I tried to explain it; my stammered, plodding answer: a dichotomy of “someone did this to me” and “I did this to myself”.

Quick summary. My heart is 50% of what it used to be. Now, a chronic condition. (My new, young doctor was quite pragmatic in explaining my reality and my options.)

In other words, I am half the man I used to be, meaning that ‘half my heart’ implies ‘twice the penis’. It’s a mathematical conundrum ( and a personal joke) and, now, I’m trying to strike the balance between what has really happened to me and how I interpret it to the world in an effort to help myself truly — really — understand it. Cause my life now depends on it.

So, next summary: I can’t piss around. Blood pressure — affected by everything. Interestingly enough, my cholesterol is PERFECT — in fact, it’s the condition that saved my ass — actually — my heart — from complete obliteration.  (NOTE TO SELF: I will never refer to my ‘ass’ in this context ever again.)

Soooooo … how do I avoid stress? Avoid challenging issues within relationships?  Avoid high stress projects?  Avoid fighting with the retail clerk about the lack of service in the store?

Yada yada .. etceterada.

The on-the-street-reality is, I have to get real. It’s time to assess the real options. Isn’t that what we do at this point — for those of us who realize we only have so many options left —- and time?

So, what have I learned?  Well, —- I think —- I must search for those hearts that are not as jaded as mine  — or  — are as jaded as mine. Perhaps it is about finding a ‘soul mate’. But, maybe, we limit ourselves by defining these issues with simple terms like — ‘soul mate’. We all want to be loved. We are all different.

When a connection happens, how do we know it’s the ‘one’?  Did we win a lottery? But the only way to win that lottery — is to know that we have.
(EDITOR’S NOTE: To TL: educate me around trust.)

Otherwise, one might break that heart — again.  And ‘again’ might be the last time it happens for people with a weak heart.

See the dilemma?

Facebook will create a personals spin off — Face Off. In addition to filtering personalities through rigorous questionnaires, faces will be analyzed to determine how attractive the system thinks a face really is.

Food retail will have another competitor —- Super Foods. All the food carried at Super Foods will have super food qualities (anti oxidants, etc) as well as guaranteed diuretic qualities.

The use of cell phones and computers will be allowed on airplanes — for — yup — another fee.

The rate of divorces will drop substantially simply because there aren’t enough existing marriages left to support higher divorce rates.

Another cure for cancer will be found. Once again, we just won’t find out about it. Another alternative to oil will be discovered. Of course, no one will know.

The price of gas, real estate, taxes, and insurance will rise.

All people of same sex who are living together for at least one year will be considered common law as a result of the government’s realization (as well as lawyers) that these couples represent a new source of revenue.

Newly discovered 16th century French documents will prove that Nostradamus was a stand up comic.

New evidence will reveal that, according to an error of interpretation regarding the Mayan calendar, the world ended a long time ago. We just didn’t get it.

Gift giving has become the source of incredible stress for many because it now encompasses more than just family members. The list has gotten longer: bosses, business colleagues, clients, political players, postal workers, disgruntled postal workers …

There are some traditions that, at least for now, have not changed. It is still known as a Christmas tree. In Edmonton, the most famous tree is the Singing Christmas Tree, a spectacular musical event at the Jubilee. But maybe John Cameron, the producer, will have to contemplate a name change down the road. Would the Seasonal Singing Tree resonate?

In a country as diversified ethnically as Canada, this time of year is beginning to feel like a contradiction in terms. Maybe we should revisit the seasonal concept unveiled by Costanza’s father in Seinfeld: Festivus. There’s a whole website devoted to it: http://www.festivusweb.com/.

When I pulled my tree decorations out along with the manger, I paused to think about the declining lack of enthusiasm I feel at this time of year. As children get older and do their own thing, there is less time spent enjoying the traditions we grew up with. I know this is not the case for everyone, but I have run into more and more people who feel the same.  Assembling the manger helps me pause to appreciate where this celebration came from.

So, as we head into the season, may I wish you all a politically correct season and an appropriate new year — and for those of you who can appreciate it — Merry Christmas!

In the process, I have met, interviewed and had the chance to learn much about people like Stan Milner, John and Barbara Poole, John and Bunny Ferguson, Eric Newell, the Hole family, the Wheaton family, Don Stanley’s family, Sandy MacTaggart, Irv Kipnes and Bill Comrie.

