of this post I’m going to do it in two pieces, one covering 2000-2005 and the second covering the remainder of the decade. I’m going to skip over my move to becoming a vegetarian as I plan on covering that in a post a few weeks from now. That piece will be unrelated to the decade in review posts.
New years eve 1999 was the last year that I failed to be up at midnight. I fell asleep after watching a Great Big Sea concert on TV. Had I been in Newfoundland with them I would not have missed the beginning of the new millennium. Unfortunately I could not last another hour and a half. I was awake long enough to notice that Newfoundland had been spared by the dreaded Y2K bug which gave me some hope for the morning. Now we seem to be going through that same type of paranoia all over again over the whole 2012 thing. I’ll go more into detail on that in 2019. I woke up the next morning and as it turns out Y2K just wasn’t going to happen.
The first nine months of 2000 were my last living in Chapleau. I actually don’t remember all that much about 2000 up until the beginning of the school year in September 2000. I did the first two weeks in Chapleau before transferring to Timmins effective September 18th. I was in grade seven that year and my teacher for my remaining few weeks in Chapleau was Mr. Levesque. I didn’t particularly like that fellow in the years beforehand but I started to in those two weeks or so. It was the first time I was in a class where actual discussions took place. I found this far more interesting than previous school years. Unfortunately after leaving Chapleau it would be another two years before I was in such an environment again.
I left Chapleau with my sister and grandmother on September 15th 2000. Oh yes, Mr. Whiskers was also in the van. There was a manhunt going on highway 101 that weekend. I remember seeing what appeared to be army troops along the highway. They were all carrying automatic weapons so I imagine whoever they were looking for must have been dangerous.
The following Monday I started school at O’Gorman Intermediate. The next two years of my academic career were for the most part torture. Yes, that’s a fine word for it. In my last post I touched on religion briefly. I was hoping that upon moving to Timmins my days in the Catholic school system would be over. Unfortunately that was not the case. I could not stand the ritual praying each morning or the periodic religious ceremonies held in the gym. (I remember one such ceremony quite well. It took place September 11th 2001. About halfway through the little ceremony the principal briefly mentioned that there was something big going on in the U.S. He did not give specifics. It was not until I went home for lunch that I saw what was actually going on.) I did not care for forced indoctrination. I actually had several heated confrontations with teachers and the principal over the next two years. I was also bullied periodically. At the time I was quite sensitive and…well, spineless. To avoid intellectual oppression and bullying I simply did not go to school. I would leave the house and simply walk around town. I got a lot of reading done and got to know some parts of town pretty well. It was my silent protest. Needless to say my marks suffered, not that I cared about such things. Over the O’Gorman period of two school years I skipped roughly 156 school days. I failed both years, to this day I have not passed grade 7 actually. Oh well, I passed grade 8 and all subsequent grades. My little silent protest worked, though it took a hell of a lot longer than I expected. In September 2002 I was switched to R. Ross Beattie, a public school. Free at last!
I spent several weeks in Chapleau and Cartier in the summer of 2001. As I mentioned earlier the school year was awful and the transition was not going well. Returning to Chapleau was quite a nice time. I spent most of that time with Tyler. He and I actually spent a lot of time together in my last year in Chapleau. He was a little more than a year older than me, which seemed like a huge age difference to me when we started hanging out in 1999. That summer he had a new toy, a boat with a 9 hp engine. We spent many hours on that boat exploring the Chapleau river. I remember several of these little expeditions quite well. On one of them we went to the wreck of an airplane that had crashed back in 1948. The pontoon of the plane was the only piece visible from the river. I had been fascinated by that plane since I first saw it when I was probably about four years old. Getting up close to it was very exciting to me at the time. The remains of the fuselage were still there as well as the frames of both wings. By seeing the wreckage one could easily see how the plane came down, the angle and such. I think I was far more into this event than Tyler. Even at that age I had a strong interest in history, I had already read as much as I could about the plane beforehand. It was exciting and a bit sad for me at the same time. Shortly before we left the site I remembered that everyone on the plane had died. I remember standing there staring at the remains of the forward fuselage where these people would have been when they died, just thinking about it.
The following week I was in Cartier. I was there for the birthday of one of my grandmothers and an aunt. My father came. It was the first time I had seen him in nearly two years. I had stopped talking to him in 1998-99 for various reasons. He took me fishing that weekend in an attempt to do the whole bonding thing. I always enjoy being out on the water, so in that regard it was fun. I found it a bit awkward to be alone with him though, particularly after the events of the previous two or three years. I didn’t catch a fish, but my father caught two. Just as well. I would have felt guilty in retrospect given my move to vegetarianism a little over a year away. Hell even then I would have probably released any fish I did get. I never had the stomach for killing. I remember going hunting with my father once and dreading the possibility of witnessing an animal getting shot. Fortunately that hunting expedition was a failure, a successful one from my point of view. This fishing expedition on Mud Lake in the summer of 2001 was the last time I fished. I later found out my father only took me fishing in an attempt to get me to confess that I had failed the previous school year. That subject was not even on my mind while we were on the water.
