To Squash and Kibosh Bad Driving

“With great power comes great responsibility.” – Uncle Ben, Spider-Man

The above quote rings true for both superheroes and drivers alike. Anytime you get behind the wheel of an automobile and turn the ignition, you become instantly responsible for the safety and lives of others, including yourself. You must anticipate everything: cars backing out of driveways, children playing in the street, pedestrians wearing dark clothes at night, construction detours, jaywalkers, animals crossing the road, bad weather, cyclists riding alongside you, etc.

Driving is a privilege, not a right. Unfortunately, some drivers choose to ignore this great responsibility, believing they have the right to drive aggressively, carelessly, distracted, impaired, etc. Their behaviour on the road reminds me of Goofy in that old cartoon where he transforms from Dr. Jekyll into Mr. Hyde whenever he gets behind the wheel of his car.

Bad driving is a bad habit, and it’s always infuriating whenever drivers cut others off, steal parking spots, blare their horns, speed, tailgate, weave between lanes, cross solid lines, ignore stop signs, red lights, school zones, or railway crossings, refuse to yield the right of way, etc. This behaviour is extremely reckless, dangerous, irresponsible, and even criminal.

I have no respect for motorists who jeopardise and disregard the lives and safety of others because they selfishly believe that traffic laws and the rules of the road don’t apply to them. Did they get their license from the bottom of a Cracker Jack box? Do they even have a license? Did they ever bother learning how to drive? Why are they so reckless and impatient? Are they really in such a hurry to get to the great beyond? The answer to all the above: they shouldn’t be on the road.

To be fair, there are plenty of cyclists, skateboarders, rollerbladers, and pedestrians in the world who also engage in reckless, dangerous, and irresponsible behaviour, so all parties share the great responsibility of practicing safety, whichever mode of transportation they choose. However, motorists are still the ones who cause the most damage in an accident, so they must be extra vigilant.

It really sucks whenever you turn on the news and learn that a careless, distracted, or impaired driver not only killed themselves but also wiped out an entire family in the fatal collision they caused. It sucks even more when you turn on the news and learn that a careless, distracted, or impaired driver wiped out an entire family yet walked away unscathed from the fatal collision they caused. Why must innocent people lay dead on slabs in the morgue, while the motorists who put them there get to live full lives? Where’s the justice for the deceased and their families?

As you can probably tell, bad drivers really push my buttons. I think it’s largely because everybody knows somebody who’s a victim of their recklessness. I suffered whiplash as a kid. I have a family member who was rear-ended and T-boned, getting injured on both occasions. My family and I have tragically lost both a family friend and a family member in two separate unsolved hit-and-run fatalities. Again, where’s the justice for the deceased and their families?

I once vented on social media about a careless driver who stopped in the middle of a crossing at a dangerous intersection, forcing pedestrians like me to step outside the white lines to get by. I was told by one reader to “take a chill pill” and that my “assumption of bad intent is just wrong”. We must look at the stats on pedestrian fatalities to see just how many deaths and injuries occur at the wheels of such drivers. There is a reason why the government gives drivers a “license”. As I pointed out earlier, driving is a privilege, not a right. When it comes to knowing my rights as a pedestrian, I’m cool. No “chill pill” needed. Before you defend bad behaviour or prescribe “chill pills”, make sure you have all the facts first.

All this bad driving in the world has been getting under my skin for a long time. As both a pedestrian and a cyclist, I obey all traffic laws and follow the rules of the road, so I expect others to do the same. I walk often for recreation, and constantly see cars going through red lights and stop signs. I once pressed the button at a high school crossing and a car sped through the flashing lights to avoid stopping. Unbelievable.

However, the worst experience I had at the wheels of a reckless driver occurred last autumn. A family member was visiting from Toronto, and we went on a nice long walk throughout our small city’s trail system. After exiting the park and having lunch at a restaurant, we began walking home. All was well for several blocks, until we found ourselves waiting on a street corner for the traffic lights to turn green. When the lights changed, we began crossing…

Suddenly and without warning, we were nearly hit by a car that first cut us off trying to run a red light, slammed on the breaks in the middle of the crossing, and then almost backed into my family member. I snapped a photo of the car’s license plate, though it was from out of province, so I doubt there’s much we can do with it.

That’s another problem. The police never seem to be around when these incidents occur. I’m not blaming the constabulary. I understand they must respond to all sorts of crimes and can’t be everywhere at once. Still, I’d love to see a reckless driver get pulled over by an officer and held accountable for their actions.