I have had the privilege to meet and chat with Peter Lougheed, Don Mazankowski, Dr. Mike Percy, Bob Stollery, Tony Franceschini, Anne McLellan — politicians, CEOs, industry leaders — a parade of local icons.

Every year, I meet these highly successful people and help them navigate their way through the tribute process, which essentially means taking a lifetime of accomplishment and cramming it into 10 minutes of strategically layered images, footage, spoken word, interviews — and anything else I can use in an attempt to capture the essence of their stories.

In the shadow of their greatness, I take my own pulse to see what I have accomplished and try desperately not to measure myself against the stories I tell of others. Often, I remind myself that it is ok for some of us to be scribes while others spread the wealth through philanthropy.

As a scribe, I have the opportunity to articulate the greatness of others. As a person, I learn about greatness and what it takes to achieve it. If there is one thing I have gleaned from this process, it is that humility is the biggest part of who they are. Deep down, they have a deep respect for life and others.

Irv Kipnes, one of the recipients I created a tribute for, had more or less divested himself of most of his archive material. I had very little to work with.

Of course, creativity finds a way, but what intrigued me most was why he did not choose to keep anything.

His answer was, “What am I going to do with it? It’s just taking up space unnecessarily.” In other words, what mattered to him more were the results of his efforts left behind to endure — and to sustain art, culture, health and business and the future of bright minds.

In a discussion with John Poole, I encouraged him to write a book about his career. He was reluctant, because he didn’t want to draw attention to himself.  He viewed it as something negative — being egotistical and self centered. This was not how the Pooles behaved. But I was tenacious, urging him to consider that his story would inspire others; that there were John Pooles out there who would benefit from his experience.

He was beginning to reconsider his position about the book shortly before he passed away. If nothing else, the scribe had inspired the master.

Sometimes, I compare myself to Virgil who, in ‘The Divine Comedy’ by Dante, was assigned the role of being a guide to souls traveling from purgatoria to paradiso. Because Virgil, the philosopher, had never made a clear commitment to faith, God assigned him the role of the guide serving other spirits without any promise to him of ever entering heaven — or hell for that matter.

It reveals how God (according to Dante) is clever, wise, shrewd — one might even see His humor and perhaps the shades of irony in this judgment.

So, perhaps I am Virgil. When I embrace the body of work and experience that is my life and career, especially at a time in my life when I am pausing to measure it with some diligence — I appreciate much of what I have learned, especially when I think about all the people with whom I have walked many paths.

It has been so wonderfully imperfect. The question is, will I be like Virgil forever? Would it be easier to stay the course and walk the same path over and over; back and forth? Do I have a choice? Is my process a predisposition or a destiny determined by the Great Creator?

Will the words of the scribe take him beyond the page? Will my articulation of the things I have witnessed be a worthy contribution? Will the pages be the legacy? I may never know. Funny, when you think of it. By implication, it reveals God’s humor — and, perhaps, his ironic twist on things.

A recent radio broadcast featured a report on sodium.  Now, too little sodium might be bad for your heart.   So, where do I get a sodium counter that tells me when I have consumed the right amount of sodium?

Here’s what I’m learning.  Keep it simple.  Eat something dark green and something orange.  For fibre, pick a cereal not a sweater.  Add a berry to the cereal.  Smother it in organic skim milk.  Boil a bunch of eggs and have one every now and then for protein.  Yogurt’s a good protein thing.  And unsweetened nuts.  Beans are great for protein and farts.  Pork, chicken, beef always figure in the mix, but salmon and tuna should also fit into the mix. I’m not a big fan of fish straight up , but I can handle tuna salad sandwiches.

Spinach and mushrooms — wow — every TV doctor’s all over them.  Can’t go wrong with fruits.  Bananas are high in sugar, but high in potassium, too.  And as I am on heart meds, I need more potassium.  An apple a day …

There are some great websites out there that really dig into every health topic —www.mayoclinic.com, www.caloriecount.about.com, www.webmd.com —

And anything that helps me process fluid — good thing — I’ve seen what 25 pounds of excess retained fluid looks like in my legs.  Right now, I’m as thin as I’ve every been.  Everyone says I look great.  So, next time someone asks me if I’ve been working out, I can say — well, I tried to kill myself, but now I just make sure I eat in a way that allows me to expel liquid regularly so I can look this way.  How do you like me so far?

