North American Contrarian

Telling it like it is… in North America

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Sunset at Uluru and a Bucket List Diatribe

Article 1_Intro Image Uluru

The concept of the bucket list has crept into popular culture right alongside greek yogurt and skinny lattes.  Now you would think that a bucket list would be a highly personal, filled with the individual accomplishments one would like to fulfil before their inevitable journey into the void of nothingness.  But fortunately for those without enough ambition to decide on their own life goals, the list comes made to order, like a combo meal at your favorite fast food joint.

Surprisingly, the list is quite low on things like: “make amends to my parents for the great sacrifice of bringing me into the world.”  Or “reduce my consumption of fossil fuels so that future generations may continue to inhabit the earth at the time when this list is permanently rendered null.”  Or even more general objectives like “try not to be such an asshole”.


The list is focused on personal goals, and the highest rank almost inevitably goes to travel.  Actually, let me take that back.  The bucket list is dominated only by very specific things you are required to see (Egypt’s pyramids or Machhu Picchu) or do (dive the Great Barrier Reef or walk on the great wall of China).

Anything between these visits is largely deemed unimportant.  So, for instance, a generality like “backpack though Asia to come back with a broader perspective on my own culture” is far too vague to make the cut.

Very recently I travelled to one of the sights that features prominently on the list, the great rock at the center of the Australian continent called Uluru.  This 600 million year old, 348 meter tall monolith is impressive largely because the terrain in this region is so completely pancake-flat that the rock dominates the field of view for hundreds of kilometers.   It becomes even more impressive at sunset, when rock emits a vibrant red hue as if thousands of stage lights are hidden in its interior.  With an almost biblical appearance it’s no wonder the indigenous residents of the area revere the rock as sacred.  Finding this thing must have been like travelling through Kansas and discovering the Empire State Building.


No trip to Uluru is complete without a white table cloth

I arrived to the rock’s viewing area at 5:45 pm as the sun was still high but beginning its descent, unloaded with the other 35 people in my group and joined the throngs of other tourists eager to check one more item off of their list.  Apparently (and news to me)  to fully check off sunset at Uluru, the viewer should also do expensive things as the sun descends.  This includes five star dining or at least a glass of Champaign and several tables were set up by tour operators to indulge this req1uirement.   The scene was chaotic as each person jostled to get in front of the other and capture the image that would soon be distributed on social media networks around the world.  In fact, I could already imagine the Facebook caption:

Here is me at another of the world’s great sights.  I am moving through the list in rapid enough succession that when I die my gravestone could very well say: RIP: Kevin managed to cram in at least 3 minutes at every single item on the bucket list. “

As the sun dipped below its apex, I looked over the shoulders of the several tourists in front of me (being short is a curse every baseball game, movie and bucket list sight) and I was truly rapt by the incredible sight.  This was a marvel of nature.  It seemed impossible that a huge chunk of inert material could give off such a vibrant glow.

Glowing ULU

But as quickly as this feeling came, it was gone as I took an elbow to the pelvis by a group member looking for that perfect perspective.  And soon after, the sun fully extinguished and the rock became nothing more than a silhouette.


The Bucket List “money shot”

Soon our bus was loaded, as were dozens of others and the site was deserted.  As we careened out of the parking lot and towards our resort complex it struck me that I had just checked off another of the world’s most impressive natural phenomenon.  But, as with all of my experiences at these sights, there was no epiphany and no transcendent moment that you would think should accompany a visit to a place we “should all see before we die”.

Instead, the majority of my time at this great bucket list site was spent elbowing through the crowd or picking at the antipasto spread.  And in the end the photo I got is way inferior to anything you would see  in so many postcards and travel guides.  But then I suppose that is not the point.  You see, having my head superimposed against Uluru brings me one monument closer to completing the list that on my death bed will give me the satisfaction that my life had meaning.

Or so I am told.



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How I Manned Up… and Accepted the Vacuum Cleaner

I clearly remember the day I got into my first (and only) fight.  I was 16, and it happened after class in an open field. I have no recollection what started it, I simply remember that it attracted a big crowd, and that in the end I was thankful I didn’t lose teeth.  But I also recall being satisfied that the fight- along with chasing girls and sneaking into bars, was one more defining moment in my quest towards manhood.

It all seems so quaint now.

Fast forward 20 years.  Since then there is home ownership, a 9-5 job and a countless flow of bills that require “urgent” attention.   But these were all expected trappings of grown up life and drilled into me by endless teachers, professors and parents.

On being a man, however, there was scarcely little preparation.  Here, I’m not referring to the ability to fix an engine, build a fence or possess a preternatural knack to barbecue a steak to medium rare (I still struggle with all of these).

08800_pornforwomen36Instead, what I have found is that the greatest challenge to modern male-dom is the anti-archetype.   No one ever prepared me for the vacuum cleaner.

I don’t mean this in the sense that that I am bad at vacuuming and wish I had received more instruction throughout my upbringing.  What I mean is that it took me several years of internal strife to feel comfortable with the idea of Kevin vacuuming. It took even longer to reconcile doing the dishes, and I still struggle to handle my weekly garbage duties.