Unfortunately, it seems the motorists who receive the most tickets are those who forget to put more coins in the parking metre or park in a space outside the designated hours. Unless the vehicle in question is blocking a fire hydrant, ambulance zone, and so forth, I feel parking infractions should become secondary to saving lives from bad drivers.

I really hope our elected officials start brainstorming some solutions to this serious issue. The various levels of government need to work together and draft more accountability for motorists who engage in bad driving. To be fair again, I know driving is tough and even the best drivers make mistakes, but some mistakes can kill. It’s been a few months since I last encountered a bad driver, but I’m even more cautious.

My suggestion to both police and politicians alike would be to consider deputizing crossing guards to hand out tickets for traffic violations that occur within school zones or install speed cameras at all major intersections. Maybe using traffic calming technology such as speed bumps, chicanes, radar signs, bollards, or flexible delineators throughout residential neighbourhoods as well. Even if these suggestions are expensive, you can’t put a price tag on human lives.

So, what will it take to finally squash and kibosh bad driving? I strongly believe we need more accountability for motorists who drive impaired, recklessly, distracted, etc. I wish there was something more I could do other than writing a blog post about it, but I have no power to change the status quo. Hopefully, various words of concern like mine will someday reach those high enough to make some positive change in the world. May we never forget all the poor souls who lose their lives at the wheels of bad drivers. Vayan con Dios, amigos.

These images speak for themselves.

Dispelling Autism Myths: My Autistic Quest for the Romantic Holy Grail

“The power of love is a curious thing. Make a one man weep, make another man sing.” – The Power of Love, Back to the Future

“And can you feel the love tonight? How it’s laid to rest? It’s enough to make kings and vagabonds believe the very best.” – Can You Feel the Love Tonight, The Lion King

The Holy Grail, the eucharistic cup of Christ that Arthur and his knights scoured the countryside in search of. By extension, the “Holy Grail” could refer to any object or endeavor that is difficult to obtain. Even the pursuit of romantic love. Since it’s Valentine’s Day, I thought I’d dispel a common myth about people on the autism spectrum: that we neither seek nor want romantic relationships or human companionship in general.

While this may be true for some individuals on the spectrum, the same could be said for other people as well. After all, those of us on the spectrum are just as diverse as anybody else. From my high school days to the present, I’ve known plenty of autistic folks who found romantic love. Each person on the spectrum is unique, so the following anecdotes on my quest for the romantic Holy Grail are based solely on my personal experiences.

I’ve observed that finding romantic love is akin to winning the jackpot at a casino: Lady Luck must deal you a good hand. Meet somebody single and of the same orientation you mesh with and are attracted to. This person must also reciprocate your feelings. Then, one of you must ask the other one out on a date. Hopefully, the date goes well, you both have chemistry, and your potential partner is a good match. If all criteria are met and the stars align, you may find romantic love.

Achieving all these variables could be challenging for anyone, but especially so when you have a learning disability that includes social anxiety and difficulty reading social cues. I’ve pursued the romantic Holy Grail since high school and came close to finding it a few times, but always missed the mark. However, it certainly wasn’t because I’m a “loner”, “antisocial”, or “incapable of forming human bonds”. I’m sick and tired of those labels.

Anyway, back to my story. I was attracted to a few girls in high school, but never worked up the courage to ask them out. Then, during my senior year, a girl asked me out. I was both surprised and elated. We made plans to see The Lord of the Rings together, but she stood me up outside the cinema after I’d bought the tickets. Not wanting to waste my money, I watched the film alone. The next day, she revealed she had a boyfriend and only asked me out to make him jealous following an argument. That really stung.

After my high school graduation, I tried my hand at Toronto’s clubbing scene with a couple of my buddies. I was about 19 or 20 at the time, so I was a bit braver back then. Unfortunately, I didn’t care for the experience, as the nightclubs were too loud, crowded, and crazy, while the drinks were super expensive. Also, the commute home was scary at that time of night, with so many sketchy characters out and about.

Over the years, whenever I met girls I meshed with and was attracted to, they usually already had boyfriends. If they were single, my difficulty reading social cues made it tricky to discern whether my feelings were reciprocated or not. In a few cases, I missed the body language indicating some girls’ mutual attraction, giving them the impression I wasn’t interested. Also, my fear of rejection was another hurdle that prevented me from asking girls out.

