How To Break a Canadian Man

It's 2017. I was just about in the best shape of my life, the day we headed for the airport. I work out. I have a physical "job," helping a friend renovate his house. (I had recently declared myself retired...never worked harder, or longer, or for less in my life.)

It's about 24 hours of travel from our home in Victoria, BC, Canada to our destination in Osaka, Japan. By the time we land in Osaka, my family (Noah 12, Hana 10, Junko stuck at "40-ish") looks ready for bed—hospital beds. 

The bruised bags under my wife's eyes are so large that they count as carry-on. She's smiling, but fifteen years into this marriage I know better than to ask how she's doing. Both of the kids  look like limp zombie noodles and are dragging their backpacks along the ground. Noah feels sick. He's so prone to motion sickness that I'm afraid to mention that the earth spins. Last trip, he threw up once each hour, then one final time on the doorstep of the hotel. This time, he managed to hold out until the wheels touched ground and bounced his lunch into a paper bag. All three of them look like prisoners of war who've gone three rounds with Mike Tyson.

I'm tired but not overly so, and feel justifiably proud of how well I've endured, but not too cocky. My wife is 12 years younger than me. By tomorrow morning she and the kids will have bounced back, ready for another round. I am the liability. I'm nearing sixty and even though I take care of myself so that I don't often get sick or injured, when I do, I don't bounce back so much as crawl.

The first eight days continue to go well for me. We are touring...walking a lot, every day. The kids get bored, tired and sore. Both of my wife's feet are covered in blisters, effectively crippling her by the end. But I am completely fine.

Then we move from a hotel to her family's home—from fast food to home cooking, from noisy Osaka streets to quiet rural lanes but, most significantly for me, from plush, foamy comfortable beds, to thin futons on hard tatami mats.

This is not my first trip to Japan and, when I was younger, I was surprised at how comfortable the futons were and wondered why we, in the West, choose to complicate the simple matter of lying down to the point of needing bed frames, boxsprings, sprung mattresses with foam toppers, and headboards.

That was then.

Now...

I awake from that first fitful night's sleep achy and hobbled, like a 90-year-old man. I have to spend ten minutes stretching under the covers to limber up in preparation for rising from the futon.

Overnight, the temperature has spiked from a tolerable 27ºC (81ºF) to over 30ºC (86ºF). And those last 3 degrees must be the hottest ones because suddenly my pores erupt like geysers. I take a cold shower which offers about ten minutes of relief before the sun kicks into high gear. By 9am, it's sweltering and so am I.

It's hotter inside the house than out, so I find a place in the shade and sit on a nice soft rock and read a book. From time to time I strut about with my arms stretched wide like the saviour I am not, in order to air my armpits. That night, I dream of snow cones and penguins.

Over the next few days, my body adjusts somewhat and I no longer find the futon uncomfortably hard. It's probably because I am now uncomfortably hot. Sleep rises to just below oxygen on my list of health priorities. Deny me a good night's rest and my condition collapses like a pyramid of cards. I am now the only one of us with bags under the eyes.

Three days later, the mercury plummets and it begins to rain. Like most Japanese houses, this one has no central heat. Ever practical, the Japanese prefer to heat their bodies, instead of the entire house. For this purpose, the living room has a table set into a sunken area under which is a nice warm space heater. From the edges of the table hangs a thick blanket (kotatsu) to retain the heat. Regular trips to this area become routine, topping up our heat reserves, like Roombas charging their batteries.

The two warmest places in the house are the kotasu and the heated toilet seat. But now I'm wearing long underwear, and sitting on the toilet is a comfort trade off.

Such cold weather so early in the year is unusual and so we are not truly prepared. We all have only one long-sleeved shirt and one pair of long pants which, as luck would have it, had just been washed the night before we woke up to rain. They are now hanging in our unheated bedroom, insulated from the outside cold and humidity by walls of paper, as are we.

Machine dryers are not common in Japan. Japanese houses are more cramped for space than American houses and, in the past, this was the main reason. But, these days, the dryer can be stacked or even built into the washer itself. Yet they are still not popular. Several years ago, a large Japanese manufacturer made a marketing push to sell clothes dryers. The push failed and now, it's even hard to find one in a store. I'm not entirely certain why, but I'd guess that it has something to do with the Japanese work ethic. No Japanese housewife wants to be accused of laziness, and one of the most visible signs that she's hardworking is loads of laundry out on the line, each day. If the lines stay clear, then the neighbours would know that she had a labour-saving device. Tongues might wag. Strengthening my case is the fact that where clothes dryers failed, dishwashers are selling well. A neighbour might see that you have one, but can't know whether or not you use it. 

As a practical matter, however, it would be a great benefit to be able to dry clothes during the rainy months of the year. Japanese houses aren't spacious to begin with, let alone when festooned with wet laundry. As well, I don't appreciate having my saggy underwear on display. Nor do I appreciate seeing my father-in-law's.

Until the weather turns, our attire will be the same indoors as out. Beneath my windbreaker, I am wearing three t-shirts and three pairs of socks. Additionally, my wife is bundled in an old down jacket of hers that she found in the storage room.

Two days after this, the sun comes out to play. We're all in our pyjamas for a morning, waiting for our clothes to dry on the line. By noon, we are fully and appropriately clothed for the first time in a week.

I'm still stiff and sore and so decide to take a nice long walk which, along with sleep, has always been a secret weapon to cure all that ails me. The added benefit of a walk is that none of my family members are interested in coming with me. It's a glorious three hours of quiet back-road exploration. I return home feeling renewed.