I spent the next three summers (2002, 03 & 04) in Cartier. Those were all great summers. My grandmother enjoyed them too as she was not alone for them. She really didn’t like living alone. She told me that during the winter months when she’d wake up at night she’d think I was still across the hall which helped her sleep better. On weekends we’d stay up half the night talking about all kinds of things. Life, religion, movies, history, tv, trees. You name it, it probably came up at some point. We’d go through family albums which she had. I particularly enjoyed the stories about her whole life. Over three summers she was bound to repeat herself but I didn’t mind. I enjoyed the stories each time. I’m glad she told me them as I doubt she’d be able to tell me them now. Actually I was quite pleased when I later found out I know more about the family history than some aunts, or my father. A few years later I remember he asked something about my great grandmother, I answered it as my grandmother didn’t hear him. It was in July of 2002 that I drove for the first time. It was a spur of the moment decision on my father’s part. He simply looked at me and asked if I wanted to give it a try and so I did. I remember that quite well, it didn’t last very long and I nearly went into a ditch. Also during the summer of 2002 my grandmother, myself and an aunt went to North Bay and visited my father. It was that summer that I went to my first concert, just by chance. The adults took part in a euchre tournament all day. Needless to say I was very bored. But as time went on and more beer was consumed it became more entertaining. It’s amazing the things people say while drunk, or so I thought at the time. My father stayed longer and I stayed with him. We were about to leave the waterfront when my father just said “Want to go see the Village People?” Sure, why not. It was a pretty good show, but I still don’t have any of their songs in my itunes library. We walked to his house after the show. He was quite noticeably drunk but I didn’t really mind. He had his mind set on getting chicken, but suddenly forgot about it about a block away from Sobeys. Instead of buying chicken there he urinated on a tree. To this day I think of that as I walk through that parking lot in North Bay
In the fall of 2003 I entered high school. The first two years were pretty boring for the most part. Actually I don’t remember a whole lot from that period and am glad. The most vivid memories I have of grade 9 are actually of lying in bed listening to the radio or to CDs I had found or bought. Around this time I joined the Communist Party of Canada. This is an amusing episode in hindsight. My membership lasted two months. The reason my membership expired, ironically, was lack of money. My political beliefs have mellowed a bit since. Now I’m merely a quasi-socialist. I’m generally in line with either the Greens or NDP. Though occasionally even the Conservatives do something I like.
I spent Christmas of 2004 in Cartier with my grandmother and an aunt. My father came for Christmas day and left the next day. It was a very good Christmas. I stayed there until January 3, 2005. I shall talk about the second half of the decade when we make the crossover to 2010.
New years eve 1999 was the last year that I failed to be up at midnight. I fell asleep after watching a Great Big Sea concert on TV. Had I been in Newfoundland with them I would not have missed the beginning of the new millennium. Unfortunately I could not last another hour and a half. I was awake long enough to notice that Newfoundland had been spared by the dreaded Y2K bug which gave me some hope for the morning. Now we seem to be going through that same type of paranoia all over again over the whole 2012 thing. I’ll go more into detail on that in 2019. I woke up the next morning and as it turns out Y2K just wasn’t going to happen.
The first nine months of 2000 were my last living in Chapleau. I actually don’t remember all that much about 2000 up until the beginning of the school year in September 2000. I did the first two weeks in Chapleau before transferring to Timmins effective September 18th. I was in grade seven that year and my teacher for my remaining few weeks in Chapleau was Mr. Levesque. I didn’t particularly like that fellow in the years beforehand but I started to in those two weeks or so. It was the first time I was in a class where actual discussions took place. I found this far more interesting than previous school years. Unfortunately after leaving Chapleau it would be another two years before I was in such an environment again.
I left Chapleau with my sister and grandmother on September 15th 2000. Oh yes, Mr. Whiskers was also in the van. There was a manhunt going on highway 101 that weekend. I remember seeing what appeared to be army troops along the highway. They were all carrying automatic weapons so I imagine whoever they were looking for must have been dangerous.
The following Monday I started school at O’Gorman Intermediate. The next two years of my academic career were for the most part torture. Yes, that’s a fine word for it. In my last post I touched on religion briefly. I was hoping that upon moving to Timmins my days in the Catholic school system would be over. Unfortunately that was not the case. I could not stand the ritual praying each morning or the periodic religious ceremonies held in the gym. (I remember one such ceremony quite well. It took place September 11th 2001. About halfway through the little ceremony the principal briefly mentioned that there was something big going on in the U.S. He did not give specifics. It was not until I went home for lunch that I saw what was actually going on.) I did not care for forced indoctrination. I actually had several heated confrontations with teachers and the principal over the next two years. I was also bullied periodically. At the time I was quite sensitive and…well, spineless. To avoid intellectual oppression and bullying I simply did not go to school. I would leave the house and simply walk around town. I got a lot of reading done and got to know some parts of town pretty well. It was my silent protest. Needless to say my marks suffered, not that I cared about such things. Over the O’Gorman period of two school years I skipped roughly 156 school days. I failed both years, to this day I have not passed grade 7 actually. Oh well, I passed grade 8 and all subsequent grades. My little silent protest worked, though it took a hell of a lot longer than I expected. In September 2002 I was switched to R. Ross Beattie, a public school. Free at last!
