For Jenny – 3.0 – Golden Time

I am going to share a story about me that no one who has met me in high school or later knows.

I have already explained that my first church experience was because of Elvis- I wanted to experience something similar – as similar as it could be in the 1970s in Canada – so when the Southern Baptist Church opened their doors down the street from my school and sent people to stand by the school with colour paper to lure the children with promises of prizes……….or like it was some kind of nightclub to be promoted by street callers or urchins…

I mean – you can see why in a brain that is as fast and scalable – hummingbird like in it’s ability to – do what hummingbirds do …..

And I explained that my second church experience was because my Mom thought I was interested in Church and the Southern Baptist Church was racist – so I wasn’t allowed to go back – and I really enjoyed the high theatrics of that church – so I was willing to try another one.

My Mom – she had waited so long for this day – because my Mom was religious – not church religious but within the Christian ideal of believer – but my parents agreed – no teaching religion until the kids ask to be taught.

And it made me crazy for years – not knowing – and having to guess what religion or philosophy my parents are – and to this day – I cannot say that I really know the answer – because they are very different in many ways – and every same in others.

In fact – I told my family yesterday that I was going to start doing videos on my blog and Mom is coming over tomorrow to give me a haircut – agoraphobia has some advantages – and my Mom took a hair cutting course decades ago – when I was little – so to me – a haircut from my Mom is quality time.

We might even bake some of Gramma’s Oatmeal Cookies first. Not sure what tomorrow will bring. Because I still have to write the Pilot for my TV show – which I am going to start mentioning – because – as I said – I started this blog as a project – and I took a course called Flash Forward by Suzanne Lyons  – and if you don’t want to google her – you can find her:

and be just as inspired by her as I am because I told her this year – that when i saw her in 1996 – when she and another speaker – from New York – came and taught women in film about how to move your entertainment industry career to the next level – that she was everything that I wanted to be –

The Canadian Sidekick to a Brooklyn Jew

And Suzanne laughed – just a chuckle – and she had no idea – how hard that I was holding that phone to my ear – because – with all respect to Elvis and his amazing stage performance, his liquid voice that reaches inside of you and those eyes and lips and everything Elvis – because – hey – I have just as much a chance with Elvis as any girl in the 1950’s had – so I have never understood why people though it so odd that I would swoon over Elvis – as a child in the 1970’s and then for the rest of my life – because – Elvis is probably the most photographed and filmed person – and those images will never change and his truest legacy – his recorded work – especially the Sun Records and those singles from 1956 – they will never die – and now that they are public domain in most of the world – Elvis’ legacy is already being refurbished and repacked and being sold to a whole new generation.

Anyways – as I said – kd lang is the closest that Canada has gotten to an Elvis of our own – but to me – Suzanne Lyons is Elvis.

Because Flash Forward is not about following rules, it’s about project management and the Project is You and your only goal is to take – not make it and not fake it – to the next level.

Elvis took the whole world to another level & Suzanne Lyons teaches people how to take their careers to the next level.

But I was feeling really – depressed – about life last year – and I was surfing the internet to try to figure out how people who claim to beleive in a religion or philosophy of love could have treated me the way that they did.

And I saw Jenny’s blog – and we exchanged a book and we continue to exchange irregular emails.

And I did not finish the book Jenny sent me – but Jenny stopped blogging because – her readers turned on her – and begged her to stop – because they could see – well – you’ll just have to go to Jenny’s blog and read for yourself.

And Jenny – here’s what I never told you – Christianity in Canada is different than Christianity in America.

The first church that I went to – to find Elvis – it delivered Elvis and my Mom said – that church was racist – and I knew even as a child in the 1970’s that Elvis wasn’t racist – so it made sense to my child’s mind – why Elvis never went back to Church and in my mind – it was not because he was famous or a rock n roll star – it was because Elvis also went to two Churches – he went to white churches and he went to Black Churches – and he saw a wide range of what we call country singers now – but country music used to be very regionally and diverse – Nashville made country bottleneck into Pop music and the joy of life is gone from country music – it’s so grim and republican now – which makes little sense to me – given that the best country music – was when the south was Democratic.