At the end of the day, I’m learning by trying; not beating myself up if I have something sweet or something salty.  What matters is that I don’t do anything to excess and stay away from the obvious killers — like cigarettes, telemarketers, and anything else that causes unnecessary stress.

By the way, if you have learned anything interesting about health, please share.

As I take my next steps to rebuild a weakened heart, I am carefully selecting the pieces of a small epiphany and stirring them gently into my new journey. If there has been anything in the way of a gift bestowed upon me by the ‘attack’, it is the new found knowledge that not everything you hear and read about health is accurate, meaningful or good for you.  Again, this is not news to many.  What is important to me is the realization that I truly do not know what ‘healthy’ really means or how it works.  I don’t really know what a protein is.  I do know that sodium has something to do with great tasting salami and water retention.  I thought enzymes were just a laundry thing.

More importantly, I now know how ignorant I am, how health illiterate I am, and that it almost killed me.  (Not to say that I wasn’t already killing myself.  Let’s say that ignorance unchecked can be an accelerant.)

Rewind a few weeks.  It was one of the busiest seasons of my career.  Amidst many projects, I was also enjoying the gig of a lifetime: writing and directing the Canadian tour of William Shatner’s one-man show, a production of Trixstar Productions.  The executive producer, Mike Anderson, the young, emerging, superstar, had landed the gig, taking it away from an Australian production company.

This opportunity found its way into my life at the end of a 3-year binge with alcohol and heavy smoking and the irregular flirtation with other substances, the supply of which came courtesy of colleagues and friends who were also caving into their own mired stresses in life and career; misery loves company — in powdered or leafy form.

The tour got off to a great start and all was well.  Except, for me, I had suddenly become incapable of doing anything physical without tremendous effort.  Even walking incurred heavy breathing.  By the end of the tour, I was 30 pounds heavier (all liquid related) and lost my breath just by sitting down to read emails.  What I did not know was that I had already had the heart attack, and it was not able to pump through the liquid I was retaining.

Maria Laskar, a friend and colleague I had not seen in many years, came to the Montreal show.  My plan had been to spend some time with her and her life partner, Sheila,  in the Laurentians as part of a post tour holiday.  It had been 3 years since I had had a decent break.  Once we got to her home in Ste. Agathe, she ferried me directly to the hospital.  The holiday became a post heart attack assessment and recovery program.

Ultimately, the probing of my heart revealed no major blockages, but it was clear my heart was slightly enlarged and weakened.  Life would have to change.  And so it started — with medication that helped me process over 30 pounds of liquid trapped in my body and nitro to reduce my blood pressure from 170/130 (some of you will know how bad that is) to a more normal 120/80.  Funny enough, my cholesterol was already good.  There were 5 or 6 other medications in my system and, frankly, I’m still trying to figure out what they are designed to do.

In 2 weeks, I had been transformed into someone healthier than I had been in past years, except for the reality of a weakened heart and body now demanding better, ongoing attention.  As I began to pick through the online offerings and sources of health information online — everything from Dr. Oz to Mercola.com —  I paused to remind myself about the one thing I experienced before the heart attack that I should never forget as I continue to trudge delicately forward on my quest to become sustainably healthy and, more so, understand what ‘healthy’ means and how it works for a 56 year old, selfish, mindlessly driven and self-consumed creative professional and Father of four.

In the weeks leading up to the tour, I had begun to cough and wheeze, first at night, and then progressively more throughout the day, often uncontrollably.  Someone who was visiting with me at the time offered some relief with various teas designed to address bronchial and breathing issues.  The teas became part of my regular intake on a daily basis.  At first, it seemed that the teas were providing some relief.  It was enough to convince me to use them throughout the tour.

The tour winded its way throughout Canada, the group of us cocooned on the concert tour bus equipped with kitchen, TVs, bed bunks —  all the comforts of home.  I often made a cup of tea, desperately trying to take the wind out of my escalating  — what I though was a — bronchial problem.   By the time the tour was half over, I had to sleep upright otherwise I couldn’t breathe.  Then, suddenly, I woke up to find my legs were, from hip to feet, three times the normal size.

