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A good morning to all, including all golfers already on the links! Here in British Columbia we are having beautiful summer weather, which is great for golf, but not helpful for the massive forest fires raging in the interior of our beautiful province.  My warmest thoughts go out to those displaced, those who have lost property or pets or livestock, to those who are on the front-lines trying to quell these monstrous blazes, and to those wild animals living in peril.  May this soon abate!

But what about GIR?  What is GIR and should anyone care?  Until the past few years, I certainly did not know what at least one particular GIR was. Anyone can go on the internet and find Gir National Park in Gujarat, India.  One can also find GIR as Global Investigations Review focused on international policy issues, or Gir can pop up as the “stupidly adorable”, lovable, hyper-active assistant to Zim, or it could be silicone cooking tools that Get It Right.

GIR only arose for me once I became intrigued with golf.  So, GIR in my world is an abbreviation for “greens in regulation”.  Which means…….that for each length of a hole in golf, there is a desired or expected number of strokes that one should take in order to get from tee to green. So for each length of hole, it may be a par 3, par 4 or par 5 depending on the number of yards (or meters) it is from tee to green. On a par 3 it would be expected that one would get on the green with one shot from the tee, while on par 4 holes, it is expected to take two shots to get on the green, and for par 5 holes one would take 3 shots to get on the green.  Thus, GIR has been achieved in essence when the number of strokes taken is at least two fewer than par for a given hole. In each instance, this leaves one with two putts to get the ball into the hole for par.  This all seems quite reasonable.  Indeed, some of the professional players can get onto a par 4 green in one shot from the tee and onto a par 5 green in two shots from the tee.  Thus, they can actually do better than GIR……really GUR (greens under regulation…..I just made this up!).

So, what is the point of going on about GIR.  Well, when I first decided to take up golf in a more serious way in 2009, I rarely had a GIR result.  I just could not hit the ball far enough, straight enough or accurately enough to do so.  I though GIR was imaginary!  recently, things have changed.  With instruction, lots of practice, better clubs and the tincture of time, I have reached a point where I often am succeeding or nearly succeeding in have GIR on a variety of courses.  It feels good.  It generally goes along with better overall scores per round, and one begins to imagine that you are making progress in this challenging and magnetic pastime.  An occasional GIR just adds “zen” to the game like it is supposed to be.

May your day include at least one GIR, whether it is strokes on the golf course or it is in other facets of life where fewer moves or efforts can yield great results!

One of the most expansive and growing industries is that related to waste, trash, garbage and debris.  All around the world, we face a mountain of trash.  It is a terrific money-maker for those committed to dealing with trash and who are good at using trucks and other technologies to remove such material from towns and cities and country lanes, neighbourhoods and districts, and garbage cans and bins liberally dispersed throughout our communities. Sometimes there are more big garbage trucks on our streets than there are motorcycles, buses or vans!

But there is another aspect of this garbage glut that is frankly overdue for a renaissance of action.  That is, dealing with the aimlessly scattered newspapers or newspaper fragments, napkins, food boxes, coffee cups, cigarette butts, condoms, and receipts…..these materials make our streets and byways ugly and they create work for home owners, businesses and city and municipal departments, as they constantly scour for this waste material that should already be in a garbage can or bin. All it would take to rectify this situation is respect for our environments and each other. People who thoughtlessly litter can stop.  They can use the cans provided by tax-supported programs from which we all benefit. Each of us could “adopt” a city block or neighbourhood wherein we go around once a week and grab the bits and pieces that we find on sidewalks, in curbs, in shrubs and on publicly-facing lawns, etc.  Our community would be much more attractive and pleasant.  We all do live here! I have a new garbage pincer device that I am trying out for my role as a cleaner-upper.