The older I get, the more I realize this is not a trivial matter.  There are duties that must be done in every home, and someone needs to accept responsibility for life’s most mundane tasks.  Leonard Cohen expressed it best in his song Democracy:

It’s the Homicidal Bitchin’;

That Goes Down in Every Kitchen;

To Determine Who Will Serve and Who Will Eat.

Of course, past generations of men rarely faced this dilemma when male duties were restricted to tasks requiring heavy lifting and power drills.  But as much as I would love to blame my parents and society, this too is not totally fair.

I am the first to accept that we have moved beyond the era where women should carry all the burden of domestic life.  And more than that, the truth is that I like the concept of the guy pitching in around the house.  When I see my (more enlightened) male friends changing diapers and cooking dinner, my honest reaction is: Here is my friend.  I know for a fact he’s straight.  We still play sports together, go out for beers and regularly make lewd comments about women.  Yet, he, somehow is comfortable- even content to voluntarily clear the dishes after the meal and feel no loss of pride.

This impresses me greatly.

But as much as I admire this quality,  when it gets down to the nitty-gritty- to actually scrubbing pots and maneuvering the dust-buster into tight crannies, a sense of real dissonance strikes.  And the fact is that I’m not alone in this feeling.  Numerous studies show that women- even in our modern, “enlightened” age still, disproportionately do the housework.  One study from Cornell University showed that women still do most of the household even when woman works and the man is unemployed. 

You don’t need to be a hardcore feminist to accept that it leaves women with a pretty raw deal.  They earned the right to work, but still do not make the same salary men,  Not only must they endure PMS and labour, they are also expected to be the predominant child minders.  On top of that, they are still the ones we expect will get the mustard stains out of our pants when we run into a hot-dog “challenge”.

It was this realization that led me to take another look at the vacuum.  No, not just look… I decided I would dominate the vacuum like my childhood hero Tony Hawk took on the half-pipe.  I made it a personal mission, every Sunday to get every fleck of dust out from under the bed, and ensure that no speck of grime remained on the baseboards.  I know it’s just vacuuming, and there’s a lot more than that to keeping a home, but it’s a start, one about which my wife is quite pleased.

And, strange as it sounds, accepting the vacuum also had an important side benefit.  It made me realize that, in spite of what I believed growing up, the characteristics we most associate with manliness are the ones that are easy because doing what is expected is almost always the most simple course of action.  Instead, the real test and the most difficult challenge is to act outside of these stereotypes and make our own definitions of who we are.

For me, it started with the vacuum cleaner.

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5 Life Lessons From Cavemen

Mankind has made huge progress since the ancient days when we wandered the earth itinerantly and relied on fickle stars instead of a Tom Tom, or even Google Maps.

url-1Yes, we have discovered great marvels like the George Foreman grill (just imagine how uneven Sabre Tooth Tigre meat would be without convection cooking) and small wonders like toilet paper (I have read much about our fore bearers but have yet to learn how they handled one of mankind’s greatest challenges.)

But before we get overly self congratulatory about our progress, I think it’s worth considering some of the great life lessons from our cavemen brethren.

1) The Tough Mudder, Every Day:

Without the aid of protein shakes or kale, cavemen rarely put on even a pound.  Instead they followed a vigorous exercise regimen, a daily sweat fest that somewhat resembled the tough mudder but with only slightly less opportunity for team bonding between events.  The swivel chair and ergonomic mouse had yet to be invented and our ancestors had little incentive or motivation to sit for eight hours a day.

Vericose viens were exceedingly rare in those days.

2) A Sophisticated Diet Plan:

paleo-diet1 Even before the advent of foie gras, the cavemen’s diet was surprisingly sophisticated.  Everything was locally sourced, organic and free range.  The menu was heavy on meats, berries and other simple grains.  it was a hybrid that would both make Atkins proud while also satisfying Michael Pollan and discerning foodies, all before the advent of the Food Network.

3) Only Keep What You Can Carry:

Cavemen carefully avoided our natural obsession with hoarding in a very simple way.  There were no shortage of great things available for the taking: ornate rocks, carefully chiselled bones and fur coats of every description (granted, yearly subscriptions to Nat Geo were still not available to collect dust in the cave cellar).

But you can just picture a caveman telling his wife “honey, I agree that giant hunk of quartz is a beauty, but I just can’t be running from a wholly mammoth with that thing strapped to my back”.

It was a remarkably effective strategy with the result that cavemen were the original pioneers of the minimalist lifestyle.

 4) Family Comes First:6a00d8341bf7f753ef00e54f3e5bcb8834-800wi

This was not something that little cavemen children learnt during endless reruns of the Cosby Show.   Instead it was engrained from birth that your family was your most important worldly possession.  These people formed the only barrier between you and everything the natural world could throw at you.

Dad was more than they guy who could grant you car privileges on the weekend.  Instead, he was your only defence against some very toothy animals that wanted to add you to the food chain while you slept.

Clearly, this is not a guy you wanted to piss off.

5) Seise Each Day

Before Lululemon brought yoga to the mainstream and Deepak Chopra urged us to awake to a new consciousness, cavemen practiced a brand of new age lifestyle that will go down in the ages.  This was largely for expediency, as our fore bearers had little time to reminisce about the past or look forward to the future.

Indeed, cavemen were the ultimate practitioners of living in the now.  They seized each moment as if it were their last and lived each day to its absolute fullest without the requirement of yoga mats, tie die or Yanni recordings.

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