That night, all the muscles which I thought would be limber and relaxed start tightening. I am unable to find a comfortable sleeping position. After a couple of hours of tossing and turning and cursing the tiny wheat-filled pillow, my entire back seizes up. I decide it might be easier to sleep sitting up and wander the house looking for a comfy chair. 

Japan laughs.

This is a typical Japanese house. The only chairs are the stiff wooden ones at the dining room table. Other than that, I have my pick of places to sit on the floor. Sitting cross-legged on a floor, I have found, is not something you can adapt to in just a few weeks. It requires the lengthening of crotch tendons, strengthening of ancillary back muscles and, I theorize, you also have to somehow raise your blood pressure enough for blood to blast its way through between your own fat and a hard floor, and around the tight corners created at your joints when performing human origami. Typically, I sit at a Japanese table the way clothes tumble in dryers...constantly reconfiguring to take the strain off of muscles I never knew I had, and to let blood reenter my butt cheeks.

I slide my body under the kotastu. At least I'm in a sitting position without having to fold my legs and I'm warm. The room is small, so the walls are not far away. I could keep my legs under the blanket for warmth and slump against the closest wall. But it's a sliding wall/door, and largely made of paper. It rattles in its tracks like a tambourine, and if I put any real weight on it I'll likely fall right through. There are puffy seat cushions strewn about the room. I grab one and put it on the table as a pillow.

The last time I look at the wall clock it is 5:00am and miraculously, mercifully, after that somehow I fall asleep. I drift off wondering how many people have farted into that pillow.

There are currently nine of us crammed into this 1500 square foot abode and two of them are my nephews; young,  single men with active social lives. Two others are farmers who rise so early that they annoy roosters. Each day, quiet lasts only a few hours. The rest of the time the household creaks, bangs, and rattles with movement. I am awoken at 6:30am by the explosion of morning activity as everyone gets ready for school or work. They're all headed to the breakfast table. The nephews have snapped photos of me asleep in a puddle of my own drool to show their friends.

I try to lift my body from under the living room table and discover that beyond the cluster of aches and pains I went to sleep with, the heels of my feet are deeply bruised from the long walk. I grit my teeth and hobble to the bathroom.

The most positive thought I can generate is that there are few body parts left to fail.

I haven't had butter, cheese, or Tim Horton's in five weeks.

I am a broken Canadian man.

The Mature Applicant

   

 For me, being a writer is very rewarding, but not in a way that means I don't need a day job.
     I've been lucky in that my day jobs have always come to me very easily, been exceptionally lucrative and allowed me the time I need to write. I never worried about my job—that is, until I no longer had one.

The Shot Across the Bow:
     One day, about five years ago, I was in my car, listening to the radio. The host was interviewing a man who had a Masters in Software Engineering, had been in the business about thirty years and risen within the corporate structure to manage large projects and oversee a team of experts. He was well-spoken, seemed very grounded, and simply oozed competence. He reminded me of myself, except for the master's degree, high level of corporate achievement and the oozing. For most of his career, he had been working on a massive project for a very large firm. After successfully guiding the decades-long project through its final stages, he was told there was no other slot within the corporation for him. For the first time in his professional life, he found himself unemployed, at the age of 55. I listened attentively because, at that time, I was 55 and seriously considering leaving my job of 15 years. That parallel seemed particularly relevant.
     At first, the software engineer was not worried about his job-hunting prospects. He had done well for himself, and no longer needed the high wage or wanted the high-pressure of being a Project Manager, and was justifiably confident that he would be seen as valuable in a lower-ranked position. Two years later, he was still unemployed.
     Looking back, he realized that, from a job-seeking point of view, he had made a few mistakes during his career. He had failed to keep track of all of his smaller achievements in bringing the main project to fruition. And so that one, large-scale project and one employer ended up being just about the only thing on his resume. He'd also failed to get a written endorsement from people he had worked with who had found him valuable. So he had very few references. And, he'd focused so intently on his own project, that he'd lost contact with everyone else in his profession. But, he couldn't shake the feeling that the largest factor was his age.
     Regardless of his experience and the wisdom that came with it, he no longer fit. Some prospective employers viewed him as too old to be of use; others as overqualified and, potentially, a threat to their own position within the corporate hierarchy. Beyond that, he was not a blindly enthusiastic young graduate. His mature perspective precluded an unswerving dedication to any single capitalistic cause. And, with a family and a full life waiting for him at home, he was no longer the type to stay late to meet an unreasonable deadline. Another separator was the fact that, though he wanted to work, he did not need the money. His perspective and all of his motivations were different than the rest of the workforce.
     He had always felt himself to be a valuable asset, a very handy guy to have around, and was stunned to find himself unable to obtain work in his chosen field, at any level. To this day, I wonder what became of that man, and listen carefully to Walmart greeters and fast food clerks, thinking I might one day recognize his voice.