Another related, but perhaps quite different focus for action we could undertake as whole communities, is the mass application of fresh paint on buildings and fences.  I have always thought that there should be a national or provincial “beautification day” for our communities wherein people were given at least a half day off work to scrape and paint and stain our buildings, either anew or as a refresh.  This could be done for businesses and residences, and especially for people who are not physically able to paint up their own place of business or dwelling.  And, what would make sense is that paint stores, lumber yards, etc., could donate the materials including stain and paint, but also brushes, scrapers, pans and the like, or provide such below cost for these purposes.  We would see a lot more civic pride showing through in pursuing these activities together on the same day.  What a difference it would make to what we see around us.  Also, it might inspire folks to plant a few flowers and clean their windows, among other things. The psychological and sociological impact would help us all appreciate our surroundings more than we do, and to take their beauty less at face value as if someone else was responsible.

So pick up the garbage and paint the walls! Cheers!!

Barcelona’s harbour, boardwalk, sandy beach, sea and sky are full of a panoply of natural and unnatural activities.

The sky is big, a big ocean sky, mostly blue with a light haziness and a distant seemingly immobile ridge of thunderheads. The sky welcomes a new aircraft about every 2 minutes on target for runways at the Barcelona International Airport, while seagulls ride the wind in wild and rather erratic ways – flight for pure joy.  Closer to the ground, on the edge of the coastal rocks and just beside the outdoor restaurants cluster the local songbirds, looking a lot like ours, but perhaps more colourful in variegated green hues.  Most look like a relative of our wrens one would think.

The diversity of boats, ships and other watercraft is amazing to say the least. Tall ship replicas run routes from one end of the great bowl-beach to the far eastern limit.  These graceful ships, run with sails trimmed, no doubt by engines not seen, a matched by a range of medium-sized harbour boats carting tourists to-and-fro along the sparkle of a sculpted beach zone. These ships and boats are accompanied by a range of catamarans, sailboats, high-powered seado’s, tankers, cruise ships, wind-sails, para-sails, lifeguard rafts, and paddle boards. There were many human-powered efforts, either on those paddle boards, wind-sails, or in the water swimming, lolling or just hanging out.  The youth of Barcelona crept up onto the huge chunks of concrete used to build a breakwater, just outside the property margin of the W Hotel.  The beach security would periodically come to shoe them away, but soon more would reappear again……a delicate dance between propriety and youthful spirit.

The beach and boardwalk are long……..looking like3 or 4 miles in this location. The human species fills up the sandy corridor, and a few local establishments rent umbrellas to protect against the strong sunshine.  Those same establishments have a fair offering of food and beverages to quench the appetite and thirst. Young is definitely the average genre but there are numerous older souls as well.  The urge to get a tan is a universal drive that brings a spectrum of people, young and old, families and groups and singles to bask. Merchants sell beach blankets with great flourish and nice designs. The police patrol rather obscurely, making sure that all is well in this little slice of paradise.

A few more moving parts are mixed into this interesting scene……motorized and non-motorized scooters, motor bikes, bicycles, and skateboards round out the picture.

The ethnic and linguistic range of peoples here in this small space completes a signature of what peace, harmony and good times can indeed be written…….a vision of beauty that reminds us of the goodness in humanity.  The official signage on the boardwalk-beach speaks to the city always having been and always planning to be a city that welcomes all and accepts any refugees struggling to find a new life.  It is this special statement that boldly tugs at one’s heart.

 

 

It is an interesting morning.  My dear wife and I are leaving on the big silver bird for Barcelona.  Despite all of our travels, we have never made it to Spain’s architectural jewel by the sea. We are excited, and our stalwart dog, Baxter, appears uneasy as he senses we may be leaving.  Aman will take good care of him while we are away, so Baxter should be reassured……..they are a familiar pair together.

The last few days have been a little tough for Janet.  She has had bronchitis.  She coughs a lot, and especially in the morning getting everything cleared out. Many years ago, the children and I provided her with a range of nicknames, including Barch.  I find it notable when she has bronchitis, because she coughs with a bark and the name Barch comes to mind right away.  Barch barks!

Baxter only occasionally barks.  He is a dog, but barking is not his thing unless he gets excited about a special food he likes or he gets trapped out on the deck and we haven’t noticed.

Both Barch and Baxter are dogs.  Baxter by species designation, and Barch by Chinese horoscope designation. They both occasionally bark, but largely they don’t.