Now, there actually were a couple of girls who made their attraction known to me. It seemed like the stars had finally aligned…but it turned out to be a negative and scary experience. I finally had girls asking me out again, yet it was déjà vu, like that one time in high school, even worse. These were nightmare scenarios straight out of Fatal Attraction, minus the adultery, bodily harm, or boiled bunny. Two terrible and terrifying experiences that turned me off the idea of dating for quite awhile.

A few years after escaping from that horror movie, I met a girl at a party whom I worked up the courage to ask out. We went on a few dates, had dinner with my family, and I took her to expensive restaurants and bought her nice gifts. Things were going well…until she asked me to take her to the Canadian National Exhibition (CNE). As I was going to be out of town for a few days, I asked her if we could go when I got back. I never heard from her again. Like in high school, that really stung, and I needed another break from the pursuit of love.

When I finally felt ready to “put myself out there” again, I turned my attention to a free dating site, as I believed doing so would eliminate some of my autistic hurdles. I had some promising written conversations, but my social anxiety prevented me from talking via webcam, which in turn caused these prospects to fizzle out without materializing into dates. Still, I kept at it on the free dating site for a couple of years in the hope that romance might materialize.

Then, around the same time I got assaulted at a Toronto subway station, a girl who was new to the city sent me a message and we began writing back and forth. We meshed well and there seemed to be chemistry and the potential for a relationship. I’m always honest, so I told her upfront of my autism and social anxieties, and that I wasn’t quite ready to meet in person given my recent assault. She was totally fine with all this.

We wrote to each other for a couple of months and eventually went on a fun date exploring TO together. It went well, though I was still suffering PTSD from the assault, so I really wasn’t in the right headspace for dating and never got around to scheduling a second date. She ended up moving back to her province shortly after, though we remain friends.

As of writing, that was the last time I actively pursued the romantic Holy Grail. I’m glad it was a positive experience at a difficult time in my life that led to a new friendship. Despite my failed attempts at finding a girlfriend, I’m neither bitter nor regretful. Rather, I’m at peace and just focusing on being happy with myself, single or not. Also, if the toxicity oozing from 90 Day Fiancé has taught me anything, it’s that sometimes, single is better, hahaha.

I accept the social challenges that come with life on the spectrum and acknowledge I tried my best despite these hurdles. I take inspiration from my autistic brothers and sisters who found the romantic Holy Grail. They inspire me, especially in a world where we’re often told by society that we’re “incapable of love”. Bullshit.

Love must happen naturally. Even the late great Robin Williams’ Genie from Disney’s Aladdin couldn’t grant the wish of having people fall in love with each other. I still believe in true love and that there is indeed a Ms. Right for me somewhere out there (♪ beneath the pale moonlight ♫). After all, true love runs in my family across generations. I figure, I’ll find the romantic Holy Grail when God feels the time is right for me. “Qué será, será”, and such.

So, I hope I dispelled the myth that autistic people aren’t interested in romantic relationships or human companionship. It certainly wasn’t for a lack of wanting or trying on my part. To those of you with that special someone in your life, I wish you a very Happy Valentine’s Day. And, to those single folks like me, I wish you a very Happy Tuesday, hahaha. Love, peace, and chicken grease!

The romantic Holy Grail eludes me…for now.

Fear and Loathing in Toronto: What the Hell Happened to my Hometown?

“Living in the city, you know you have to survive.” – Living in the City, Sonic R

I’m deeply saddened and disturbed by the news reports of the current crimewave gripping the Toronto Transit Commission (TTC), Toronto’s public transit system. These incidents hit especially close to home, as I’m a born and raised Torontonian. While I now live in a small city, I was always a pedestrian and I also used both the TTC and Government of Ontario (GO) Transit, a commuter train and bus system.

In fact, one of my jobs for several years was to verify the delivery of free newspapers throughout the TTC’s subway stations. I loved this job. Unfortunately, my happiness came crashing down when I was assaulted on a subway platform one beautiful summer morning. I suffered from this ordeal and was on sick leave for several months. During that period, the department I worked for was shut down and I was subsequently laid off. This was around the time that Toronto was becoming increasingly more gentrified, overpopulated, expensive, and dangerous. This wasn’t always the case, though.

Toronto in the ‘80s and ‘90s was a special place and time in the world. The city was cleaner, safer, more affordable, less congested, and had a funky vibe. There was a thriving artistic bohemian community near Queen and Spadina. You could see the CN Tower and Lake Ontario instead of just endless walls of high-rise condominiums. Downtown was chockfull of cool bookstores and record shops. The malls had something for everyone instead of just high-end boutiques. Local landmarks such as the long-departed Sam the Record Man, World’s Biggest Bookstore, and Honest Ed’s drew in crowds of tourists. It was a magical place.