Familiar Waters:
     Well, that interview scared me a little.
     I, too, was 55 and might soon be unemployed. I, too, had always been seen as a valuable asset in every project I'd ever been involved with. And I, too, had remained within a single organization for too many years, never kept track of all my successes, never got endorsements from people who I'd worked with, and allowed my old contacts to fade away. Like the software engineer, I had done well enough for myself that I didn't really need a lot of money. And, like the software engineer, I had never had to look for work before. When I was younger and more connected, I had always had offers of new and interesting work waiting for me when a project ended. Those days were gone.
     Initially, I wanted to return to my roots and find some magazine-related work. But that dream was dashed within the first week.
     Based on my resume, four of the most successful local publishers were gracious enough to talk with me. The publishing world had certainly changed since I was last involved. Twenty-five years ago, the magazine business was similar to the modern movie industry; under pressure from competitive forms of entertainment, but still a big draw. But then the Internet evolved, robbing the magazine world of all but a thin wedge of the pie. There was little fat on the bone and only the fiscally-savviest magazines survived. The essential question from each publisher boiled down to, "How will hiring you bring me more money?" Truth was, it wouldn't. I was no longer a good fit for any highly competitive business environment. Though I am an experienced layout artist and skilled writer, I'm just not hungry enough to compete with a newcomer armed with fresh enthusiasm. I could possibly have fit in a management position but was unwilling to commit to such responsibility.


Murkier Depths:
     I spent the next month rebuilding my resume, searching and applying for a wide variety of jobs online and in person. Out of forty applications, I managed to get 2 interviews... and one only because I followed up by walking in unannounced and luck was with me that day—the boss just happened to be standing right there and, for whatever reasons, had the time and inclination to talk with me. The position was to manage a small but busy office, just about exactly what I had in mind. That interview went well, but the entire time I got the vibe that he just didn't want an old man at the front desk, regardless of how smoothly I might manage the office. As an able, straight, white male, it was my first personal experience with any form of discrimination.
     Applying for jobs was different from the Jurassic period during which I had last sought work. It was obvious to me that most employers posted their jobs online, insisting resumes be delivered via email or submitted through sophisticated, custom databases. This approach adds a lot of fuel to an already hot job market as it encourages applications from around the entire world. As a result, employers are bombarded with qualified applicants. Like a government answering machine phone tree, an online application is designed to keep the hordes at arm's length until they can be whittled down to a civil and manageable gathering. Several times, I followed up an online application by walking in the front door, tailored resume and cover letter in hand, but I never got past the receptionist.
     With larger organizations, even applying for low-level filing clerk positions requires you to open an account, sign in, create a personal profile, reconfigure your resume to fit the categories of the company database and, as often as not, take a series of skill-assessing tests. When it comes to computers, I'm unusually adept, but even for me, it was a time-consuming, frustrating, and often confusing process. I once spent more than two hours applying for a position, only to then be served an automated message telling me that my resume, test results and application were invalid because I had already spent two hours applying to that position which had been posted under a different title, on a different database.
     Adding to my frustration was the gut feeling that all of these jobs would end up going to people with inside connections. I have since learned this to be truer than not.
     Filling out online applications made me realize that the entire job-seeking vocabulary had also evolved. I noticed that the language was wordy and laced with hyperbole, and there was an expectation for certification for many tasks which I considered minor, like sorting mail or sending and receiving emails. I had done all those things, but the existence of certification for such things had never occurred to me. The unsupported claims on my resume would be pitted against certification on a competitor's resume. The discrepancy between my short, straight-shooting resume and the expectations of the application process was blatant. This, alone, should have made me realize that I am not cut out for any kind of government work. Sadly, I persevered.
     Judy, one of my oldest and most intelligent friends has built a strong business for herself developing powerful resumes, and coaching professionals as they transition from one career to another. (Website: http://www.resumecoach.ca/) I gave Judy a call and she graciously agreed to help me supercharge my resume. Over the course of a few weeks, we spent many hours dredging from my memory every significant event that might demonstrate an acquired skill, then translating it into what I sardonically referred to as "Govie-speak." My resume expanded from one and a half pages to seven. Eventually, I ended up with nine hefty modules that I could swap and adjust to tailor a resume toward anything from communications to janitorial work, management to choral singing—whatever the situation required. I had become a career chameleon.

     For another month, I continued filling out online applications to government organizations. What finally KO'd that effort was a ninety-minute test that might have been written by Dr. Suess. Here is a sample. (I made this one up, but truly, it is not an exaggeration.)

Given that:
• Lamalexors are speedy, but inaccurate, and can enter ten pages of data per hour.
• Lamalemors are slow, but accurate, and can enter 5 pages of data per hour.
• Loralamas are very dedicated, but only moderately accurate, and can enter 3 pages of data an hour.
If your team consists of 5 Lumalexors, 3 Lamalemors, and one Loralama, what organizational arrangement would be best to most efficiently expedite the task at hand?

     Very Blade Runner-esque: "You're in a desert, walking along in the sand when all of a sudden you look down and see a tortoise. It's crawling toward you..."
     Most of the questions involved juggling five or six loosely related variables and could be figured out with the help of a piece of scrap paper, but none were easy or obvious and many contained logical flaws, or at least prompted you toward logically flawed assumptions. At best, such a test might reveal people who are either dumb or desperate enough to waste time with vapid word-puzzles but would most certainly serve as a deterrent to anyone of value. And, in no way would it help qualify a candidate for a clerking position.
     I came away from it shaking and soaked in sweat. Classic PTSD or, possibly, an inoperable brain tumour, according to WebMD.
     Finally, I realized that I would never fit in with any organization that valued such tests and that this had been a completely misguided waste of two months.
     Judy's advice was not flawed. She is very good at what she does. The resume we'd created was a precision-tooled, high-powered implement aimed at a specific target. Problem was, I had identified the wrong target. I had forgotten that I am results-oriented and prone to speaking my mind. I have no aversion to authority but am also not averse to questioning it. I wouldn't last a week in a government organization.
     I changed tactics and targeted local businesses that interested me, regardless of whether they were advertising an opening or not. I did manage to get sit-downs with more people, this way. At first, I thought my new, seven-page resume might help me through the door of smaller organizations, but I quickly discovered that the pomposity and wordiness of the document were embarrassing to defend in an interview with someone in the "real" world. Managers in money making organizations don't have the time or patience to wade through seven verbose pages. Nor can they afford to hire based on vague and hyperbolic claims of competence. After a couple of tries, I completely stopped using it.
     The world hadn't changed that much.