In Barcelona, I do not expect to hear much barking, except for a street vendor or two.  I will have Barch with me, but I think her bronchitis is on its way to settling. So, there will be conversation, with our tall Australian friends, Martha, Darryl and Tyla, but no barking. Perhaps only an occasional sound of a golf ball hitting tree bark, but no real barking. And there will be an occasional howl from the stories we hear and from a rare great tee shot. The howling is the wolf in us, a little wilder than our dogs.

 

Since Sunday, June 11th, I have been engaged with the Personalized Medicine 2017 Summit at UBC.  This Summit follows on our first effort in 2015, and with the help of locals and international luminaries from all sectors and perspectives draws us forward to a tangible and staged action planned for the province of British Columbia in the realm of personalized medicine and personalized health & wellness. The Summit program can be found at www.personalizedmedsummit.com. Last evening we had a lovely, relaxed banquet at the Museum of Anthropology, an international jewel of ethnological and anthropological artifacts from around the world, especially from the Pacific Rim peoples. At the dinner, the Summit leader, Pieter Cullis, asked me if I would say a few remarks…..which I did. I noted the fact that I have been thinking quite a bit about human suffering these days, partly borne of my lifetime of engagement in science and medicine, partly because I have lost a few family members and close friends this past 12 months, and partly because of the state in which we find the world’s peoples.  As a global society we are sagging under the weight of wars, ill-lead regimes, economic issues and the persistence of many ailments and health disorders. I noted that Helen Keller, born with sight and hearing in Alabama, USA, who lost both at an early age in the setting of high fever, became an incredible advocate and activist aiming not to overcome her own disabilities, but especially those of others.  Through her own progress, her actions and her voice, she impacted suffering in profound ways.  In her own words, “Although the world is full of suffering, it is also full of the overcoming of it.”. In this context and at this celebratory event, I offered a short poem that tries to aim at the personal nature of our professional intentions through the actions arising from the Summit.  These remarks follow.  They are entitled “Being Personal“.

Just days ago, Pieter asked me to share thoughts on this celebratory occasion

Although I am usually quiet, I gave in, upon his persistent, forceful persuasion

 

The tent is filled nearly to the max with energy of many an extraordinary friend

To sup with sauce, to talk and laugh and hug a bit, while our stomachs distend

 

I must mention a person not with us tonight, not because she’s maimed or dead

Rather she’s snug at home, eating ice cream, and watching crime shows in bed

 

That is my wife, whom most of you will not know or frankly care much about

But if I don’t say how great she is she said, she would ask Pieter, and find out

 

What does this have to do with commentary about our goals of being personal

In ways a lot, for prevention and care are truly about individuals, sick or well

 

Our setting tonight is rather perfect for reflecting on the importance of person

Cultural anthropology speaks to what we value, what we don’t want to worsen

 

The heart and soul of societies lies close to definitions of health and well-being

What habits we endorse, social contracts we forge, what progress we’re seeing

We are organized in sectors, in disciplines, in buildings, in geographies, like bins

We need more gatherings like this one, where we rub shoulders and kick shins

 

Momentum is building, but slow as a glacier’s slide or a snail’s glistening ooze

Acceleration, not the speed of a Tesla, but at least faster, spawned from schmooze

 

For those who are new here on the Pacific Rim and like the feel, we embrace all

For our challenge is our treasure, and together we will go right through any wall

 

May today, tomorrow, days long ahead, link us, inspire us, bring many an action

Which for the public, patients especially gain, with all here, a deep satisfaction

 

Thanks to all travelers and locals who have thrown in together on deep learning

As we shall attain new pinnacles of excellence from talents commonly yearning

 

Each story told of health, risk, disease, and the complexity of journies we face

For the personal in us is strengthening the cause, the understanding, the case

 

So, whatever your views, your roles, your strengths, your needs for tomorrow

I am certain good food, conviviality, fermented grapes can diminish your sorrow

Amen!