And Hillbilly, Bluegrass, Blues, Swing, Rhythm all blended and bended into each other – giving rise to Rockabilly and eventually Rock n Roll – Elvis – before Elvis – there was a lot of music – but After Elvis – when everyone tried to copy him – seriously, not so much music after – Elvis acted as a sort of global bottleneck in the music – and people are discounting him now – because they are finally digging deep and seeing how rich and varied music was before – when it is so percussive and techo dance – that it’s all collapsed again –

Diversity People – its all about diversity –

But the second church that I went to – well – that was a Canadian Church.

And I went to that church for about 3 years – from 9 to 12 years of age – by my choice – and I never told anyone – why I went.

It wasn’t for the service – and I stayed as long as I did – because in church – I was one of the very few girls who was willing to act in plays and sing in front of the congregation.

Now in school, I was the tallest girl – so I didn’t get picked for the lead girl rolls because I was taller than all the boys – but in Church – I was the only girl who was game to play – and I got to play all the girls – and there are not many girl parts in church plays – so that I was taller than all the boys – really made me – blonde and from the audience – blue eyed – angelic – and if I couldn’t sing purdy, I sung loud to make up for it – volume and emotion over precision and grace.

But as I said – it was a Presbyterian audience – silent and dour – so I learned precision and grace.

And while I have talked a bit about my family – there is one figure, one role model who is absent in my family village – the Grandfather.

You see – I had three – one on my Dad’s side and one plus a Step-Grandfather on my Mom’s side.

My Step-Grandfather was as close to a Grandfather as I got – so when I went to Knox Presbyterian Church in New Westminster – where – as of 6 years ago – that table with my name on it is still in the downstairs round meeting room –

the Reverend Dr Bell – who lead said congregation – was my ideal grandpa –  So Dr Bell – he knew he talked to when he looked out at that dour crowd and he knew how to make people chuckle and smile and shift a little in their seats.

And I paid attention to how he told stories that moved that silent audience.

And I –  I knew who my competition for his attention was: his 2 grandsons – who sat in the middle of the first pew and paid respectful attention to him.

So I sat in the first pew on the left side of the church in the first place on the aisle seat – right in front of the pulpit.

I quite naturally sat in school with my hands folded on my desk and I saw how his grandsons sat – hands folded in their laps – and without a desk, my hands naturally fell to my lap.

So I would stare adoringly at my Ideal Grandpa who was a gifted and eloquent story teller – with the same capacity for grace as Dr Gregory A Boy – the son who wrote Letters from a Skeptic – that Jenny sent to me last November.

And when I read – the passages about love – I was transported backwards in time – to long forgotten memories – of the Reverend Dr. Bell – who was my ideal grandpa.

Now – Dr Bell – he knew how to read and work an audience – anyone who performs in front of people – be it a church or from a stage or just roaming around the workplace or out on the playground – and he knew that he could talk to his 2 grandsons anytime – but I did not come to church with my parents – sometimes my Mom would attend, but mostly she did not.

So, as far as Dr Bell knew – the hour I spent gazing adoringly at him – as only a blonde blue eyed girl can – he knew that he only had one hour a week to teach me anything – and he knew when I paid attention most of the times – because I spent most of my time – looking adoringly at him when he told me how to be a good girl and when he told funny stories – that often – were simple country stories out of his life in Saskatchewan – not bible stories – but told to illustrate the bible stories and to show how you could apply the lessons – not the words or specific stories – in real life situations.

Now, Reverend Dr. Bell had no idea that he was my ideal grandpa or that my Mom’s family came from Saskatchewan – sort of Canada’s Kansas – wheat belt prairie – but every elderly person that talked to me at church knew how much I loved listening to any story they wanted to tell me about their lives – something their own grandchildren were bored or tired or resistant to listening to.

So when Reverend Dr Bell decided to do something to bring some liveliness into the church service – he asked for children willing to form a junior choir.

And that dour audience – a small church in New Westminster in the 1970 – watched us on the stage:

Me and the Older Grandson

My Younger Sister and Younger Grandson

In a pair set – and the boys had brown hair and eyes and me and my sister were blonde and blue eyed (appearing, our eyes are in fact, grey)

So when all those elderly gentlemen and ladies – and from my experience and memories of church – the whole congration was gentlemen and ladies – people dressed up for church and sat quiety and paid attention.

I think it wasn’t until my third year that Reverend Dr Bell got a microphone.

So they watched the four of us on stage and I am sure they were imagining the generation after us being some later edition of the junior choir.

So we sang our hearts out – because very few children can sit sit for an hour – but i came from a family of people who paced and solved complex problems by thinking about them – so I am a natural meditator.