The Last Gush of Bilge Water:
     Through an organization called GT Hiring Solutions, the provincial government offers free counselling and other resources for people having trouble in their job search. (I recommend this service. It is very well organized and there are a lot of valuable resources available, at no cost.) 
     I signed up for a session of councilling. During the session, the young counsellor asked me for a copy of my resume. I gave her the two-page version. She looked it over and seemed impressed, said it was "nice." But as I was digging around in my briefcase for the accompanying sheet of references, she noticed the other resume and asked to see it. "Whoa!" she exclaimed. I was about to make a joke of it when she squealed, "This is very impressive!"
     "It's seven pages long, littered with exaggerations and redundancies. It's about as close to reality as a movie based on actual events starring Jean Claude Van Damne. Who in the world would waste valuable time reading it?" Or watching a movie with Jean Claude Van Damne, for that matter, I thought, but did not say.
     She held up an index finger, putting me on pause, and I waited ten minutes while she finished reading it. "It's exactly what HR people are looking for," she declared.
     That was my last counselling session.

The Waters Within:

     My difficulty in obtaining employment certainly had something to do with external factors. The work world was filled with bias, and I was fishing without a network.
     But, I too, had changed and now harboured internal barriers to employment.
     Most significantly, I had no idea what I wanted to do. This lack of focus led to a lot of wasted effort pursuing jobs I was never going to take. It also prevented me from narrowing my wage expectations, which made me shy of commitment. Throughout the previous months, I had been torn between interesting but stressful, high-paying jobs and the exact opposite: mundane, low-paying jobs.
     At the end of one interview, I was offered the job I had applied for and then I suddenly stalled. The interviewer asked me why I was reluctant to accept and I admitted that I wasn't sure. I apologized for wasting her time and told her that perhaps I might just go and do some construction work while I try to figure this out.
     I wasn't joking. Locally, construction was booming and there was an extreme shortage of skilled and reliable workers, to the point where even pushing a broom could pay $20/hr! This was less than half my previous wage, but almost double the wage of most low-end jobs. I was handy, had built two houses for myself, and fitter than most. It wasn't what I wanted, but it was a great stop-gap measure.
     That day, I logged on to Used.ca and called the first individual who wanted some help with what he thought was a small building project. It was not a small project.
     I spent the next year helping renovate his house; top to bottom. That act of exasperation turned out to be a wonderful experience during which I honed and expanded my practical building skills, made lots of money, kept in shape and softened the crease in my brow.
     I also had plenty of time to solidify my goals—though I didn't actually do that.


Wading Back In:
     When that project ended, I joined a GT Hiring Solutions workshop for "mature" job-seekers (50-65) and made some interesting discoveries by observing eleven other people who were in the same position as myself.
     Upon first looking the group over, I was impressed. We were all very presentable. Every one of us there looked younger than I'd expected. Many of us still a lot of the original colour in our hair. As a group, we were fitter than average—no one was feeble or doddering—and we each had an obvious bright spark of energy. But as we got deeper into discussing our job hunting goals, strategies and experiences, I noticed that many of our group—myself included—had a set of somewhat justified attitude problems. Justified or not, though, they were still problems.

• We have fewer connections.
     Most of us had far fewer friends than when we were in our thirties. For a variety of reasons, we are much less networked.
     Adding to the impact of this observation: A good friend of mine retired from the military at about the same time that I walked away from my job. He is close to my age, and, like me, sought a new, lower-stress position, far removed from what he'd been doing for the last 30 years. The day he retired, he had three job offers on the table. Why? Because he and his family are the most social people I have ever met and, thus, he has a very powerful network filled with people who know his value. I can safely predict that he will never be unemployed, so long as he is willing to work.

• We lack the blind enthusiasm of youth.
     Blind enthusiasm is what leads newcomers to jump into what seems a very limited opportunity where they learn and wait until one day, there's an unexpected shift in the corporation and the cell walls crack and a shaft of light appears, leading them to the next level. On our timeline, we can't afford to wait for seismic change so, though we search for lower-level positions, we want them to utilize our advanced skills and experience. This is not a realistic expectation.
     As well, workers who are nearing the end of their working lives tend to be less enthused with expanding their skill sets. Learning complicated new skills is not as attractive when you know you won't have the time to hone or build on them.
     Enthusiasm is a very endearing quality which often trumps experience and our general lack of enthusiasm makes us less attractive.

• We are slow to commit.
     This is probably the last job we will ever have. Because we know that we will not be winding our way through the organization toward what interests us most, we wish to get more out of the lower-level positions we apply for. Often our wish list is just not realistic. The most fulfilling jobs are not often at the lower levels.

• We aren't humble.
     Because we bring a lot of experience and skills to the table and are no longer seeking top-dollar for them, we expect to be treated as a valuable asset from day one. Many of the people in our group felt the need to make it clear to the employer that they really didn't need a job. Such a declaration only adds another car to the train of thought that you are overqualified and likely to leave, and is no way to make an employer feel secure in choosing you.