It has been a great day overall.  A round of golf with Favian, James and Robert, and little lunch with family, and a fine soapbox derby for my grandson, Oscar.  One divot entered our day though……..Thomas, Oscar’s longstanding fish, a nice beta fish named Thomas, passed on to fish heaven.  There was expected grief and tears, especially from Oscar. Thomas had entered Canada as an illegal alien from the USA when Alex, Karen and Oscar moved here from Omaha.  Thomas has had a long life for a beta fish, with good travel experiences, and owners who kept his little fish tank clean, and good quality food available. He died peacefully.  Gratitude for all of this. I spoke with Oscar tonight and he is doing better.

Losing pets is a common experience we all have, usually more than once in our lifetimes.  These losses come from unnatural and natural causes.  Regardless of the cause, it can be as upsetting as losing a family member.  Pets and their owners become bonded deeply.  The range of pets, their sizes, their species and their personalities will vary, but the love that grows between pets and their owners is inexorably greater as months and years go by. We are made better by our relationship with pets, as they are by our nurturing roles as their protectors and nurturers.  No wonder we grief when our pets pass on, and no wonder pets grieve when there owners pass on.  The magic of domestication of other species by the human species is age old, but probably one of the most important forms of symbiosis in the living world.

Thanks Thomas for being a big part of Oscar’s life and for giving joy in a mysteriously gentle and charming way.

The hubbub of daily life includes many things which stimulate the senses, sights, sounds, smells, and the push & pull of crowds. The maelstrom is not just a feature of modern life, as bustling, noisy, crowded cities and towns are ages old.  The intensity of stimulation is however greater with the traffic of various sorts, the screeching of brakes, honking of horns, rumble of trucks and buses, the dingle of bike bells, and the relentless flow of electronic information on phones and other media.

The need for moments of tranquility has perhaps never been greater.  I have previously related the peace one can find in early morning on a golf course yet filled with others. But it is worth a word about the approach of the great Bobby Jones to tournament golf……it brought a crucial form of tranquility to key shots. As beautiful portrayed allegorically in the Legend of Bagger Vance, the ability of a golfer to exclude the crowds from his or her vision as they frame a shot in their mind’s eye brought moments of peace and focus to execute at a high level. Exclusion of distractions is a venerable approach to maelstroms.  It is a little like the art of “Compartmentalization”, exemplified by the parable that “even Einstein, when tying his shoe laces, thought only of the bow”.

As one who grew up in the rural prairies, working hard along side my parents and siblings on a large mixed farm, I had the luxury of certain activities filled to the brim with tranquility.  A couple that stand out include the days we would spend picking rocks off of a particularly rocky half-section of land.  This was usually done on cool days in the fall after the crops were in the bins.  Winds would leave one sort of alone out there with 3 or 4 others, hocking rocks into the back of a wagon or pick-up truck to then dump in stone-piles at particular locations on the acreage. This was peaceful activity that was really good for the muscles of your body.  What’s more, we often had additional help from first nations folks who were much more artistic than our family members. The beauty of the architecture in the stone-piles they built was stunning actually, much more like an elevated courtyard than a pile.

Another activity that stands out for its inherent tranquility on the farm was combining/harvesting at night in the early fall. This was especially so if you were driving the truck into which the combine operator unloaded hoppers of grain “on the fly”.  You would wait at the strategic site when you knew by prior knowledge of the yield of the crop and the capacity of the hoppers at a particular point on the field.  There was deepening darkness as the evening reached into night time, and when you turned off the engine of your truck to wait, you could hear only the low pitch hum of happy combine engines and gears, while in the sky above the aurora borealis played back and forth like a Carnegie Hall performance of the natural world. This was shear exhilaration.  It is among many reasons we didn’t mind in the least working until nearly midnight to gather the grain that kept our lives solvent and sufficient economically.

A couple of other thoughts about tranquility. This may surprise people, but I like to iron clothes.  Now, at the present time, neither my wife or I have positions that require crisp, wrinkle-free clothes.  And, the pieces of clothing that do need such can be taken to professional cleaners. But a couple of decades ago, when I felt compelled to wear suits and ties and “white” shirts, I would iron nearly all of my clothes.  Even clothes that came back from the cleaners didn’t meet the standard of sharpness to be worn without additional ironing touch-up.  So, in one corner of our master bedroom, the ironing board stood (majestically), never taken down, waiting for my regular visits.  I had as much concern about the quality of the board and the iron as I would now devote to a given golf club or ball.  I loved to make the clothes “perfect” and to see how the iron, typically with just the right bursts of steam, could take a good-looking shirt to a great-looking shirt.  I was fully absorbed in the peace and tranquility of those moments….now gone.