Meanwhile, the struggle to breathe became an excruciating battle, hour to hour, for the duration of the tour.  My executive producer was concerned.  Nonetheless, I breathlessly carried on until the end.  Then — Maria — then — hospital — then …

The doctor told me I had had a heart attack.  The enzymes told the story.  My body — my heart —  was not able to  pump or process liquid and I had been saturating my body with it thinking the benefits of the teas promoting bronchial and breathing relief were helping.  The last thing I should have been doing is consuming as much liquid as I had throughout the trip.

Fast forward through the tests and medications.  Here I am, preparing to return home.  The lesson I take, besides the obvious lessons resulting from my abuse of life, is the fact that I do not know very much about healthy living.  So, the last thing I need to do is go online and think I know what I’m doing.  Otherwise, I might as well buy one of everything and take it all at once; try every exercise branded as a strength builder for the heart.

Actually, what I need to do is take baby steps, listen to those most qualified , which doesn’t include friends who think they know everything about the holistic or naturopathic side of life based on their own personal experience or myriad of vaguely qualified resources — the self made shamans bent on taking health by the proactive throat in order to save the crush on the healthcare system; noble notions, perhaps, but dangerous to some.

Nope.  This health illiterate is going to start slow, stick to the basics recommended by the appropriately qualified professionals and, together with a new found respect for life and health, make my heart happy — hopefully, for a very long time.

Here’s a comment from Cathy:

“I agree somewhat, but it is this technology Facebook, Twitter (which I don’t do) that allows many of us to communicate, interact and reconnect. Texting, well when you have kids….it is a lifeline!!!!!”

I have to agree with Cathy.  I use texting and Facebook to check in with my kids. I use Facebook to keep up with my quirky friends.

Here’s an interesting perspective from Mike, who writes:

“While it is called social media, why is it that so many of us are losing, or in many cases, not developing even the most basic of social skills?  Even phones are being used to text rather than talk.  Isn’t it time to educate the public that social media outlets like Twitter and Facebook are tools that should enhance societal interaction rather than replace it entirely?”

Interesting question, Mike.  But is education possible or even necessary?

The debate rages on about the nature of social media communication.  Is it impersonal or personal?  And does the question even matter?  From my perspective, I’ve seen things I’m still trying to understand.  I see more groups of people, especially young people, sitting together in places like food courts spending their time texting other people rather than talking to each other.  Maybe that’s the new social reality.

But is it really new?  Is it any different or any less personal than a group of friends sitting around in a living room watching a movie and not talking to each other, but rather focusing on the story unfolding on the screen?

One thing I think we can agree on, social media has increased social communication, whether it’s viewed as impersonal or not. And it has impacted on the way we use language.  Just as our language and social communication were impacted when the phone was invented, and later, radio, and then, television, followed by the computer.
Imagine the debates that occurred when those technologies were invented.  And look! We’re still here — communicating … through radio, and TV, on the phone … and online.

Maybe we’ve just come full circle.  After all, a text message is just an electronic telegram, only a lot quicker.

Nuff said?

But what’s interesting about this event is not so much the concert, although it was great, but rather what happened for me as I stood with a friend on the upper level of the mall surrounding the Ice Palace where thousands were waiting to see Urban do his thing.

It so happened that we were standing right in front of a kiosk for a mobility wireless retailer who should go unnamed, but, if I told you the name, it would ring a BELL.  Anyway, the kiosk was located against the rail overlooking the ice palace where Urban was going to perform making it difficult to see, but not impossible.

The three young men running the kiosk seemed quite perturbed that they were getting suffocated with all of these music fans jockeying for a better position trying to see past the kiosk and down into the ice palace.

So you might ask, what does this have to do with social media?  Well, consider this.  Here we are living in an age where millions of people everyday send millions of texts, tweets, video and photos by phone.  And even though we were standing in front of the kiosk for other reasons, meaning, we weren’t there to actually buy a phone, here was an opportunity for 3 young sales people to take advantage of a social situation that happens once in a blue moon.

They could have taken the time just before the concert to show people how well their phones can capture video of the artist, and how one could upload the experience and send it to their friends or post it on their facebook profiles.  But instead of being ‘social’ with the crowd, they decided to treat everyone with disdain and chose not to interact at all.  When we asked them to move a few empty boxes that were blocking the view to the event at the back of one end their kiosk, they refused.

