John Locke is lost and so are you and me and the waiter!

Two months ago I made the terrible mistake of watching a couple episodes of Lost. I heard it was a good series. That is was interesting and frustrating and thought provoking. So, I checked it out. I find it hard to commit to a show, follow a weekly series and recently my husband and I have found a lot of titles at the library. Britsh shows like Foyle's War, Swedish programs like Hollander, and even sitcoms like Curb Your Enthusiasm. All good entertainment for the right mood. And at a great price. Free! What could I lose? If I didn't like it, no worries - just pop it back in the return bin. All good.

Little did I know however, that I would become addicted to the plight of 48 survivors of flight Oceanic 815.

My journey started out reasonably enough. I rented the first disc with four episodes on it, thinking that would provide a few evenings' entertainment. My husband watched the first two with me and agreed that it looked interesting. I, however, went ahead one episode more, thinking that I would wait for him to catch up to me. Alas, he couldn't catch up to me because the next afternoon I watched the last episode of the disc. I never watch TV in the daytime, but I reasoned I was on a mission. Before the credits rolled I had reserved disc two. Then, down at the library, I noticed disc three was also available. And thus, I descended into television enslavement.

I became obsessed with the show. Fascinated by each character's back story and hooked by the twists and turns of each forty minute show, I calculated that I wasn't really watching as much as it seemed because the commercials were cut out. I figured that watching, say three, or even four, episodes was only really 160 minutes. It was like going to a movie, right? A really long movie. Every night. Day in and day out.

But, as I said, I was on a mission. I had to essentially watch 75 episodes back to back to be ready for the launch of the new season on February 2nd. I didn't make it, but gosh I tried.
Once, when I couldn't get an episode, I took the advice of a friend and saw it online. On February 16th, I am proud to say, I watched the show on TV! I had achieved what I set out to do.

Just the other night, my husband and I went out for dinner. We decided that it was time to leave the house and pay four times the retail price for a bottle of wine. We needed to break out of the routine. Leave the kid at home. Talk about something other than new gyprock and tiles for the bathroom, the fact that our cat doesn't seem fond of the new kitty litter we bought on sale, and that taxes were due.

When the waiter arrived, he asked if there was a special occasion. We told him the truth. That we were fighting against the advancing middle-aged inertia and boredom of the mid-40's. He listened politley and, after lending me a pair of restaurant glasses for people in denial like myself, he said, "Well, guess what me and my girlfriend did last nigfht?"

Imagine how my eyes lit up when he mentioned they had taped the last three episodes of Lost! Imagine my husband rolling his eyes. Imagine the fat tip we left.

I asked who our waiter's favourite character was. He liked Sayid. I like Sawyer and Kate and the Kwons and Hurley, but my all time fave is John Locke. The waiter said he thinks John is the devil. That is soooo obviously totally wrong. If anything, John is Jesus. The Messiah. He has faith. He died for the island. He was resurrected. Geez! (I even went so far as to recently google 'Locke' and 'Rouseau' - benefits of a classical education... they were both philosophers! - you see how deep I can go here?)

The other day I caught sight of a tag line for the series : Lost. The most addictively awesome television show of all time. The end is near.

Thank God. I can't take it anymore.

say what?

On Wednesday, March 3rd, I was invited to present my book to the North Shore Writers group.

What a fabulous and diverse assembly of people; poets and biographers, fiction and non-fiction, children's authors and more. It is a rare breed of person that comes foward, clutching their sheets of paper, some typed, some handwritten, and has the courage to share their words with essential strangers. It takes guts. And writing is not for the faint-hearted, to be sure!

Halfway through the evening we broke for coffee and I was presented with this cake. At first I didn't even notice the error, however, upon further inspection and a double take ... I read what the bakery wrote: It Can Happened to You. How perfect! Indeed it "Happened to Me!" I think it is fitting that these words graced a cake in honour of my book where Penny Stevens never was and never will be perfect! Perfection is over-rated. It's the cracks in things that let the light in... I'm stealing from Rumi or somebody, but the sentiment is true.

Thanks fellow writers!

Own the Podium

A lot has been made out of Vancouver's Olympic motto "Own the Podium." When I first heard the slogan a year or so back it rattled me somewhat as well. However, I am not an athlete and have never competed on a team sport, much less under the glare of a nation hungry to prove something...

What exactly? Sure, we want medals. Lots of them. I get that. But this urgency and neediness speaks to something bigger than what the Games represent. Why does Canada continue to seek confirmation as a people? Is it okay that we want to "own" a podium? Should we have said that publicly? Are we at fault? Where did we go wrong?

It bothers me. It's like a person who is forever in therapy, addicted to crisis, always wondering out loud whether they measure up. I find this navel gazing irritating. We are Canadians, of the True North strong and free! This is a fabulous country with a rich heritage. There is absolutely nothing to prove and this persistant whining and apologizing does nothing for our identity as Canadians. In fact, it takes away our power.

Years back, when I had the energy to stay up past midnight, I recall a character from Saturday Night Live. His name was Stuart Smalley. http://snltranscripts.jt.org/91/91asmalley.phtml and in many ways I liken the relationship between him and Michael Jordan to what exists at the core of many Canadian's bizarre inferiority complex. Why stay up all night wondering if you're "good enough"? Instead, why not just get down to business and get the job done. Quietly. Seriously. With focus and, most importantly, without apologizing.

As for "owning" said podium - perhaps the slogan was simply too brash for us as a nation. Consequently, at the first hint of trouble securing a medal, we as Canadians were too quick to put ourselves down. If there existed a category for self-effacement we would own that podium hands down.

In the end, our athletes made us proud, capturing an unprecendented 14 Gold, 7 Silver, and 5 Bronze. Our city welcomed the world. We got the job done.

Yes, we are a humble people, somewhat quirky, definitely humourous, welcoming, bilingual and fair-minded. We are thirty-five million men and women, 206 of whom are Olympic athletes. None of whom have anything to prove.

So, I say, stop apologizing.
Sorry, that's just my opinion.

A very posh book club!

On February 4th I was whisked away to a book club out near UBC. Now I don't want to diss my own book club - the one I've been a member of since, gosh, the time flies! They're my good friends and we all put out a few treats and, of course, wine. What would a book club be without wine? But these ladies pulled out all the stops. I was even given a pair of earrings made by one of the women in the group.

It was great fun to talk about my novel and answer questions.

And I hope I get invited back when I finish my next novel. Maybe get a necklace to match!

Go Canada Go!

I am watching too much tv!

check this out!

Welcome to Lynn's Blog

Right. Here's the thing. I wrote a book. Good fun. If you're reading this you likely already know that. Now I'm blogging. Unfortunately, at the moment, what with the stress of setting this dang thing up, I am exhausted and have nothing to say.
Stay tuned.

cheers,
Lynn