Finally, assuring at least some sufficient level of tranquility in one’s life is both an approach and a state of mind.  One simple thing to do…….intentionally, when not on call, leave your cell phone at home when you go to dinner with your spouse.  While it may initially cause anxiety, it will give way to peace and to a much more meaningful evening. Disconnecting from electronic media of all sorts brings us back to nature, the people we are, the centre of quietude.

I have been very absorbed by the issue of suffering in recent months.  The human condition is characterized in part by suffering.  In some religious contexts, like Buddhism, to live is to suffer.  Suffering is different than pain, although they are often linked.  Suffering often arises in the context of conditions that cause acute or chronic pain.  Yet suffering is much more an emotional-mental-spiritual process or experience that may not be a consequence of specific somatic pain or discomfort. Pain and suffering can be associated with various diseases or ailments, but for many afflictions there may be periods of time when no pain is experienced or suffering is present.

Because we generally have an aversion to pain or suffering, there have been many efforts to assuage, dampen or relieve such.  These have been primordial, natural potions from plants and other animals, they have gases like nitrous oxide, ether, chloroform, etc., and they have been pharmaceutical like acetyl salicylic acid, acetominophen and all of the modern OTC painkillers.  They have been powerful opioids for medical use. They have been mind-altering illicit drugs. The thrust towards relieve of pain or suffering has driven a terrible wave of misuse of drugs with a tiny therapeutic window, wherein the overdose can spell death.  Thus, our journey to pain-free, suffering-free, stress-free lives have contributed to the over-use or inappropriate use of drugs that can kill, and kill swiftly.  We are in a global state-of-urgency regarding this crisis.

I became interested in suffering perhaps as much through the writings of Hans Selye, great Canadian researcher who devoted his life to understanding stress and the “local and general adaptation syndromes”.  His concepts about the neuro-endocrine axis and its fundamental importance in how we adapt or de-adapt to stress have permeated much modern directions and thinking biomedicine, psychology and sociology. Along with his 1000 original papers, and medical treatises, he wrote public-oriented books like Stress without Distress. But the one thing Selye pointed out that got him interested in disease and suffering was the “look of being ill” that patients have, regardless of the specific condition they have.  This look is partly a reflection of the stress, the response to it – the human face of suffering.

When I sat in a large clinic building this week, having a cup of coffee before a meeting, I had nearly 30 minutes to watch the people passing by.  I saw suffering.  I saw people with fear in their eyes, with grief, with tears, in pain, fatigued, bent, disabled.  I saw the contrasting energy of the ill and that of the busy professionals who passed by. The diversity of conditions was evident, and the diversity of the people even greater…….old and young, child and adult.  Moving through this public space were the rapid walkers and sprinters, the slow and almost immobile, the latter with canes or walkers or wheelchairs, or just someone’s strong hand.  Filling this scene there was indeed help and hope for the suffering folks. And, there on the wall was a large, and emphatic mural from Foster Eastman, I think acrylic, with white background and big black letters, boldly shouting to any readers…….GIVING IS A LONG TERM STRATEGY. We all must give to relieve the suffering we see or feel every day. Indeed, it was Helen Keller who said…..”although the world is full of suffering, it is also full of the overcoming of it.”. Be part of the overcoming!

Generally speaking, humans wear clothing while in public.  The range of clothing styles, fabrics, degrees of coverage of various body parts is highly variable.  Culture, climate, tradition, trends and personal preferences are among factors that lead one to wear whichever clothing and a particular style. The fashion industry, now with vast networks of social media, exquisite advertising and buyer analytics data can reach the masses of would-be wearers within moments with the “right message in the right flavour” for their diverse audiences and potential customers.  As everyone knows, there really are only a few styles that can exist for the kinds of fabrics we use for clothing.  As such, styles recur in cycles of perhaps 30 years, with thin and thick ties, florals and stripes, trim and bulbous in dresses, mini to maxi skirts, pointed and blunted collar tips on shirts and blouses, broad lapels and tiny lapels, etc.. Most of what you have in your oldest closet or gave to charities from the 60’s and 70’s is now in vogue again. Never throw them out – you have a renaissance in your basement!