And Rev Dr Bell – was my teacher – and when he handed the morning over to the Junior Choir – he became the most important person in the room – to me – because everyone was now watching us children and indulging us our singing and smiling and nodding or hummed along.

And I knew that Rev. Dr Bell could get people to laugh – so I knew – that they were all capable of laughter – so I don’t know how they resisted the charming site of me and my three back up singers – well, that’s how I saw the junior choir.

So while they didn’t clap – they smiled and nodded and watched us with adoration and indulgence – and to me – Rev Dr. Bell had handed over his stage to me – so he wasn’t my teacher anymore – he was my mentor – and my competition for the same audience and I was determined to win over that audience.

And then – a Christmas miracle happened – in 1979.

You know that big moment in Sister Act – when they perform for the Pope?

Well – the Christmas Miracle in 1979 – was that after almost 2 years of junior choir – someone brought a family member or friend who was from out of town.

So the 4 of us – sang our hearts out and I did my Little Heart and Soul Act – on the step above my litter sister and beside the Preacher’s Grandsons – and the audience was smiling and nodding, bobbing their head and tapping their fingers along – and the song ended – and there was the usual silence.

Then, the miracle happened – from the back row – someone, some stranger, clapped – once, medium firmness at an average volume – and then there was a half clap and then more half claps and then full clapping and finally – applause.

And this is what the miracle was – right in front of everyone’s eyes – I stood – shock still in astonishment and in humble gratitude – and I guess all those adults – had never seen a child – be shocked into stillness because – in my mind – the applause got louder after that – and the three other members of the choir were bowing and being pleased and surprised by the attention – but I was dumbfounded – I did not think that they had that much applause in them.

It was an amazed moment of clarity in my young life.

I mean, I knew that I was good – church was only one of my audiences, after all – but I didn’t know I was dour to joyous good.

Well –before anyone starts to get too nervous and thinking that I might be a Christian – I have to pour some cold water on those sparks.

I didn’t believe in anything the church taught – I went once a week for my grandpa fix – because the stories that I learned in church were inconsistent with the history that I learned in school. More than that, I knew at home that church was one thing and a person’s religion another – and church is church and school is where you learn about the world – history – the story of humanity, which includes many things – and knowing history as I do – I know what role religion has played in the story of humanity – and it’s not a loving story – it’s the bloodiest story of all the stories possible to tell.

Because people who are guessing only feel good about what they think if they can convince other people to back their version or story up – Religion os the schoolyard code for grownups.

I went to look at the stained glass windows and what a different story they seemed to tell when the sun shone through or didn’t because of clouds and when the rain came down and made it look like everyone was crying.

And Rev Dr Bell would see me stare adoringly at him and he would talk to me while everyone else thought he was talking to the room – and he would see me – siting calmly and starting in deep contemplation at the windows – and he would smile and talk to the congretation – because he thought he knew what a good girl that I was.

And all the while – I was happy to stare adoringly at my ideal grandpa telling me stories about his life and reminding me to be the best little girl that I could be and when I got bored with whatever story he told next – I would stare at the windows and let my mind wander to other things.

I thought about church and I thought about school and I thought about Elvis.

And I realized why that Southern Baptist tradition of hell fire and jumping around and hollering came from – hot small stuffy windowless shotgun tiny churches – with all those people crammed together – without a breath of fresh air to cool the throat or the mind or the tongue down.

And it made sense to me – how people – crazy from heat and dehydration – would starting – well – having siezures and act up – and when one person starts – it’s not hard to see how fast everyone else will follow – because you have to go a little crazy to out compete the minister or preacher – who sets the tone for the whole congregation.

And I could see why people in earlier centuries went to large stone churches and Cathedrals – because stained glass windows – are basically the same as movie picture screens – but like a photograph – one image – but with the sun and the rain and the clouds – those stained glass windows – came to a kind of life – much like a movie is kind of reality – images and stories – that touch your heart and maybe make you think.

Now there was two reasons why I stopped going to church.

And the only one that I am going to share – is that when I was 12 – I was no longer considered a child so that was the end of Sunday School and Junior Choir – and I can only imagine how hurt and shocked the Reverend Dr Bell was – when I did not turn up again in that first seat right in front of his pulpit anymore.