• We have a tendency toward the negative.
     It can be frustrating to watch people learning what we already know, and it's sometimes difficult to remain motivated knowing that the papers we shuffle today are destined to become tomorrow's trash.
     One thing that life teaches us is that it is a long haul from the first inspiration to the last spike, and that few things go as planned. Unblemished success is rare, ethereal, and often fleeting. A skeptic will be proven correct the majority of the time and so, as we age, it is easy to fall into a perpetually critical mode which is not conducive to action and progress, and not welcomed in the workplace.

• We are seeking more meaning.
     Most in my group were searching for less money, less stress, but more meaning. They no longer wanted careers but wanted to feel that they were contributing in some tangible way. Exactly what fulfilled this wish was different for each person. For some, this meant they needed to work for a deserving boss; for others, it meant charity work.

• We want less work.
     Failing to find that one perfect, inspirational position, most of us wished to work a three-day week.
     (Interestingly, one of our group made this work to her advantage. Though she knew absolutely nothing about paint, she walked into a paint store and told the manager her story: She was new to town, having moved because of her husband's job. She wanted to work at one place for the next five years, until her husband retired. She explained that she had chosen the shop because it was one block from her house and that, if he hired her, she would work there, three days a week, for five years, with no vacations. She was hired on the spot. Sometimes, if people can understand your situation, they can better see how you might fit into their organization. So, tell your story.)

• We say "no" to overtime.
     None of us wanted to be pressured into staying past quitting time—there's nothing in it for most of us. We're not looking for extra money or to get ahead in the organization. We just want enough to live semi-retired, without worry.


     In short, what we were all looking for was for a stranger to offer us a job that we are overqualified for, that comes with no more than a perfect and inspiring amount of pressure, and for which we have talent, skills and energy to spare, allowing us to perform above and beyond, so that we are valued, without having to stay beyond quitting time. Something with mid-level pay and entry-level responsibility would do nicely.
     Mature workers can be very fussy job-seekers. And that's probably the single largest reason they retire.


Hauling Myself to Shore:
     The positive experience I had renovating a house altered everything. Right now, being in construction in Victoria is a little like being a doctor: If you attend a dinner party and mention that you wield a hammer, suddenly everyone you talk to is asking for renovation advice, or if you can tile their bathroom, or repair their sink, or build a shed in their backyard. My largest problem wasn't a lack of opportunity; it was an inability to commit. Eventually, I just started saying "yes," and I've been as employed as I want to be, ever since.

The Girl with the Hammer

The cliche is a boy with a hammer and a girl with a hairbrush.

In North America, it's the most commonly accepted social contract between a man and a woman. It has always seemed, to me, an unhealthy arrangement—an unsophisticated agreement drawn up by the most inexperienced, impetuous, and undisciplined people in our society: the young. 

Agreed to early on, it typically remains unquestioned long enough for us to build a little empire and breed, fulfilling Nature's imperative. Reduced to the essentials, it pits a woman's sexuality against a man's usefulness. One large problem with it is that it hobbles women, which in turn hobbles the men they marry.

I was thinking about this and how I might teach my son and daughter to avoid this trap. It is difficult for both.

Young men's egos are tied to their sexual urges, which are overpowering for a good portion of their lives. Men often confuse sex with love. In fact, I believe young men typically fall in love through sex. Hormones are involved and when they surge they override logic to a degree that is at once amazing and frightening. Logic does return, briefly, immediately after sex. I have no idea how I am going to get my son to see the difference between sex and love. It took me about 40 years to do that, myself. And, older and wiser though I may be, I am still vulnerable to misinterpreting my feelings. Most modern North American men have little trouble being intimate, but making love is an act that connects emotion to their day-to-day intimate behaviour. For men, it's a very powerful link in the intimacy bond.

Young women often abuse their sexual power over men, bartering their way to security through much effort expended on their youthful looks. The extra time and effort seem innocuous when one is young and life is relatively uncomplicated. But it's at least an extra hour of physical maintenance each day, and time spent monitoring trends and, of course, shopping. As well, women endure the pain and physical harm that many fashion trends inflict. And, it's a major distraction from more important matters. It all adds up. Throw in a job, a couple of kids, and the deleterious effects of aging, and the energy expended to maintain that youthful appearance spirals, becoming a confidence-sapping handicap that men don't share.

On top of the time wasted, of course, there is a deeper danger associated with being evaluated based on looks. It's a game that constantly chips away at self-esteem because, from the very start, there are always more youthfully beautiful people out there, and every day that goes by sees that number increase.

The upshot of all of this is that a woman ends up more dependent and with less power to maintain her lifestyle than a man. The flip side is that the man ends up with a pretty, but dependent, partner. It's punishment for both parties.

And a woman can't drop out of this system without facing consequences. Going "all natural" visibly identifies her as different. Society does not encourage "different," though it may tolerate it. In fact, "different" is the exact opposite of "Society." Women will have more trouble connecting with her, and men, most of whom have been programmed by society to be visually attracted to trend-driven models, will tend to pass her over. Of course, this is a generalization with a large number of exceptions, but still, it is true for the majority.

And though it may not be fair, it is the reality for the foreseeable future. As intelligent and progressive as modern young people are, they remain ruled by the same hormones which have conjured the same social pact since the beginning of time, when I was born.

If you accept this, as I do, then you will be concerned for your children, as I am.

My first big-picture realization regarding raising a daughter was that she would need a robust self-esteem to be able to resist the hobbling social pressure to base her worth on her looks.

I call her my "Do Girl" because when she was a toddler, she used to insist on doing everything herself. "I do, I do," was her favourite phrase.

My "Do Girl" in action at age 4, helping to stain her brother's treehouse.
(Note that her 6-year-old brother is nowhere to be found.)