Over the years, my family and I watched Toronto’s slow and gradual transformation into its current form. We stuck it out in the big city until a few years ago, when the escalating crimewave could no longer be ignored. We started having close calls. I was at Yonge–Dundas Square a few hours before a fatal shooting. I obliviously walked down Yonge Street during the van attack. We drove along Danforth Avenue on the day of the mass shooting. By the grace of God, we always managed to get out of the wrong place at the right time.

I never thought I’d leave the hustle and bustle of the big city. Unfortunately, Toronto had become too crowded, dangerous, and expensive. With my assault on the subway and our close shaves, we no longer wanted to tempt fate. It was time for us to throw in the towel, pack up, and leave the big city for a small one. Change is never easy for those of us on the autism spectrum, so my willingness to leave the only home I’d ever known tells you something of the dire situation there. Thankfully, we left Toronto before the pandemic hit, again, by the grace of God.

While we may now feel safe in our new home, we still worry for all our friends and family we left behind. Toronto’s crime and gentrification have gotten much worse in the years since we left. It’s an interesting paradox: a city for the rich under siege by gangs, criminals, and murderers amid a global pandemic. A place where excessive wealth and extreme poverty collide with little to no middle-class in-between. Perhaps I’ll do a more in-depth deep dive on this topic later.

It feels like Toronto has become increasingly more dangerous over the past twenty years. It’s a place where a serial killer stalked the gay village. Where gunshots rang out at the Raptors’ victory parade. Where a woman was immolated on a bus by a psychopath. Where a homeless man was savagely stabbed to death by a gang of teenaged girls. Where TTC commuters are now getting randomly attacked and have become victims of crime during their daily commutes. Modern day Toronto now resembles Gotham City. All that’s missing is the Bat-Signal and Batman himself.

In closing, I mourn the city I once knew and loved. I worry for our friends and family still living there. But I’ll always remember the Toronto of my childhood and teenaged years with great fondness. I listened to a CBC radio show or podcast awhile back that summed up the nostalgia of the ‘90s perfectly: “the Berlin Wall was down, and the Twin Towers were still standing”. Man, how I wish I had a time machine to go back to that simpler and safer world. I’d stay there if I could.

What the hell happened to my beloved city?

My Autistic Perspective on Social Media

“Everyone fights for position. Everyone wants to be seen and heard.” – The Pigeon Lady, Home Alone 2: Lost in New York

Though the above quote is from a classic ‘90s flick released long before the birth of social media, it sums up the online experience perfectly. Success on social media may be determined by the number of friends, followers, viewers, likes, comments, and shares a person has. If you seek fortune and fame, you must please the algorithm gods. Lose their favour and you will be swiftly replaced by the next rising star. Everyone fights for position. Everyone wants to be seen and heard.

As someone on the autism spectrum, I have always struggled with social situations. As a kid and teenager, I had a small circle of friends, but lost touch after my high school graduation. I often thought of my old friends and wondered what they were up to. Then, my aunt and teenaged cousin illuminated the possibilities of social media to me. Like a sailor under the hypnotic spell of a mermaid, I was entranced.

Before long, I was in the game. It was marvelous…and weird, with people writing their posts in the third person and constantly offering me lonely brown cows from their virtual farms. After awhile, I began to learn the ins and outs of social media. Flashforward to the present, I still find social media puzzling. The following are my neurodivergent ruminations on the social media craze.

First off, I love being able to communicate from the safety and comfort of my computer or mobile devices. This relieves some of my stress and anxiety, giving me time to formulate my thoughts. I don’t have to worry about awkward situations, misunderstandings, or the embarrassment that comes with face-to-face interactions.

Similarly, I sometimes have difficulty reading social cues, like body language, tone of voice, or facial expressions. Therefore, I find emojis useful as they allow me to better communicate and help me understand others.

It’s also great being able to express support, agreement, solidarity, or humour with the literal press of a button…the “like” and “reaction” buttons. These buttons allow me to show others that I care and value their online presence. Likewise, whenever somebody presses these buttons on any of my posts or photos, it always brightens my day and makes me smile.

It’s 2023, and we still don’t drive flying cars, live in cities in the sky, or wear goofy futuristic clothes. However, Back to the Future Part II, Blade Runner, and The Jetsons did accurately predict one “future” invention: video calling. Video calling is especially beneficial in these pandemic times when people need human contact the most. Even I enjoy video chatting with my family and friends.