But – he had to have known – because the last year that I went – it was easter and the clocks had changed and I can’t tell time on analog clocks anyway – so I arrived early – and they were preparing the bread and the – well – they gave us kids grapejuice and I don’t know if the adults had wine.

I arrived early because I was in a play after the service and I was so nervous that I showed up early because I hadn’t been in a easter play before and I was the only girl and I was going to have a good time with this play – and when I walked in and saw this big table covered up – and platters of bread cubes and small crystal shot glasses of purple liquid.

I stood at the back of the church looking at REv Dr Bell and some other adults scurrying around – and in a clear high voice – reminscient of my Dad’s Mom – vaguely disgusted at the confusing site – what’s with the buffet being covered up – people are starting to arrive and we have a show to do people, seriously,

So in my most haughty adult tone in my child’s voice booming through the empty church with the sunlight streaming through the stained glass windows – I roared

“What the hell is going on in here?”

but is was Canada and I was the angel of the play and the star of the junior choir and Rev. Dr. Bell directed the sermon in less than his usual fashion – with puzzled looks at me – probably wondering – how could I have sat in front of him for all that time – and not understood what easter was about

and I sat there, looking at him, wondering what he was talking about in the sermon that he was paying such close attention to me that I could not let my mind wander out the stained glass windows and what a drag it was to be inside on such a sunny day – especially when I knew – that at home – there was a warm television set and a basket of chocolate with my name on it.

For Jenny 2.0 – Because I still have difficulty communicating

Well, that first attempt to talk about Jenny and Christianity went really south into bullying and pedophilia.

But that’s the problem with religion today – it’s all rape and pilliage and delay, deny and disipline when caught – blaming the victims for identifying the problem.

After all – a bully pulpit is no different than a management position.


I am not sure – should I have saved that for my Shut-In Stand Up Blog?

For Jenny who I know is still experimenting with life

A while back – I did the book exchange with Jenny – on case no one from my blog ever went to Jenny’s Blog – I have something sad to show everyone.

I stumbled across Jenny’s blog last year, when I was feeling… let’s just say as a catch all – depressed. And I saw words that I had never seen before on Jenny’s blog “I have only read 3 books in my life.”

So I stopped to post on her blog and she responded and we struck up a conversation that lead to a Book Exchange – an Experiment in Religion.

And just to remind everyone – Jenny won the book exchange – I have still not finished the slender volume she sent me – but the book exchange really profoundly changed the both of us. And I am really worried about Jenny – because she stopped blogging about her experiment with religion – because when she got experimental – all her regular Christian readers – and probably people in her life – they freaked out and tried to stop her – and she has stopped blogging – but she is okay – because we have not stopped writing to each other.

So I am asking my readers – who are probably not Christians – to drop by Jenny’s blog and support her continued experiments with life.

Because I did not mean for Jenny’s blog to ever end and I am really sad that she has not been supported with her exploration of faith and spirituality and life.

And I did not mean to change her life as I have – it was after all, a random encounter on the internet – that lead to profound and life altering for Jenny and life affirming for me – personal revelations.

I was trying to reconcile in my mind how people who say that their religion is about love can hurt people. Because I had finally and truly and deeply been hurt by people that I saw only at work and I worked in the Federal Government of Canada.

So the people that I worked with – were the range of Canada – representative of the demographics of Vancouver BC – Lotusland as it’s known within Canada – The Gateway to the Pacific Rim.

Thus, when I say that I was bullied by people I work with – I can only guess what everyone who reads the blog thinks that I am referring to.

Because I was bullied by 65 people and I only filed complaints about 7 of them.

So, when I was – placed – on disability – the workplace bullying that most people encounter is usually not more than 7 people – and most people – I was terrified to discover from my research into work place bullying –


That most people do not recover from their school yard or work place bullying – and I do not want to diminish anyone’s pain and suffering – because it as as bad as anyone else’s in the sense that it is all consuming – obessively so.

But – Something that Jenny and I did not talk about – because, as I said – I am an atheist to Jenny’s religion.

Atheists do not accept claims for a deity or set of deities/demi beings – because there is no evidence possible for anything that leaves no evidence.

Without evidence, a trail of clear bread crumbs, you cannot make claims about everything being a crumb of evidence for a diety.