It’s interesting to note that, once Keith Urban started performing, these same sales reps were talking on their own cel phones and, eventually, started capturing video and photos of Keith Urban to show to their friends.

So what’s my point?  We’re living in an age that is all about getting connected.  But in this situation, we learn that just because we’re social media animals doesn’t mean we’re always all that social.

The sales guys eventually moved the boxes blocking the view, probably out of fear from the small mob that we had become.  And I’ll always remember my friend’s comment that somehow captures the moment when she said, in her charming and disarming way, “Maybe you guys should get a real store”.  HA!  Take that, you kiosk clowns.  Maybe next time you’ll get social.

Or are we just pushing buttons and tapping keys and losing touch with reality, unable to connect in real life.

Earlier in 2010, Kevin Smith, the well known director of films like “Chasing Amy” boarded a Southwest Airlines flight to Burbank.  The flight attendant asked him to get off the plane.  The reason was that Kevin Smith is a huge man and there was only one seat left.  Smith is quite blunt about his size because, after the incident, he tweeted his 1.5 million followers with this message.

“Dear @SouthwestAir – I know I’m fat, but was Captain Leysath really justified in throwing me off a flight for which I was already seated?” Well, that tweet went ballistic to the point where Soutwest, which has a million followers of its own, posted a blog entry in response to Smith’s rantings.

The airline published an apology to Smith admitting that he was poorly handled. They also went on to say, and, I quote, “Mr. Smith originally purchased two Southwest seats on a flight from Oakland to Burbank–as he’s been known to do when traveling on Southwest.  He decided to change his plans and board an earlier flight to Burbank, which technically means flying standby…When the time came to board Mr. Smith, we had only a single seat available for him to occupy. Our pilots are responsible for the safety and comfort of all customers on the aircraft and therefore made the determination that Mr. Smith needed more than one seat to complete his flight. Our employees explained why the decision was made, accommodated Mr. Smith on a later flight, and issued him a $100 Southwest travel voucher for his inconvenience.”

Regardless of the kissing and making up, what this story reveals is how social media is changing public relations.  The fact is, you never know who you’re talking to.  They might be a blogger with millions of readers or have a gazillion Facebook friends.

And what about Stephen Duckett and his cookie-gate.  I googled “Duckett’s cookie”.  There were over 8 thousand pages on the subject and counting.  Ouch!  The YouTube cookie video has been viewed over 140 thousand times.  Ouch again.  That must have been one awesome cookie.  In fact, that cookie was made by my good friend Keith Persaud from La Persaud catering.  Cookies so good, you can lose your job over them.

According to the social media site, ReadWriteWeb.com, when the accounts became disabled, most of the complaints were made using Twitter.  But here’s what’s really interesting.  The bug, it appears, only affected female Facebook users.  Every single complaint on Twitter came from female users.   If there were any complaints from the guys, it was on behalf of their gals.

Think that’s weird.  It gets weirder.  And this information comes from the Boy Genius Report, or BGR.com.  One user got reactivation instructions that apparently came from Facebook that reads like this:

Please upload a government-issued ID to this report and make sure that your full name, date of birth, and photo are clear. You should also black out any personal information that is not needed to verify your identity (e.g., social security number).

If you do not have access to a scanner, a digital image of your photo ID will be accepted as well. Rest assured that we will permanently delete your ID from our servers once we have used it to verify the authenticity of your account.

BGR recommended that no one should follow the instructions until they had been contacted by Facebook.

As it turns out, the reactivation process was legit.  And in Facebook’s response to BGR’s inquiry about the process, Facebook said that asking for a valid ID is a last case resort when they are trying to reactivate a deactivated account.  Anyway, apparently the bug is fixed.  But I still haven’t found anything that explains why the thousands of people who were affected were female users.   Hmmmm.  Makes you wonder, don’t it?

Regardless of the mystery, my question is, what if your Facebook account goes down because of some new bug and they can’t reactivate it.  Not that it’s a life and death scenario, unless of course, you’ve built up a huge fan base as part of what you do.

I mean some people have invested hundreds of hours building the Facebook profile they have.

What’s the backup plan.  You can back up your email address books and all your messages.  But can you back up your social media?  What if something happens to you on your favorite social media site?  Will it be a big deal?  Or will it be an even bigger deal?

What do you think?  Ever been deactivated?  Ever lose ‘face’?