Social media can be a great outlet for people’s creativity. We on the spectrum are passionate about our hobbies and interests and love sharing them with others. I feel social media is a fantastic platform for us to come out of our shells and express ourselves. It may be tricky finding the right audience, as our passions may not appeal to everyone. But even if our posts are met with a chorus of chirping crickets rather than likes or reactions, I still feel it’s important to be true to ourselves and speak out. I also believe social media is a good platform for us to raise awareness of the daily challenges we face, like being bullied, getting stereotyped in media, or living with a mostly invisible disability.

While I have highlighted some positive aspects of social media, it’s not always sugar and spice. There is also a seedy underbelly to the medium. A dark space where predators lurk, bully or scam their prey, steal their lifesavings, trick them into sending out nude pics, or lure them down the rabbit hole of misinformation…all within their own homes. Just as Gollum hates and loves the Ring in J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings, I have a similar love-hate relationship with social media.

For starters, I despise all the insults hurled on social media towards those of us in the autistic or learning-disabled community. People using “autism” or “Asperger’s” as synonyms for “jerk”, “asshole”, or “know-it-all”, as well as offensive slurs like “retard”, “retarded”, “riding the short bus”, or “Assburgers”. People making derogatory jokes about the learning disabled, special education, special needs, or the Special Olympics. Are these people even aware of the pain they are causing? After all, we are not a synonym or a punch line. Slurs against any group are never acceptable. Words cut deep.

Next, why do I get so many bogus requests from impostors masquerading as my friends and family? What causes my friends and family to have their likenesses appropriated by these creeps? If you accidentally accept one of these fraudulent requests, what happens to your personal information? What is the motive of these charlatans? How do you know if a request from somebody you know is legit? What are the social networks doing about this problem?

Similarly, why do I get flooded with requests from random bodacious babes? I don’t have public accounts, I’m no influencer or celebrity, and I’m definitely not Bond or Hef. I’m also no fool. I realize these “requests” are most likely from scammers and catfish, but to what end? How do they find invisible folks? I wonder if the poor girls in these pictures are even aware that creeps have appropriated their likenesses for nefarious purposes? How many others are receiving these weird requests everyday? Again, what are the social networks doing about this problem?

Also, why do the algorithm gods feel the need to bombard us with spam? I don’t want all my devices chiming incessantly with notifications on every random thing that occurs while I’m offline. When I sign out, it means I want a break from social media. Likewise, I would prefer to see posts from people I know rather than spam. It sucks to miss people’s posts because of all the junk.

Then, there is the mystery of why some of my photos, videos, or albums randomly disappear for no reason. I have no clue what happens to these missing uploads from yesteryear. I once reported this issue to tech support and had some of my lost media restored, though they have since crossed over into the ethereal plane once again. I still have some dead email links to people’s lost comments on my vanished posts. What can explain this bizarre phenomenon?

What is worse than seeing your posts cross over into the ethereal plane? Seeing them cross over into a thief’s profile without consent, credit, or even a like on what they stole. I have had quite a few of my photos and posts plagiarized. I take great pride in my work, and it hurts when others download it and pass it off as their own. Having gone through this a few times, I know exactly how Homer felt in the Flaming Moe’s episode of The Simpsons, and it sucks! If you want likes, what is wrong with earning them yourself with your own words, photos, and creativity?

For the record, I would be flattered and willing to allow my posts to be redistributed throughout social media if one first likes them, asks my permission, and/or credits me. Alternatively, one could simply press the “share” button. If you appreciate the art, then show that you also appreciate the artist. I thank and salute those individuals that have done so.

Another unfortunate social media experience is when you accidentally let foxes into your henhouse. I once had a friend who grew bitter and resentful when I couldn’t visit. Despite my apologies, this wolf in sheep’s clothing stripped out of the faux wool, transformed from Jekyll into Hyde, and began, publicly and privately, bullying, insulting, and harassing me on social media. When this person attacked my friends, I finally hit the “delete” button. Still, like a vengeful ghost, this cyberbully continued haunting me with abusive private messages for years. Also, a former co-worker turned out to be a religious fanatic and went after me over political disagreements. Why is it so easy for bullies to target people on social media? What a nightmare.