...and at age 11, helping to stain our storage shed.
(Brother remains MIA.)

I am thankful that she's inherently built that way, but I still push her a bit because the only real way to gain self-esteem is to do things. It's a very positive cycle: the more you do, the more confident you are that you can do things and, consequently, the more you want to do. She emerged from the womb with an interest in fashion and style, but she is prone to being active and yet intellectual enough to question a lot of human behaviour that most of us take for granted, so I feel she is quite well insulated from the judgements and putdowns she will undoubtedly encounter.

My son likes his solitude and would prefer to spend time reading, playing video games or making YouTube videos. He is technically minded and always wants to understand how things work. My daughter is more social and needs less time alone. She doesn't care how things work but is keen to understand people. It's interesting because I notice that my daughter can be easily upset by the feelings or opinions of another person, whereas my son seems much less concerned with what others think but is more easily upset when a device doesn't work the way he expects. He has a thicker skin because, so far at least, machines are generally less malicious than people.

This is not inherently a boy/girl thing, but because society promotes a divide, almost every one of my male friends has become the in-house technician/mechanic for every modern convenience their family owns, regardless of their affinity for the job.

For me, there are days when it's overwhelming. I often arrive home after hours of solving problems at work to a list of devices that are offline, leaking or making a strange sound—all of which, apparently, is my responsibility. When you think of the number of machines attached to the average household—not to mention the structure itself—it's a staggering responsibility for a single person. It would be fairer if this could be shared.

And fairness is a big deal because letting your partner in a long-term relationship take on more than their fair share not only risks resentment but is also robbing you of power. The person who is actively doing a thing always has the greater influence over that situation. The person who contributes more is building more self-esteem and skills and, consequently, more personal value. It really doesn't matter whether we are talking about repairing the wi-fi, communicating effectively, or expressing love—the essential fact remains true—the more you do, the more power you gain as an individual.

Of course, there is rarely a perfect balance and it's difficult to establish the relative values of each contribution, but if the imbalance is too great, it can create a "winner" and a "loser" which is not healthy for any relationship.

I am witnessing my 13-year-old son step into the role already. If I am not available, both my wife and daughter instantly turn to him to solve issues with the TV, wi-fi, or computers.

It made me realize that there is a small way to help a daughter retain more power throughout her life: Teach her the value of understanding how things work. In fact, knowing how a device works is a responsibility that comes with ownership.

It's little different than owning a pet. You shouldn't be expected to perform surgery on your pet, but you should know how to feed and care for it. Our responsibility in owning machines is not to a single living organism—it's to the Earth that we pillaged to create these modern conveniences. We owe it to the Earth to use our machines responsibly, in order to make them last longer. If we each take the time to understand how to properly use and maintain every device we own, there would be three large benefits that would come from this...

1) We would be more hesitant to purchase, electing to own less because there is a limit to how much time one person can spend on each device. (Reduce)

2) The devices we own would generate less frustration, work better and last longer. (Reuse)

3 And, we would be less dependent on others, which is essentially saying we would be more powerful individuals.

My daughter does not need to know how to solder circuits and repair her TV. Acquiring knowledge to that level would be making a career of it. But she should understand the general concepts involved and be able to find answers in the user manual. She should understand the relationship between her TV and everything connected to it, know most of the TV's features, and be able to troubleshoot common issues. This would put her on par with the average man and, thus, she would be less dependent on one.

If she owns a car, she needs to understand the basic theory of how an internal combustion engine works, be sensitive to the state of the vehicle and she should be able to refill the fluids, know when to get an oil change, and how to change the lightbulbs and fuses. Otherwise, owning a car is just reinforcing an illusion of a degree of control over her life that she really does not have. The first time her car stops working, she will be at the mercy of the person she takes it to and indebted to him/her, either financially as with a mechanic, or sexually as with a boyfriend/girlfriend.

For my son's part, I am trying to teach him to evaluate a person by their character. Beyond that, once he's involved, I advise him to teach his partner how things work. We'll start with his sister because I'm pretty sure that it's too late for his Mom. It will be a frustrating and inefficient process at first, but the benefits will accrue.

If we all start treating our machines as we would a pet, we can become better people who create happier unions... and, perhaps, avoid an AI apocalypse.

______________________________________
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WMDbooks.com

Slices of Laugh: Humorist William M. Dean has been compared to Mark Twain and Dave Barry, in gender. Here are 34 hilarious anecdotes and articles offering his unique perspective on far-flung subjects ranging from life, family, parenting, sex, intimacy, arguments, stealing your neighbor’s water, Japan, clothes dryer repair, violence, drugs, pets, sex again, aging, writing, couponing, Disneyland, scouting, dining with the Queen of England, and more.

     A refreshingly wholesome, uplifting read, perfect for when you’re waiting for your nails to dry, your server to stop texting, your doctor to retrieve an implement, your lover to finish, or to hide behind while following a suspect in a busy terminal. Lots of chuckles, keen observations, pearls of wisdom and nearly 100 funny pictures.

The Space Between Thought: A novel of love, life, death, tea, and time travel.

Simon Sykes has money and power. He has Celeste, a beautiful, talented, and devoted girlfriend. And secretly, he has his pick of other women on the side. But Celeste’s sudden death deals him a staggering blow. It looks like suicide, but only Simon saw the ghostly figure at the scene of the crime. Plagued by grief and guilt, he vows to uncover the truth at any cost. While his business languishes and friends grow concerned for his sanity, Simon stumbles upon a secret that promises the power to unravel the mystery and undo one life-altering moment, to save Celeste and restore his future—time travel.