Everything is not evidence for Something Invisible – everything now is just the current version of earlier versions of the same thing – be it a population or a habitat or a social system or organization or movies and sequels or tv shows and rebooted tv shows – not unlike  – (or in American English) – kinda like – computer software version 1.0, 1.5, 2.0, 3.0. 3.5, 4.0 and so on and on and on and on….to infinity and beyond.

Now, before I was surfing the blogosphere – I played on many many public forms so I had an idea of what the religious/athiest – I’ll be generous here – conversation – is like between Americans.

And I am a computer geek – old school – I loved computers before the DOS operating system and I remember that QDOS stood for Quick n Dirty Operating System – and I know what the internet was like when it was just us hardcore geeks and how the internet changed when anyone could buy a computer and decide they were a Content Provider – social media ruined the internet.

The internet used to be a place where information was freely shared and now everyone wants to sell information and the only sites that can make money are the porn sites but with social media – who needs porn sites – when anyone can just surf Facebook and see all the Tits and Ass and Abs and bulges of underaged people or even more of drunken, passed out, partying or wasted or partied out people without risking having the police show up on your doorstep.

People sued to worry – was the internet making people into perverts?

No – all people are curious about other people – we are social animals – but in the olden days the sexual predators of children had to behave themselves and when they revealed too much of themselves – they got caught and what happened to them is what happened – after all – we all talk about Thinking of the Children – but none of us seem to actually like children.

I do not like children because I was never a child. I was never a teacher’s pet either – because that was not the relationship that I was having with the teacher – to the rest of the students – they were a teacher and to the smartest students, that teacher was a mentor – but to me – no matter how old I was – that teacher was my competition for the class’s attention – and the relationship that I had with each and every single teacher – depended on how said teacher treated me.

If they treated me like a child – they had competion.

If they treated me like an adult – they had a second teacher in the room with them who supported anything they wanted to do in that classroom – anytime they wanted to do something in the classroom.

Now – I don’t want anyone to get a false impression of anyone who has taught me anything – because – as I said – I know predators when I see them. I told one to go away when I was 5 and because of that – I was able to tell Clifford Olsen – the child killer self-named Beast of BC – that my Mom was coming to the store to find out what was taking me so long to get back home when she told me that I had only 20 minutes to run to the hobby shop and back home with my purchase.

And he got scared of a Mom who had so plainly laid down the law to this bright blonde and blue eyed girl – that despite her friendly smile and bold swaggering walk – was obedient to her Mother.

And Child Predators – the average child predator molests 250 children over the span of their – shall we say – careers – and that is the average – some molest far fewer and others molest many many more – 250 is the average – and I am telling you – that I know what I know and I am telling you the only part of what I know and not how I know – because I can’t tell you where I got that information – because I am not supposed to have that information – I read it in a report in a government office and someone had left it – in a lunchroom – and that report was classified.

If you have seen the movie Bridesmaid – there’s a character in that movie – who is a lot like me – except – I am a lesbian – and her character – was not a lesbian – she was a heterosexual woman how was acting exactly like a man.

Because seriously, lesbians are sheep – they wait around for someone else to make a move. So imagine – a bar full of lesbians – all waiting – for someone – anyone – to make a move. And if you are interested in flirting and what I learned from those sheep – head on over to LezFlirt

And I look at what people of all ages post and I think – wow –

That shit is never going to go away and all these people – who some day – will want jobs or a judge to think the better of them or voters or who know who you will be in the future and how what you do now when you’re young or just head strong –

I mean – if you want to have a future – you need to play it cool like this guy – he grew up and became the first hybrid president of the United States.

And America is so zero-sum – that they can’t see – he is the bridge – that connects both sides of America.


The Emperor Has No Clothes

It’s a story that people are familiar with – the cautionary tale – about the con artist tailors who bilked the Emperor of his money for nothing – and the Emperor was so desperate to justify his spending the treasury on himself – that he has a parade to show off his greatest and latest purchase.

And a child says The Emperor Has No Clothes.

And the emperor is embarrassed and the con artists are dealt with – but that’s the fairytale part – it’s not what happens in the real world.

I know – because I am the adult who was that child – the lone voice of reason in normal enough appearing world – but a world that is twisted and manipulated by adults who think that they are so clever that flattery will convince them of anything when it props up their vanity which is puffed up by their insecurity.

So I am a child – because when I asked my Dad or Mom – the eternal child question – Why? I was given answers.

I grew up in Canada – and I lost my civil rights in 1992 when I told the world, my decision that is my right to make. Who and who I do not have sex with – I declared – after watching the lot of you for a long while – that I was a lesbian.