I spent several weeks in Chapleau and Cartier in the summer of 2001. As I mentioned earlier the school year was awful and the transition was not going well. Returning to Chapleau was quite a nice time. I spent most of that time with Tyler. He and I actually spent a lot of time together in my last year in Chapleau. He was a little more than a year older than me, which seemed like a huge age difference to me when we started hanging out in 1999. That summer he had a new toy, a boat with a 9 hp engine. We spent many hours on that boat exploring the Chapleau river. I remember several of these little expeditions quite well. On one of them we went to the wreck of an airplane that had crashed back in 1948. The pontoon of the plane was the only piece visible from the river. I had been fascinated by that plane since I first saw it when I was probably about four years old. Getting up close to it was very exciting to me at the time. The remains of the fuselage were still there as well as the frames of both wings. By seeing the wreckage one could easily see how the plane came down, the angle and such. I think I was far more into this event than Tyler. Even at that age I had a strong interest in history, I had already read as much as I could about the plane beforehand. It was exciting and a bit sad for me at the same time. Shortly before we left the site I remembered that everyone on the plane had died. I remember standing there staring at the remains of the forward fuselage where these people would have been when they died, just thinking about it.
The following week I was in Cartier. I was there for the birthday of one of my grandmothers and an aunt. My father came. It was the first time I had seen him in nearly two years. I had stopped talking to him in 1998-99 for various reasons. He took me fishing that weekend in an attempt to do the whole bonding thing. I always enjoy being out on the water, so in that regard it was fun. I found it a bit awkward to be alone with him though, particularly after the events of the previous two or three years. I didn’t catch a fish, but my father caught two. Just as well. I would have felt guilty in retrospect given my move to vegetarianism a little over a year away. Hell even then I would have probably released any fish I did get. I never had the stomach for killing. I remember going hunting with my father once and dreading the possibility of witnessing an animal getting shot. Fortunately that hunting expedition was a failure, a successful one from my point of view. This fishing expedition on Mud Lake in the summer of 2001 was the last time I fished. I later found out my father only took me fishing in an attempt to get me to confess that I had failed the previous school year. That subject was not even on my mind while we were on the water.
I spent the next three summers (2002, 03 & 04) in Cartier. Those were all great summers. My grandmother enjoyed them too as she was not alone for them. She really didn’t like living alone. She told me that during the winter months when she’d wake up at night she’d think I was still across the hall which helped her sleep better. On weekends we’d stay up half the night talking about all kinds of things. Life, religion, movies, history, tv, trees. You name it, it probably came up at some point. We’d go through family albums which she had. I particularly enjoyed the stories about her whole life. Over three summers she was bound to repeat herself but I didn’t mind. I enjoyed the stories each time. I’m glad she told me them as I doubt she’d be able to tell me them now. Actually I was quite pleased when I later found out I know more about the family history than some aunts, or my father. A few years later I remember he asked something about my great grandmother, I answered it as my grandmother didn’t hear him. It was in July of 2002 that I drove for the first time. It was a spur of the moment decision on my father’s part. He simply looked at me and asked if I wanted to give it a try and so I did. I remember that quite well, it didn’t last very long and I nearly went into a ditch. Also during the summer of 2002 my grandmother, myself and an aunt went to North Bay and visited my father. It was that summer that I went to my first concert, just by chance. The adults took part in a euchre tournament all day. Needless to say I was very bored. But as time went on and more beer was consumed it became more entertaining. It’s amazing the things people say while drunk, or so I thought at the time. My father stayed longer and I stayed with him. We were about to leave the waterfront when my father just said “Want to go see the Village People?” Sure, why not. It was a pretty good show, but I still don’t have any of their songs in my itunes library. We walked to his house after the show. He was quite noticeably drunk but I didn’t really mind. He had his mind set on getting chicken, but suddenly forgot about it about a block away from Sobeys. Instead of buying chicken there he urinated on a tree. To this day I think of that as I walk through that parking lot in North Bay
In the fall of 2003 I entered high school. The first two years were pretty boring for the most part. Actually I don’t remember a whole lot from that period and am glad. The most vivid memories I have of grade 9 are actually of lying in bed listening to the radio or to CDs I had found or bought. Around this time I joined the Communist Party of Canada. This is an amusing episode in hindsight. My membership lasted two months. The reason my membership expired, ironically, was lack of money. My political beliefs have mellowed a bit since. Now I’m merely a quasi-socialist. I’m generally in line with either the Greens or NDP. Though occasionally even the Conservatives do something I like.
I spent Christmas of 2004 in Cartier with my grandmother and an aunt. My father came for Christmas day and left the next day. It was a very good Christmas. I stayed there until January 3, 2005. I shall talk about the second half of the decade when we make the crossover to 2010.
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