Meanwhile, Simon's suspicious behaviour has renewed police interest. As the authorities close in, Simon wrestles with time, space, and reality to rescue the love of his life, unmask her true killer, and remodel his world.

I Married Japan: The hilarious journey of Japan into one man’s life

Think you just married an exotic Japanese woman? Wrong!  In fact, you just married all of exotic Japan and 3000 years of history. But, the die is cast, the adventure’s begun, and the wonders and wondering will never cease. Throw in a couple of kids and a quirky Canadian family filled with characters, and you have the makings of epic tragedy, or gut-busting comedy, depending upon your point of view.

Get ready to learn, and be prepared to laugh your way through this collection of Japan-related articles on family life with the Deans!

The Book of 5 Uncredible Short Stories from the distorted mind of William M. Dean

If, all of your life, you have been desperately seeking a book filled with aliens, maniacal sheep, cupids and other mythical creatures—then your life is sad and you are misguided, to say the least. However, luck is with you and within these pages, you will find far-fetched stories from far-flung realities, told with exaggeration that amplifies truths, and adjectives that modify nouns. This is a work of fiction and has been scrupulously edited to exclude all fact so as not to distract you from all those aliens, maniacal sheep, cupids and postal workers you were looking for. For the rest of you, there is at least one stunningly good-looking woman and some cute cats.

Success & Happiness—50 Points to Ponder

No one on the planet has yet cracked the Life puzzle. We are all struggling in some way and there is no single "right way" to live. However, being chronically unhappy has got to be a wrong way.

There are people in my life who seem to have missed the happiness boat. The people I am thinking of have put in great effort to "make the grade," and yet, seem plagued by bad luck and are passed up for opportunities at every juncture. And, they have some other things in common—they are very intelligent, have their eyes fixed on social status and material goods, have a lot of expectations regarding the path that will lead them to these things, and they have a generally negative outlook.

These are good people and it's frustrating to watch them struggle, but I have come to the realization that I do not have the power to help them, beyond being supportive. If I were rich and powerful, I could pay their way forward, but this would rob them of challenges and victories, ultimately weakening them. Because it's easier to spot problems when they are not your own, I have shared some of my relevant observations but found that me targeting specifics really doesn't work. Life is complicated. People are complicated. The target is fuzzy because there is no single cause or effect. And realizations do not come from a single relevant thought, but through a long chain of connected ideas. As well, I am especially wary of being critical without also being constructive.

Most of us share similar shortcomings and frustrations, to a greater or lesser degree, and so a lot of the thoughts and observations I have formed while examining my own life.

I may not be able to help my friends, but on the off chance that someone else needs to hear what I have to say, I present a list of 50 observations regarding life, humans, society, material success and mental health. Somewhere among all of this, you may find some food for thought and, if luck is with you, perhaps something that nudges you closer to happiness.

Please note that none of these are meant to be critical, or as advice to anyone going through a mental health crisis. And, they are very compressed. If I chose to unpack them, that act would generate an entire book. These are, simply, points to ponder, meant to prompt constructive thoughts.

I have copied them onto "ponder point postcards," suitable for sharing on social media. Below that, I have included the raw text containing the same information (but broken into categories) for those who'd like to cut and paste into another format.

TEXT VERSION...

LIFE:
(1) If you live in a first-world country, then you are already wealthy and your ambition is simply a jockeying for position among the rich.

(2) Be humbled by what you have. It's more than any of us deserve and it comes at the expense of others less fortunate, and an abundant earth.

(3) It is more empowering to view chronic dissatisfaction as a sign that your perspective is skewed rather than as evidence that Life is unfair. There is nothing you can do about Life.

(4) Life is unfair—in your favor, as anyone living in a third-world country can tell you.

(5) Appreciate the moment. As bad as things may seem, it could always be worse.

(6) If you can solve it with time and money, and you have both, then be thankful. Needless worrying only adds your health to the price tag.

(7) Life takes unexpected turns. Smart as you are, you can not predict where events and decisions will lead. Fortunately, every juncture presents new opportunities. 

HUMANS:
(8) All the arguments in the world will not alter a person's behavior until they come to the same conclusion on their own. This applies equally to yourself.

(9) Balance: If you are never still,  your mind suffers. If you never move, your body suffers.

(10) Chronic negativity is a symptom of imbalance. Dark, brooding heroes are always unbalanced, and alone.

(11) Positive, enthusiastic people are perceived as balanced and fun and are offered the most opportunities.

(12) An emotional declaration of beliefs is a catalyst for an argument. It shuts down communication. Many who disagree with you may hold their tongues because they really don't care enough to have a knock-down, drag-out battle over the issue. Emotionally charged declarations also signal that you may harshly judge anyone who opposes you. No one likes to be judged. No one likes to feel shame for what they believe.

(13) When people suspect they may be shamed for their opinions, they are reluctant to share them. Thus, in an emotionally-charged setting, a lack of opposition is not a clear sign of agreement.

(14) Allowing that you might be wrong provides space for others to freely express themselves. This tends to generate more options and better choices, as well as reflecting better on you.

(15) Being wrong is better than being a know-it-all.

(16) As I understand it, God is all about your spiritual self and has no interest in earthly, material things. When it comes to your perceived lack of success, do not expect any help or sympathy from God. Relying on God in this way is debilitating.


SOCIETY & BUSINESS:
(17) Society is less a meritocracy than a popularity contest. Business is a subset of society and, therefore, also a popularity contest.

