An Unsuccessful Expedition to the Local Fire Station

The day was March 6^th, 2008. I won four free tickets to see Aaron Pritchett that night in Toronto, and my friend, Katrina happily agreed to go with me.  However, an odd twist found us both single at the time, so that still left two tickets that were going to go unused. But not if we could help it. Ideally, we wanted to take hot guys that we could flirt with and get free drinks from. After not being able to think of anybody, and being unsuccessful at poaching a couple of my brother’s friends (a fact he was none too pleased with when he found out), we started to get creative.

If we couldn’t go with people we knew, hot strangers would be the next best thing. We had to go shopping in Hamilton that day, and realized we could kill two birds with one stone by offering the extra tickets to guys in the mall. We expected there would be quite a lot to choose from; it wasn’t until we were ready to leave and still hadn’t seen any that we realized that at 2:00PM on a Thursday, guys worth dating would be at their jobs.

Getting desperate, we wrote our names and phone numbers on the extra tickets, so we’d be ready for a quick handoff in the event of an adjacent car in the Hamilton traffic carrying attractive men.

Still no luck—it seemed all attractive guys aged 22-28 were at their jobs.

As that fact sunk in, a new idea formed and I excitedly shared it with Katrina. “Why don’t we go to where they are then?! We can even pick their career this way– Let’s go to a fire station!!!” Katrina quickly got on board with the idea. It was a brilliant plan. We figured our local fire station would be empty, save for the wise old chief who would find us quirky and endearing and, most importantly, know two young firemen who would be glad to take us up on our offer. If things went really well, a double-wedding would not have been out of the question.

Since the fire station was within walking distance, we drove back to our apartment and prettied ourselves up a bit, excited by our new prospects. As we approached Thorold Fire Station 1, we saw that things weren’t going to go exactly as planned; we were met with the sight of about 20 firemen, all outside together, washing the fire trucks.

So much for discretion.

We timidly walked on by, finding our courage waning. We hid out of sight around a corner and mentally regrouped. There was no denying the odds were in our favour; the firemen were– for the most part– young guys, and there were some really good looking ones! We doubled back with renewed commitment to our goal. On our approach, some of the guys stopped what they were doing, watching us as we walked straight up to the smallest group.

“Hi. We’d like to speak with the fire chief” (no need to abandon the rest of our plan). As it turns out, the chief was at a conference that day. So we asked to speak to “the second in command”.

“Well that would be me,” said a man stepping forward. I felt myself turn 5 different shades of red as I recognized Terry Dixon, who was not only Isaac’s hockey coach, but also a longtime friend of my dad. Thankfully (and insultingly?), he didn’t recognize me.

“We were wondering if we could speak to you…. In private.” We added that last part quickly, very conscious of the watching eyes all around us.

“uhhh… ok…” Mr. Dixon looked very confused, but complied, bringing along another middle-aged fireman to keep things aboveboard.

“So. What can we do for you ladies?”

We awkwardly told them our reason for being there; we were looking for a couple of upstanding, fun, attractive firemen to escort us to a free concert in Toronto. As we were explaining our mission, we saw their facial expressions go from confusion to bewilderment, and finally settle on amusement.

“Wow. Well that sounds like a lot of fun!” The unknown man started. “I wish I were a young guy, I would definitely say yes! We have some single guys here, I’m sure we can find a couple for you.” We were really encouraged by his confidence.

And then our plan completely fell apart.

They left us and walked over to a group of probably 5 firemen, where they issued a blanket invitation on our behalf. Not quite the subtle move we were hoping for. We couldn’t very well walk away at that point though (what if they said yes?), so we stood there, more embarrassed by the second, watching from a distance as our situation was explained. The firemen were leaning in at first, curiously listening. And then… they broke out into laughter. We saw arms go up and heads shaking as the laughs got louder.

“Uh-oh.” I said, as it finally dawned on us that maybe this wasn’t as brilliant an idea as we’d thought.

At this point there were several other small groups of firefighters still in the dark about what was going on. Upon hearing the commotion, a couple went over to the group to find out what was so funny. As it was explained to them, they joined in the laughter and we sadly conceded they probably weren’t interested either.