Because I learned all about who the bad people and who the good people were by interacting with my peer group. Children – and I went to Sunday School – where I sang in the Junior Choir and I went to Elmentary School where I did sports and scholastics.

And, on the weekends, we would go as a family to Exhibition Park and watch Horseracing and we went home and I watched the Cowboy and Indian Matinee Movies on Television.

I told my Dad that I wanted to grow up and be a cowboy.

My Dad looked at me and said, you can’t be a cowboy like in the movies – those days are gone and that’s just a movie, not reality.

But…..grasping for straws – there’s still cowboys – people wear the hats….

Dad rolling his eyes – those are pretenders to the Throne.

Oh. Okay. Grudgingly convinced.

(notice by now, my Dad never said to me “You’re a Girl”)

Dad: Okay, there is a way you can be a cowboy, just ask your Uncle Morris – in Saskatchewan – and ask him if he will let you work on his farm.

Indignant – I don’t want to work on a farm.

Oh really? Then I guess you can’t be a cowboy because what that means today.

Really, okay, I didn’t want to be a cowboy anymore now that it was work.

And the 1970’s in Canada was kind of like the American 50’s – except that in Canada – it was a liberal 50’s – Consciousness raising, experimental schools, self directed learning – all the fancy stuff that Americans pay for in private schools – in public school – funded by taxpayers and available to everyone.

Besides, cowboys were kid stuff and when I was 7 – I discovered someone more exciting than Cowboys and he had a little blonde daughter who was my age and I was convinced that if I could meet Lisa Marie – that we’d be the best of friends. I was 7, what did I know about reality and my chances to meet anyone who knew Elvis personally?

I wanted to be Elvis and failing that, when I was 12, I saw the original movie – Cheaper by the Dozen and I wanted to be an Efficiency Expert, because I had already seen Kramer vs Kramer and I was disappointed to learn that lawyers argue for clients or for the state/crown and no one in a trial is arguing for the Truth – sorry Mr Smith, Washington isn’t ready for your close up.

But the computer, in high school, in 1984 told me that in a database of 10,000 jobs – that when I entered in all of my interested – there were no jobs for Nina.

So I had to work and hustle and take away interests, just so I could see what job a computer told me to be. Finally – I took out enough interest and skills and there was 2 jobs.

Movie Producer or Prime Minister of Canada.

And when I printed that list – and I still have all 9 lists that the computer printed – somewhere

And I showed it to the guidance counselor – you know, the kind that we all have to do to.

I don’t know about anybody’s else’s guidance counselor – but mine said

Well, this being Canada, being a movie producer is Hard, so You better go to law school.

But she could see the scowl on my face and my resistance to law school – but she did not ask why I was resistant – everyone else she told to go to law school was thrilled to think they might be able to be a lawyer instead of a legal assistant or legal secretary – as girls were told to be even in the 1970s.

But then, this wonderful woman who was my guidance counselor said the most magical words to me.

You know, she leaned in closer until she was almost talking in my ear so no one else could hear what she was going to tell me and tell me alone and tell me next, we could really use a smart and funny woman Prime Minister.

“Just Asking” – Don’t Ask and I won’t Tell you Again

The American Military had an interesting policy a while back

Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.

But the problem was that they applied the idea to a narrow and oppressive and illegal policy – because it was not consistent with the American Bill of Rights.

Which says that the Individual is the Social Unit of Consequence with the Freedom to Take Liberties with Whatever Makes You Happy

Because that’s what the pursuit of happiness is – being able to figure out what makes you happy.

So if anyone is made happy by offering their life in service to their nation – then, more power to them – and go for it.

I used to work at RCMP – Royal Canadian Mounted Police – and I regularly had lunch with Corporals on up to Inspectors.

But I was a Federal Public Service Employee – a civilian – so I did not have to obey any of the quasi-military stuff about standing when senior officers entered the room or any of that macho top dog underdog zero summing – that to my lesbian mind – is the kinkiest domination game that is played out in public.

Because I joked and whined a lot about how I really really wanted to be given one of their Police Hats.

And one lunch – it was me and 9 RCMP Constables and Officers – and one of the constables – and this is how Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell plays out inside Canada’s RCMP:

I am a soft butch – and you are going to get a chance to look at me – because I’ve decided to add video content to this blog – there’s two kinds of videos that will start being posted.

