Young Oscar

They gave tips on CNN: Traits to win an Oscar. Get accent. Get ugly. Get weight. Get in trouble. Get dead.

My favorite Oscar dream is no longer Halle Berry, first (and last) woman of African decent to win Best Actress in 82 years. That was so long ago, I woke up.

In this dream, an Oscar was not even won. Not one for film anyways.

The dream started in a New York basement, it passed through the White House, TED, and BET (with Indie Arie). It ended up at last year’s Oscars with Hugh Jackman, Anne Hathaway, Oliver Stone, Robert DeNiro, Leonardo DiCaprio, Forest Whitaker, Adrian Brody, Barbara Streisand, Tobey Maguire and Donna Karan.

When I first saw him, I wrote, “Plays like Oscar.”

* * *
Oscar Peterson was arguably the best jazz piano player ever—even when playing with one arm.

He was my Grade 5 hero in 1978. I first saw him in 1987 in Roy Thomson Hall at Toronto's first jazz festival. Until then, i had only seen a character sketch of Oscar's legendary one-armed play. In 1994, I held the door for Oscar, and pushed his wheelchair through, in awe of my hero. He received an honorary degree in my college at UBC's War Memorial Gym, where he once played five decades before. The loudspeaker blared:

"music is a sustaining source of pleasure and inspiration in virtually every culture on earth, and we count those who create that music among our most valued citizens."

It's a lot to see your hero and push him. (Eyes were welling up) I remember that day like yesterday. That was the last time i saw Oscar.

* * *
I never thought I’d see anyone else like him again. I was wrong.

Pesci, De Niro

Eric Lewis inspired someone to write this:

“Every once in a while, an artist comes along who changes everything. Producing something completely new and meaningful, this person fills a void within the fabric of our culture--a hole we didn’t even know was there.”

~ All About Jazz

Yep - That would be Oliver Stone

On November 15, 2007, I wrote what I saw to the Grammy Awards. I called this man the “Second Coming of Oscar Peterson.”

Written November 15, 2007--from Grammy Awards.

Written by me to Grammy Awards, November 15, 2007--“I am often in New York where i see a lot of magnificent artists in places such as Zinc Bar by Houston and Thompson - where prodigy jazz players, including the second coming of Oscar Peterson, play for $5 to $10 cover.”

November 16, 2007 (note from me to Grammy Awards)--"randomly Eric Lewis (re: the second coming of Oscar Peterson) showed up at the Zinc Bar last night! He had the whole place dancing - very unusual for a jazz trio in a cellar performance."

Who's the Pianist?

In some magical fate, as if Oscar passed his mantle, Oscar, after seven decades of playing, passed away on December 23, 2007. It was as if Oscar let this young Oscar play...true to the spirit of jazz greats in a jam.

December, 2007

* * *
Wynton Marsalis, with whom he played, saw it and so did Lincoln Center, where he played. The Second Coming of Oscar won the Thelonius Monk International Piano Competition.

“It's a contest that goes beyond simply rewarding musical proficiency, instead recognizing the elusive combination of knowledge, command, passion and expression that define a true piano master.”

~ All About Jazz

* * *
I found Eric Lewis by fate. I hadn’t gone to New York City for a while. After seeing 9/11, I had scars.

When I finally returned, I was roaming lost in SoHo. It had changed so much. Artists had disappeared. Retail stepped in. I was about to leave SoHo, then on the corner of Houston and Thompson, I saw a glow inside L’Angolo.

Natalie Portman and Heather Graham were here.

And that’s where I met Paola who told me to see NuBlu where I randomly saw Nora Jones. She also told me to go to Zinc Bar nearby. I went regularly: late night sets, green-room after-hours.

Then one day a Jersey boy named Eric Lewis walked in…everyone in Zinc knew Eric after the first night. He literally blew the roof off, putting everyone into a trance and then a frenzy. He was in a zone: A trance and a frenzy.

I then wrote, “Plays Like Oscar Peterson.” Words I never thought i would write. Almost sacrilege.

A woman next to me said, “He’ll make millions.” It was hard to believe her--but what i see in great music can't be believed. That woman (happened to be his manager) was in a trance, inspired. After seeing him one last time, December, 2007, I told her, “I think this will be the last time I see him here, the next time he’ll be too famous!” Sure enough, Zinc Bar closed, moving into a larger venue. L'Angolo also closed. This happened after my brother died two years ago today. The Grammy folks were the first people i saw after my brother's funeral (see keynote below). I then took time off from New York. A year and a half off.

Zinc Bar when two blind men played
(October 15, 2007)

Where Zinc Bar used to be
(February 22, 2010)

Then one day, May 18, 2009, I received an email from a friend who was with me the last time I saw Eric Lewis play. The email had one word: "Incredible." Eric was filmed at TED. He played the strings of his piano like this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VBLNGghqZNQ

He also played at the White House for the Obamas, Spike Lee and James Earl Jones. His music made Denzel Washington's Great Debaters. And recently he's been on BET, January, 2010, with Indie Arie to play for Stevie Wonder, Whitney Houston, Sean Combs, Mary J. Blige, Queen Latifah, Maxwell and others.