Terry and his accomplice came back awkwardly, sweetly expressing disbelief that no one was interested. “There are still a couple more guys over there we could ask,” they began, starting to turn away.

Thankfully, Katrina cut in.

“Sir, there’s only so much embarrassment we can take in one day.”

Mortified, we muttered our thanks for their efforts and walked away as quickly as possible, the laughter still going on in the background.

“Well. I really didn’t see that coming.” I said.

But really, who needed dates anyways? We could just pick up guys there! <Spoiler Alert: We couldn’t.> Not willing to admit defeat and call up female friends to go with us, we let the two extra tickets go to waste and enjoyed the concert; alone, and a bit more humble.

The following week my dad approached Terry at Isaac’s hockey game, and said he heard the Thorold Fire Department was starting a new dating service for women passersby.

“Oh shit, Marv! How did you hear about that? It was the weirdest thing; these two girls just showed up and asked if we could find dates for them! In 25 years of firefighting I’ve never heard of such a thing happening! I couldn’t believe they were serious.”

Not willing to admit the type of daughter he raised, my dad gave no further information, just said that the “news” was “making the rounds”.

Courage

Courage is often depicted with a loud battle cry and a slow-motion foray into what looks like certain death (but usually isn’t). We tend to decide what constitutes a courageous act based on how impressive it looks while being done. Certainly being a firefighter, police officer, or a member of the armed forces takes courage, and generally lots of it. We are quick to award glory to physical acts of courage.

However, courage isn’t merely a physical act. Courage is a mindset, and an intentional one at that.

Equally courageous to the fireman, is the man who on a daily basis refuses to compromise his integrity for the sake of popular approval or momentary personal satisfaction. The policeman shows no more courage than the person going forward on the right path, silently steadfast, even when they feel another route calling. Principled acts of courage are not acknowledged nearly as often as the physical, yet they are so integral to the well-being of a well-functioning society.

The constant portrayal of courage being something needed only when facing extreme circumstances is contrary to the fact that every person can act courageously in their own life every day. If courage is strengthened daily during the seemingly insignificant trials, it will build a foundation strong enough to withstand the more heralded events.

Whatever your situation, approach it with courage. Whatever your measure of courage, use it fully.

“Courage does not always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, ‘I will try again tomorrow.” – Mary Anne Radmacher

To Be! …. or NOT to be??

I have decided to be more decisive. At least, I think I have.

Oddly enough a lot of thought has to go into this decision. It’s not something that can be entered into lightly.

Is not being the wife in the restaurant who says, “…Or maybe the house salad after all… what are the choices again?” really worth it? Never again could I say, “Oh, I hate deciding!” and force my husband to action.

And of course there is that rather large part of me that thinks –or hopes rather—that my husband looks at my adorable, indecisively-winkled nose and thinks, “How charming; A lady who sees the good in everything!”

On the other hand though… I’ve always respected those ‘go get ‘em’ types. You’ll never see Them, finger pensively stroking their chin, debating whether or not their personal ethics allow for Pepsi to be ordered, if the establishment in question doesn’t carry Coke. They never worry of the consequences that could result from buying an orange toothbrush over their regular choice of pink.

And in my mind, those Decisive People are always wearing really fashionable hats.

And I do so love to wear hats.

So I guess I’ll be decisive after all. Oh, and if my reasoning’s flawed… please don’t tell me. I really don’t have the time to keep being this decisive.

Cats & Dogs

Something I wrote 7 years ago…

Since women often (at least stereotypically) prefer cats, and men dogs, I’d always assumed – until recently – it was because cats are feminine, and dogs masculine. However, after putting some thought into the matter, I have found the opposite to be true; cats are very much like men, and dogs, women.

This explains why only women have the patience for cats’ ridiculousness, and even why some get jealous of the attention their man’s dog gets at times.

Some Cat Facts:
-If you’re not feeding them, they’re hard to find…
-…unless of course you look in the lazy chair
-Can be uncommunicative for days, yet still expect a full dish every meal (and a pet, if the mood suits them)
-Excellent hunters
-Not afraid of mice.