Speaking of nightmares, I think it’s creepy as hell that social media can eavesdrop on conversations and read minds even when offline and away from all devices. I feel I’m stuck in a horror movie. It’s unnerving to know your walls do in fact have ears and terrifying to ponder how much of our personal information involuntarily winds up online. What is it being used for, and by whom?

Another downside of social media is the angry crowd who are always looking to fight, attack, delete, cancel, or preach to anyone whose views differ from their own. I have seen people from all schools of thought engage in this childish behaviour. I believe people can hold and respectfully share different perspectives while remaining friends. There are plenty of people on social media I like and get along well with despite our different opinions. Debate is healthy and everyone is entitled to their beliefs. Life is too short to bicker. Live and let live. Love, peace, and chicken grease.

There are also the contradictions of the social networks. They will ban photos of artistic nudity while allowing unsavoury characters to spew vitriol to their heart’s content. Is art worse than hate speech?

Now, we come to the perplexing behaviour of people on social media, which just leaves me scratching my head. Why do some friends or relatives delete my friend and follow requests? I find this confusing, and it throws me for a loop.

Another social media oddity are the folks who engage in careless behavior, such as publicly airing their grievances towards others (like Frank Costanza during Festivus) or sharing media of their drunken escapades, and so on. Before posting anything, take a step back and think it over. Is this something that can get you fired or provide ammunition for your adversaries or anyone who may wish you harm?

Movin’ right along (♪ footloose and fancy-free! ♫), why are posts restricted to such a tiny number of characters? Why upload media that self-destructs? Why are there so many Tetris knockoffs (♪ and songs about rainbows ♫)? Why do online celebrities and influencers repeatedly ask you to follow them at the end of their videos?

Then, there are all the weird rituals and bizarre customs. Crowds in wacky outfits dancing wildly to snippets of a song. Fundraisers dumping buckets of ice water over their heads. Machos swallowing everything from cinnamon and soda crackers to ghost peppers and laundry detergent. Pedestrians obliviously following Pokémon anywhere from churches and memorials to railway tracks and cliff edges. People snapping mirror selfies. Daredevils attempting everyday tasks while blindfolded, including driving automobiles. I don’t get it, especially the dangerous stuff. If all this is a sacrifice to the algorithm gods, then the gods must be crazy.

In closing, social media isn’t black and white but shades of grey. Sometimes, I’m tempted to terminate my accounts, but then I would lose contact with all the wonderful people I have reconnected with. It’s a Catch-22. I could get out of this pickle by asking all my old friends, relatives, co-workers, and acquaintances for their contact information, but this proposition is uncomfortable for me. Social media wins. It always wins. Like a sailor, I have been ensnared by the mermaid and pulled below the foamy waves of the sea.

Social media; as alluring as a mermaid and as dangerous as the sea.

(Stratton, Helen, illustrator. The Little Mermaid. By Hans Christian Andersen. Philadelphia: Lippincott, 1899.)

Let There Be Light: My Look Back on the 10th-Anniversary of the Northeast Blackout of 2003

“No antenna. No radio. We’re back in the 19^th Century!” – Captain Billy Tyne, The Perfect Storm

 

Today marks the 10^th-anniversary of the Northeast blackout of 2003, a moment in history that I shall never forget. I remember every last detail as if it happened yesterday: I’d finished attending a job workshop at an employment agency over on Donlands, and was planning to take the subway downtown later that afternoon to hang out at the Eaton Centre, but first I wanted to head home to drop off my papers and work on an email to a girl I’d met at the employment agency and hoped to possibly date. I’d just put the finishing touches on my email and was about to click the “send” button when the power abruptly went out.

 

I didn’t think much of it at the time (aside from being a little peeved over losing the aforementioned email to said girl I liked), until I stepped outside and spoke with a crowd of neighbours gathered on the street who mentioned that the power outage was citywide and all of the traffic lights, streetcars, and subways were supposedly down. That revelation made me worried for my grandma, as it was hot out and I’d heard that summer blackouts were really bad for seniors. Since I couldn’t phone my grandma to check on her, I decided to walk from our house in the Coxwell & Danforth neighbourhood to her apartment building in Cabbagetown.

 

Along the way, I saw pedestrians of all walks of life directing traffic across the Danforth, and spoke to various passers-by who mentioned that the blackout was occurring across the province and even in some parts of the United States. I’d been told scary rumours that terrorists had allegedly bombed a skyscraper in New York City, and hated being unable to confirm anything that was going on around us. When I reached Broadview, I saw the broken-down streetcars I’d heard about earlier, sitting empty and abandoned, and cut through the valley of Riverdale Park into Cabbagetown. A few minutes later, I stood in the entrance of my grandma’s building buzzing her apartment, and to my relief, she was fine and with my uncle.