People at last year's Oscars saw Eric (including people pictured above).

Donna Karan (left) Barbara Streisand (right)

Forest Whitaker

Rosario Dawson

Jason Statham once played my friend Max Serpentini's bongos randomly in Vancouver...where randomly George Michaels once spontaneously sang to Max's drumming. Max saw Eric play that December, 2007...and wrote that email that said: "Incredible."

I only see Eric now on Facebook, Twitter, YouTube and MySpace (our first place in cyberspace)…and because I can only remember him first-hand at Zinc Bar, that’s all I still talk about…that original magic, the roots of inspiration, in the roots of a New York basement.

I shared photo time capsules he could tag.

When people tell me how music is uncertain, I don’t respond because I have seen the best things happen to music, through thick and thin. The best music is belief. The best music is magic. The best music is a tonic to get anything done…to dream anything possible.

So here's my tip to be Oscar. Get magic.

* * *
After that November 15, 2007, set with Eric, i followed players outside of Zinc at 4am - an upright player walked home with music on his back and amps in both hands (no car). This inspired me to write this to the Grammy Awards (at some pre-dawn hour). I emailed it at 6:06am EDT to Los Angeles because i felt the moment mattered:

I am often in New York where i see a lot of magnificent artists in places such as Zinc Bar by Houston and Thompson - where prodigy jazz players, including the second coming of Oscar Peterson, play for $5 to $10 cover, and Caffe Vivaldi in the Village, one of New York's last surviving music cafes, where they just shot a movie about Bob Dylan who once lived next door, and whose owner receives 3000 monthly requests for a booking (a three-month wait list). Musicians play for donation. I discovered a new soulful artist there and always go there to show up to see her, i think it means so much to an artist today. She even inspired me to write a song Kate's Manhattan which i posted on Facebook and MySpace. I recently saw an artist who reminds me of Nina Simone there (Pamela Means), whom i photographed to capture the moment...

Pamela Means...an awesome Nina Simone.

...I even saw a friend of mine, an actress-musician, who visited New York City for the first time, and made it to the stage on an Open Mike to perform spoken word. She used a tiny bathroom as a Green Room to rehearse. It barely fits one person. I have never seen people so happy.

I have always called music the hardest profession and hardest art form in the world. What other art form or profession requires someone to work late nights, carry heavy equipment (and depend on it), find vehicles that fit the equipment (the harp is unbelievably wide), spend lots of money on recording, travel so much, and work for donation. Even Buddhist Monks have a better life. And yet, that's how some of the best music gets created, how it saves so many lives and impacts so many people, growing their identities at such at formative stage in life.

While i am there, i always write, wondering what speech would make music matter...always thinking of the keynote speech on Grammy night. Music Makes Me...write....all the time...with illumination only music can make.

Needless to say, we are without question very inspired by music and it is one of our biggest causes.”

Since my brother's died - nothing's made me happier than music.

* * *
The last thing my 29-year-old brother texted me in life...was about music...he wanted to explain the lyrics of Talib Kweli as i saw him sing live at the Highline Ballroom Lounge in New York, December 29, 2007. He wanted to explain how music created a social consciousness. He did this from a Toronto hospital bed. He had 91/2 weeks left to live. Word.

Play Me A Memory (Jones Street)

It’s 6 o’clock on a Monday night. The regular crowd lines up to play.

This is the oldest music café– continuous in the Village. It’s not as old as San Francisco’s Saloon where walls are layered by Civil War and Blues. But three decades into New York City is like living three centuries.

If you throw a stone down Jones Street, it will inevitably pass where some Artist made history.

Around the corner, on 4th Street, Bruce Springsteen was a new Artist, not yet the Boss. Madonna lived there. Jack Kerouac wrote at Rivera Café.

Positively 4th Street

Jones was a treeless two-way street when Bob Dylan was famously photographed for his second album.

At first meeting, she was 17, he was 20. They lived on 161 West 4th Street, Dylan's first New York flat, seeking the poetic spirit.

Jones today is a one-way tree-lined street facing Bleecker St. A land still mapped by songlines.

No one really knows how old this one block off the beaten path is…but Jones may have been laid down in 1794 by Dr. Gardner Jones himself. Greek row houses from 1843 (26-30 Jones) still neighbor this music café at 32 Jones. A regular in here once won the Nobel Prize for literature.

Caffe Vivaldi, 32 Jones, New York

It's here Kate Sland's songs and wit save the souls of people like me. To keep the soul honest. I am always jonesing for more.

Tonight singer-guitarist Jason Darling quips, “My one contribution to this place is the dimming of the lights.”

“I asked for dimmers …(months pass) … and one day I decided to put them in myself.”

Jason was introduced to Caffe Vivaldi by singer-pianist Kristin Hoffman who’s played 400+ nights here.