(18) Society is all about getting along. It is not focused on right answers. This is why people can be successful without actually ever being right, or competent. The most popular person is usually preferred over the best-qualified. The least disturbing answer is usually preferred over the most accurate answer. The number one goal of a society is to not rock the boat, regardless of its course. This is why whistleblowers are rarely rewarded and often punished.

(19) It is not reasonable to rail against a society, or stand outside of it, and expect it to reward you. Societies reward those who contribute and endorse and help to steady the boat. This is true of all societies: businesses, foundations, families, churches, countries...

(20) Success within a society is a combination of opportunity, luck and the people you know. If you are willing to use what you are given of each of these, you have a shot. If some value within you prevents you from using people and opportunities that present themselves, then you can only hope for lucky breaks.

(21) Success in business usually involves health and lifestyle compromises that most of us are unwilling to make. A lack of progress in that arena may have more to do with your core values than your abilities.

(22) What is traditionally considered to be success might not be a rewarding goal for you. There is absolutely no shame in this. Success in business is no indicator of mental, emotional, spiritual or physical health—or of happiness.

(23) Sheer genius can be a short cut to success. But, genius is obsessive, compulsive, greedy and unbalanced. If you are not willing to be all of these things, then you have no chance of achieving success through genius alone.

(24) Obvious enthusiasm is a door-opener. Justified or not, a lack of enthusiasm is a door-closer.

(25) If you must point out problems, then be armed with solutions to combat the negativity.

(26) As we age, many of the attributes of successful business people are lost to wisdom.

SUCCESS:
(27) Most of us want the respect and admiration of our peers. Social status is commonly considered an undeniable sign of success. But, it only comes if you achieve what your peers believe to be important. Unfortunately, those goals may not be yours. If you crave the approval of the masses but do not believe what they believe, then you really do not want what you wish you wanted.

(28) Good health should be a primary goal in life. Poor health diminishes your
ability to enjoy life, regardless of your tax bracket. Compromising their health is a common sacrifice people make for material success through years of long hours, obsessive habits,
neglecting relationships, disrupted sleeping patterns, and a lack of physical exercise.

(29) After health, happiness is the only meaningful goal. Happiness is the emotional by-product of appreciating what you have.

(30) Happiness is the only true measure of success; not social status, not wealth, not beauty. Without happiness, none of those things matter. Many people achieve success in business, social status and material things. Fewer achieve happiness.

YOU:
(31) You can lie to the rest of the world, but always be honest with yourself.

(32) Be careful what you choose to believe. Your beliefs are your reality.

(33) Be grateful, always. Acknowledging your blessings maintains a healthy perspective.

(34) The longer in life you remain "all about you" the less compatible you become with your peers, and the worse things get.

(35) Prolonged self-centeredness is debilitating and dangerous and can lead to mental illness.

(36) To be chronically depressed you must be chronically thinking only of yourself.

(37) Martyrdom is adult whining.

(38) Do not wait for help. No one will rescue you.

(39) Perpetually unhappy or negative people make it more difficult for those around them to be happy. People (and therefore, opportunity) will tend to maintain a distance.

(40) If you're banging your head against a rock, it's useless to blame the rock for being hard. Life, society, people are not going to change to accommodate you. If you are chronically unsatisfied, then you need to adjust your thinking. Any change must come from you.

(41) When you look for blame outside yourself, there is no end to the blame. When things go wrong, it is constructive to identify and acknowledge your share of the blame—even if only to yourself. Recognizing your share of responsibility/failure in a situation allows you to learn and move forward.

(42) Being critical of others has a built-in karmic rebound effect. If you are hypercritical of others, you will believe that others are hypercritical of you. Indirectly, you are placing unrealistic expectations in your own path.

(43) Hypercritical people are afraid of consequences and tend to panic, trying to foresee problems, hoping to head them off before they escalate; jumping all over minor things that really just require time to even out. If this is you, try asking yourself: Will anybody die? A “no” answer will help you regain perspective and pull your mind away from the terror zone. Now, imagine the worst case. Mentally live through it, then work backward to the most likely case. Once you've envisioned the worst case, the probable reality usually seems much less threatening.

(44) If you are prone to panic, a great calming trick is to force yourself to walk very slowly. Most find that this almost instantly reduces stress and soothes the mind.

(45) Emotions are animal instinct—primarily intended to protect us, in the short term. Your initial reaction to a situation has only a 50/50 chance of being the best one.

(46) Your reaction to an event colors that event for you, as well as for those you encounter. In nature, there is no absolute good or bad, but the reactions of humans around us help define an event as either positive or negative. This is why sitcoms have laugh tracks.

(47) Life is gray. There is no single, best answer. Your version of "best" is formed by your unique combination of assumptions, experiences, priorities and agendas. You need to believe this to accept the wisdom of others.

(48) Listen in order to learn. If you are cutting other people off when they speak, then you are not truly listening; you are just mining for counterpoints rather than entertaining the alternate point of view.

(49) To strengthen your patience, it's a useful exercise to imagine a person higher up on the philosophical scale than yourself, like Gandhi or the Dalai Lama. Then imagine them having to deal with you. This may help you maintain perspective when dealing with people who not yet learned the lessons that you have.
(50) Find your tribe. You will be most comfortable if you can find the societal group into which you best fit. Your "tribe" will be people who share your perspective on life—possibly family, friends, co-workers or people with similar interests. Time spent amongst such people is affirming and energizing. (One quick and easy way to explore different social groups is through meetup.com)

____________________________

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