 

I had dinner with my grandma and uncle before beginning my long evening trek home, finding a $10.00 bill along the cobblestone portion of Carlton at the edge of Riverdale Park. When I arrived back at the house ($10.00 richer than when I’d departed), my parents were there waiting and furious with me for not leaving them a note, as they didn’t know where the hell I was and had no way of reaching me. Like the millions of other people affected by the blackout, they had to walk home from their jobs downtown. We had to light candles throughout the house like our ancestors before us, open the windows for cool air, and avoid touching the fridge. We still had no way of confirming what was going on, despite the rest of the world knowing what was happening to us.

 

As there was nothing we could really do aside from sit in the dark and wait for the power to eventually be restored, we sat outside with the neighbours and looked up into a beautiful night sky full of stars (probably how Van Gogh saw it while painting), courtesy of the complete lack of light pollution. The next day, we were fortunate enough to have our power restored but had to use it sparingly. We saw the online night shots of the Toronto and New York City skylines silhouetted in black, were relieved to learn that the blackout wasn’t the result of terrorists, and got to let our relatives in Venezuela know we were okay. Before that blackout dimmed the lights of Toronto, I never gave much thought to random power failures, but now I get nervous whenever they occur.

 

In closing, the blackout taught me two very important lessons: 1.) Like the characters in WALL-E, we humans rely too heavily on technology these days, and are pretty well screwed should that heavy basket of eggs ever drop. Folks in the Victorian era knew how to function without electricity, and we should learn how to do so as well for our own benefit. 2.) Electricity should always be conserved and any lights or gadgets not in use should be switched off (if you don’t need the power, make it an Earth Hour). Instead of maxing out the air conditioning at home, consider cooling off at a shopping mall, movie theatre, your local swimming pool, or the beach. After all, those who fail to learn from history are doomed to repeat it, and I certainly never want a repeat of August 14^th, 2003.

Lights Out.

My Bullying Story

I’m very touched that a minute of silence was dedicated to all victims of bullying today. The outpouring of support for bullying victims in the aftermath of Amanda Todd’s passing has actually inspired me to open up publicly for the first time and share my own story.

While my elementary school days were wonderful and filled with good friends and fond memories, middle school was the polar opposite and a total nightmare for me, 1998 in particular being the worst year of my life. I was severely bullied at the age of fourteen, both physically and psychologically, and it wasn’t long before I lost all hope and attempted to take my life (the afterlife seemed a far better alternative to the pain I was constantly enduring on earth). I was fortunate enough to have one kind and very observant teacher named Mrs. Dean who intervened, and it’s thanks to her that I’m still here today.

The road to recovery was a slow and rough one, though. My parents were afraid to leave me unmonitored, I required lots of therapy and medication, and finished grade 8 through one-on-one tutoring because I was too terrified to be in a classroom setting again or around other teenagers (I received my middle school diploma in the mail). Bullying had left me the human equivalent of an abused dog trembling with its tail between its legs. I couldn’t pass groups of teens anywhere without suffering extreme anxiety that they’d gang up to attack me, and began high school at Danforth Tech sitting behind a cubicle.

It’s very difficult to trust your fellow teens again after suffering such horrid cruelty at their hands, but my high school years were surprisingly good ones, and over the ninth grade I managed to emerge from my shell, regain faith in humanity, and make some very good friends there (I still remained guarded and skipped extra-curricular activities and my prom).

It’s true that the scars left behind from bullying are permanent, and I’ll never again be the same person I was before middle school. Bullying changes you forever, but what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, and my experiences in middle school shaped me into the man I am today. I’m no longer a victim but a survivor, scarred but not broken.

I think it’s very important for my fellow bullying survivors to speak up and raise awareness to what we went through. It wasn’t easy for me to reveal such painful moments from my life just now and I honestly never thought I’d do so, but it’s important that we all band together to put an end to bullying once and for all, and who better to lead the charge than those who’ve personally gone through it and know what it feels like?

Many of you are parents to young children, and I want to see them grow up in a world where they’ll never have to experience what I went through. We need to educate all students on the seriousness of bullying (the crumpled paper experiment is a fine example) and form harsher punishments for bullies such as criminal charges that will make it crystal clear to them that such behaviour won’t be tolerated.