One aspect of style in pants, specifically in jeans, mainly blue jeans, that is “hot” now is the torn jean.  This style is a rather incomprehensible enigma.  In many ways it is aggravating. The corporate world love it of course.  The trend-setters foster it. The desperate consumers, especially the young, want to emulate and be seen as hip.  So holey jeans are in, for today. I find it amazing that the time and trouble to tear holes in jeans has become a contemporary “art form”.  When I was growing up, we felt badly if we had holes in any of our clothes.  Our parents found ways to sew the holes closed, to patch them just so, or otherwise camouflage these openings. We didn’t necessarily like the patches, but we didn’t want the holes.  Another curious thing about the current holey jeans epidemic is just how long can a well-holed pair of jeans last.  Surely, after one or two washes, one or two pull-on’s, or one or two rough outings, various holes will reach the critical limit of size or shape, and, voila, one has to either sew them and patch them, or throw them away.  Good for corporations, not good for cash starved young folks.

The holey period will pass.  What will follow for leggings is already well-along on some designers sketch book or alpha marketing. And, in temperate climes the holes would be uncomfortable on a winter’s day. What will be next? I doubt see-through tights will be the norm for males.  Perhaps leather chaps for all, although leather is not cheap, is hot, heavy, and rather constraining. In equatorial zones, no pants are the norm for obvious reasons.  Most of us are not so fortunate, and would be better off at least having a big swatch to cover our homely, bony knees.

Communication occurs within and between species through many verbal and non-verbal means. One fundamental piece of our good human fortune rests in the building blocks of language, the syllables, the words, the sentences, the thought-flow.  It is exhilarating to have this privilege of not only learning words and language, but also articulating such in clear and attractive ways to yourself and others.  It is not surprising the word games like Scrabble, Boggle and variants have been created and have flourished. The foundation of their popularity is our love of words, and the social interactions that arise from a few games of Scrabble in one’s family room, on the patio, in a tent or on a plane or train. There is always that element of competition in the word game……and bragging rights to high scores.

But what of the times you are alone, through no fault of your own, and you get an urge for a game of Scrabble.  Well, I have discovered two treasures that make the enjoyment of Scrabble at least as great for a single person as a group.  In fact, playing Scrabble solo has many features that are difficult to replicate with groups.  Playing Scrabble alone streamlines the game…..no choosing as to who goes first, no debate over the veracity of words, no pause between plays and refills, no turning of the board, no scoring.  The challenge of trying to fill the board on your own is like building a new master pattern of words you like or discover.  It is your own creation!  And it goes fast, so you always have time to play again, often back-to-back.

The second treasure that has entered our Scrabble lives is the scoreless game for two, or more.  So, my wife and I often will play a game in the evening or on weekends.  we always had scored until recently.  Our family is not shy about its interest in words and literary things, and there was always a pride in who among the parents and children ruled the Scrabble board…..a shifting dominance over time as the young minds expanded and the older minds involuted.  Yet, when we took a new approach to Scrabble, scoreless, a new game emerged.   All of the advantages of the solo game came alive, and the evolution of the word matrix was more spontaneous, original and rich. Scoreless Scrabble means you think about words, not scoring on certain board squares. The words come quicker and are more elaborate in their diversity and quality.  The focus turns to the words, not the scores.  We have been amazed by this version of Scrabble for its freshness and shared enjoyment in each other’s words.  Thus, instead of ruing the great word of the other Scrabble player at the table, one celebrates each word as part of a joint construction.  Call it community-minded Scrabble if you like.

Occasional reversions to scoring are great variants to ensure that we still know how to rack up points, but solo and dual scoreless Scrabble is here to stay in our household. For the love of words, try it.