Some Dog Facts:
-Loyal and forgiving companions
-Very territorial when other dogs come near their man
-They love, nay, need attention
-Love riding shotgun in a pickup truck
-Sometimes “bitch” is the best description.

Great Expectations

One thing I realized pretty quickly taking care of an infant, is that expectations are *not* my friend. I will even go so far as to say that they are my enemy. I find that on days I have a lot of my ‘to do’ list, or plan out an efficient schedule of errands to run, my little darling doesn’t nap properly (how dare she?), or (when younger) would suddenly want to cluster feed for over an hour, or just straight up not want to be out of my arms.

My most well-intentioned days would without fail, become my most inconvenienced, and I would be so annoyed, and even angry about it.

In contrast, on days where I didn’t need to be in total control, and would set out with the goal of just enjoying my time with little darling, for some reason I always ended up being extremely productive, and (no surprise here) happy.

A friend of mine said how babies can highlight so many things about yourself that you didn’t even realize were a problem, and that has definitely been true for me. I’m genuinely shocked at the selfishness and pride in myself I see popping up all the time that I have to resist.

My annoyance at not getting my expectations met has to do with that pride and selfishness. Mad that something is interfering with MY plans. Mad that things aren’t going how I planned them to. Don’t I deserve this?? Oh yes, entitlement is another one. I have to really check myself and consciously decide to change my thinking at these times.

I’ve found this to be true not just with my little darling, but also in marriage, with work, friendships…

I’ve been told the healthy flipside of expectations are desires.

When you desire something, you’re not looking at it with that same sort of hand-held-out-entitlement. And when I get something I desire, it sparks gratitude in me. Not so when my expectations come my way– because it’s hard to be grateful for something that I so clearly deserved (and probably was too long in coming)

So, I’ve been getting a lot better at identifying my expectations more quickly and putting them to rest. I imagine this is a constant thing one has to do, but as with most things, at least this has been getting easier with practice.

The next time a situation is starting to frustrate you, maybe ask yourself if perhaps you’re suffering from great expectations.

Big Picture Thinking

I was annoyed with Steve last week for something trivial; the type of thing that probably (definitely) wouldn’t have annoyed me had I gotten more sleep the night before. I was rested enough at least to know that my anger was unjustified, but tired enough that I didn’t stop the snarky texts I could send him from entering my head. In this particular instance, I’m happy to report that not being a jerk won out, and after my morning nap (during which the issue suddenly disappeared) I was very relieved not to have to shamefacedly mutter out an apology (*sigh* again) once Steve got home from work.

I forget when this thought came into my head (though I’m willing to bet it was post-nap), but I found myself thinking, “You know, you’re going to be with him a long time, aren’t you?” “Well obviously that’s the point of marrying him”. But the more I thought about it with myself, I realized that more often than I like to admit, I don’t act as if I plan on being with Steve for a long time. If I truly was acting like we’d be together 5, 10, 50 years from now, would I still want to send a snarky text when something trivial came up? What would our marriage look like, even in a couple of years, if that were the case?

It’s easy to treat each day as a separate Thing, completely disconnected from the rest. But the truth is, our days are all connected, building on one another to create something much bigger than their individual parts. Steve and I are creating Something together every day, and whether it ends up being something lovely or not on its completion, depends on how we choose to live on the individual days in the meantime. This is true of all our relationships. You are creating Something, with everyone you know. Someone suggested to me once to think of it as painting a picture on a canvas together.

Do we treat people who are in our lives for the long haul, as if they are truly in our lives for the big picture result? Or are our petty vindications and emotional reactions sending a different message? Is my spouse my lifelong partner, my love, my future, my completion? Or someone I am tolerating (at least for the time being)?

What does a garbage bin that needs to be emptied look like, when it’s seen in the big picture of a 75-year-long marriage? I think it will look a lot bigger on some canvases than others. How much room would you want that taking up on your canvas?

In times of not enough sleep, too much work, or whatever other reason you could use to excuse your behavior, let’s not forget tomorrow’s big picture that’s being painted with these little moments today.