On Fridays – it’s going to be me Depressersizing To Elvis Presley and maybe some Patsy Cline or kd lang – not sure which

and on another day of the week – or maybe just special ones – I am going to monologue the blog instead of writing it – because – I can’t be sure – given that this blog has an international audience – if you all know – y’all know – how to read my blog – which you recognize as written English – but I am writing in Canadian English – and that is a very derivative of American and Commonwealth English.

And I do not talk or act or think much like my fellow Canadians – so when I observe other Canadians who are talking like Americans – for example – Mistuh Harper who still owes me $50 – and I asked for all my reader’s help to collect said $50……

Then I get very very concerned – because I talk like Americans in Hollywood – and Mr Harper talks as if he’s from Washington, but he really talks – to my ear – like he’s Texas – and Mr Harper is from Alberta – which is Texas in Canada.

And I love Americana – Elvis and the 50’s – so when I listen to Mistuh Harper talk – I know who he sounds like – McCarthy – only with Canadian restraint – because Mistuh Harper is the first American Prime Minister of Canada – and the whole world saw what happened under George W Bush – 9/11.

And to my mind – the only difference between W Bush – war mongering draft dodger – and Harper – economic policy wonk – is that Mistuh Harper keeps his religion to himself. Because Religion and Politics in Canada – they don’t mix – so we do not have all the sex scandals because no Canadian politician is so dumb as to Declare – FAMILY Values – because if there’s one thing that Canadians do not like to talk about – it’s money.

So there is not enough money in Canada for gay or girl sex workers to be bribed – so Canadian politicians are never brought down by live boys or dead girls.

They have been brought down by Dead Wives or Live Girls or Angry Wives who know better than to stand by that kind of man………

So – wow, roundabout way (great for traffic calming on street too, btw) to get your minds cleared of what I was going to say about the RCMP.

So – at lunch within the RCMP HQ in Vancouver – Me and 9 RCMP Constables to Inspectors – I want to set the scene in your mind – just the exact way that I see it in my mind – and then you will have a clue why I am a screenwriter of edgy character driven dramas which expose the seductive line between mainstream/fringe.

Because this is an absolutely true story about me – and it will show everyone – how I view the world and why I know – how I know that I am always right or write – I get those words confused sometimes:


Around a large rectangular table that fills the room so that people are not able to walk passed anyone sitting at the table – the chair backs touch the walls.

NINE RCMP CONSTABLES TO INSPECTOR GRADE people are eating homemade lunches, mostly middle aged white men.

ONE RCMP CONSTABLE is a a very butch lesbian who is the lowest ranked constable in the room – and is not doing anything to attract attention to herself.

NINA is eating a microwave burrito for lunch.

The group is friendly and welcoming of each other’s company – and the room has just fallen silent as people breath and eat some food before the next round of conversation.

You know, Nina, if you really
want a forage cap, you could
apply to join as a Member.

Male constables and Inspectors nod approvingly.
Some looking to Nina for her response.

Nina puts down the burrito and looks around the room – at each and every person’s now expectant face.

Sure, I could. But uniforms are more a fetish
than a lifestyle thing for me, I just want the hat.

and if you think that our Maple Leaf on our flag looks read in the middle of that white playing field…..

well, mouths dropped open, food hung suspended in the air, people gasped and faces turned so red that the maple leaf – was no longer distinguishable because there was not a white face in the room

except mine

dot dot dot

She shoots, She scores – it’s Hockey Night in Canada –

Ladies and Gentlemen –

Nina always scores a hat trick –

and anyone who loves hockey can tell you that there are three parts to a hat trick – the set up, the sting and the score.

but most people only pay attention to the score


The Shut-in Stand-Up

A dear friend of mine – who has been helping me to get out from under difficult times – sent me this.

Now, My Friend is an American and a Southern Gentlemen – I adore Southern Gentlemen more than anyone who knows me suspects – even though everyone who knows anything about me knows – that I am crazy about Elvis Presley.

He just does something to me that – well, you see – all women are sexually flexible – and I live in Canada – so there are no Southern Gentlemen in Canada – which is partly why – I chose to be a Lesbian.

Because – after you’ve had Elvis – singing in your ears and filling your eyes and making you feel things – well, there’s really nothing that any man can do that compares to Elvis.

And my Southern Gentleman caller – he knows that I…

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