I don’t say all of these things for sympathy, to be an “armchair activist”, or to gain a bunch of likes, I say them because bullying and suicide awareness and prevention are the two causes that are closest to my heart and I don’t want to see anybody else suffer the same fate as poor Amanda Todd and countless other kids around the world. I want these children and teenagers to know that they’re not alone and are loved, and that suicide isn’t their only option even if it feels like it in their darkest hour (I thought the same way at the time). There is support and hope out there, and we need to make that clear to them. Sorry for the length of this post, and thank you for reading.

My Thoughts on the Summer of the Gun

“I say all the time that every moment we have to live our life is a blessing. So often I have found myself taking it for granted. Every hug from a family member. Every laugh we share with friends. Even the times of solitude are all blessings. Every second of every day is a gift. After Saturday evening, I know I truly understand how blessed I am for each second I am given.” - Jessica Ghawi

Foreword: I haven’t updated this blog of mine in over seven months, as the theme behind it is ranting about topics that irk me and I just hadn’t found much to seriously gripe about over the past year. I did find a couple of topics that I’d planned to rant over for my big comeback, but they’ll be taking a backseat for now as I share my personal and heartfelt feelings on a very important matter (I was partially inspired by the young woman quoted above from a similar blog post she wrote following her recent near-death experience in a Toronto shopping mall. Unfortunately, she and many others are no longer with us, hence the topic of my following post).

When the pioneering silent film The Great Train Robbery was released in theatres back in 1903, the iconic final shot of the outlaws’ leader (played by Justus D. Barnes) pointing and firing his gun at the camera reportedly caused moviegoers to scream and duck behind their seats, such was the magic of a then fairly new medium known as the movies. Who would’ve ever thought that 109 years later, life would tragically imitate art in a Colorado cinema packed with Batman fans of all ages eagerly awaiting the midnight premiere of The Dark Knight Rises?

Admittedly, I’ve been feeling pretty shitty these last few weeks over the mass shootings that have occurred in such close proximity to each other this summer. Being from Toronto, I was already reeling pretty badly from the two public shooting incidents that occurred here before the big one in that packed Aurora, Colorado movie theatre completely shattered me emotionally. I didn’t know any of the victims of these heinous and senseless murders, but their deaths have affected me deeply nonetheless.

In all three cases, these were just ordinary men, women, and children out enjoying the summer and life in general. There’s so much darkness and evil in the world that people should have the right to at least put it all aside for a bit and enjoy themselves without fear of being gunned down. What makes random murders like these so scary is the fact that any one of us could’ve easily been among the victims, so I take great offence at any attempts to poke humour over something so gravely serious (sadly, I’ve already seen a few Batman-related “too soon?” jokes posted online, and needless to say I’m NOT laughing).

Maybe it’s because I’m often out in the open riding the subway throughout the city, or because I regularly visit shopping malls at least once a week, or on account that I enjoy watching movies on the big screen and have been to many huge opening night showings over the years. Whatever the reason, I feel our rights as human beings to go out and enjoy life have been completely violated this summer and think that mass murders such as these are no laughing matter.

I’m a spiritual man and a firm believer in God and the afterlife, but I strongly feel that we should all be allowed to live long happy lives here on earth and achieve whatever it is we were meant to without the thread of our lives being tragically cut short so senselessly. When I started the Ranting Zone last December, I never imagined that any of my future posts would be as serious and sombre as the one you’re reading now, but I just had to get these thoughts off my chest.

I will be “moving on” and returning to more light-hearted fair shortly (I won’t let the gunmen behind these three vile acts break my spirit), but will always keep the victims of the summer 2012 shootings in my thoughts and prayers. I hope we’ll never forget these tragedies and will work hard to create stricter gun laws and harsher punishments for anyone who carries out such crimes.

Life is a precious gift, so appreciate it and make every last second count. Put nothing off that you wish to do or accomplish, even if others attempt to ridicule or discourage you from doing so. Find something to believe in that will inspire and motivate you throughout life, since it could be quite empty otherwise. Spend as much time with your family as you do with your friends, for blood is thicker than water. Tell your relatives, significant others, and children that you love them everyday, as tomorrow isn’t guaranteed. Be cautious while out in public, but still go forth and enjoy the rest of your summer; eat in food courts, attend block parties, and go to the movies. If you want to watch The Dark Knight Rises, then do so and have a great time. Thank you for reading, and God bless.

May violent scenes such as this famous climactic one from The Great Train Robbery remain strictly in the movies.