She is the only singer on the café's walls. Of all sounds that bounced off these walls, hers touched them most.

http://www.youtube.com/watWhen We Were Kids.

Max Serpentini introduced me to Caffe Vivaldi. He played guitar like Andy McKee - with a wall of sound.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ddn4MGaS3N4&feature=fDrifting

When Jason arrived on Jones Street, randomly (like every other random magic spirit here), he was asked to play Bob Dylan for a Japanese documentary. Jason had actually moved here because of Dylan. Freewheelin' Dylan was photographed here in 1963. Dylan walked Positively towards 4th Street.

* * *
On the sidewalk, outside this café, Woody Allen just filmed Whatever Works (2009) with Larry David. He’s the guy you know, but you don’t know why.

http://www.youtube.com/watWhatever Works

Woody Allen with café owner Ishrat Ansari at 32 Jones

Inside the café, photos still hang on the walls from the set of Bullets Over Broadway (1994). Woody Allen was here 15 years earlier and 15 years later making two different movies.

* * *
Tonight there's a man trying to sell beer. Singer-host-bartender-nursing student Kate Sland, from Ohio, tells him, it's a hard sell. Ishrat doesn't drink. He does hear a lot of music. Outside of his daughter playing Ode To Joy, 3000 acts try to book one day of the month. Ishrat only chooses the inspiring.

Beer? Only inspiration can add one more bottle.

(The drink menu is literally bottles on the bar)

* * *
Al Pacino shot a scene here once, self-directing Chinese Coffee (2000), a “semi-autobiographical character study…a cast of actors who've proved themselves before and after, a Greenwich Village setting, and thus the world of floundering poets, bartenders, belly dancers, photographers, jealous doormen, haughty Shakespearean quotes, urbane coffee shops and French restaurants.”

Cruising (1980), Pacino’s other movie on Jones Street, didn’t do so well.

* * *
True New York Story: After seeing Jason Darling sing only once (2007), I heard his song Systems play at Union Square’s Coffee Shop while in a Grammy Awards meeting (2008). The sound of magic travels from Jones Street.

Time Capsule (2007): Jason Darling set list on the café floor at 32 Jones.

I missed his Thursday night show (Feb 25, 2010)--that snowstorm. He never comes Mondays…but like any summoning…tonight he is here.

* * *

Jason arrives at Kate’s Open Mic, a first. He'll be back.

I’m not sure if this Monday night really has a formal name…but I’ve called it Kate's Open Mic for many years. Open to any Artist, it’s the longest-lasting music event I know of in New York City (not focused on one person)...outside of Lion King.

It’s hard to keep inspiration going, randomly and weekly, for years. Fittingly, Kate’s Open Mic is at the Village’s longest surviving music café. Its fireplace is a reminder of Old New York.

Don't Look Back

* * *
Open Mics originally helped Artists pay for rent.

"Hootenanny" (aka Open Mic) is Appalachian for things whose names are forgotten (whatchamacallit). It was also a country term for "party." A folk group with Pete Seeger and Woody Guthrie brought it to New York for weekly parties, where Artists shared songs to pay for rent.

I don't know if this counts as Jones Street's first hootenanny, but in 1960, one Christmas, residents, across from 32 Jones, were about to get evicted and staged "Christmas Pageant" on icy Sheridan Square sidewalks. Their landlord was cast as Scrooge.

* * *
Jones Street is one of New York’s smallest streets. People from many countries walk on this street. I’ll never forget a man from Paris who waited all night long at Kate's Open Mic, right off the plane, to play his first song in New York City. He was the last man standing.

Last Man Standing

This is the neighborhood where the "original vagabond" Bob Dylan once just showed up in “the city that would come to shape my destiny.” He named himself after a Welsh poet who drank himself to death at the White Horse, later dying at Chelsea Hotel. RIP Dylan Thomas.

* * *
Kate Sland’s been here four years now, hosting this night. I remember when she was named Kate Pivoriunas.

She’s the only Artist I know, without an album, whose fans can sing her words.

http://www.youtube.com/watLake Erie

* * *

Off the beaten path, magic happens.

Here at this Greenwich Village hideaway I sat next to a friend of Malcolm X, Allen Ginsberg and Jack Kerouac. People just wander in, including this former New York Times and New York Post reporter named Al.

Sometimes Artists arrive here with expectations – but that’s not how magic works. Or how memories are made.

One act inspires the next act.

Got spine?

* * *

It’s a small world on Jones Street.

My birthday passed this week. This trip to New York City, I sat next to a man whose birthday was the same as mine (my first night at this café). Then I sat next to a man who was from a small Illinois town where I was born (my last night at this café). Only on Jones Street.

* * *
On my birthday, I saw my 6th Kristin Hoffman show here over four years.

Her car just got towed: $375. Her Friday gig was snowed out. She was out nearly $900. I bought her Interscope debut album Real (2006). Interscope discovered her here.

The age of Radiohead's Thom Yorke and I is the number of dots on two dice.

I tipped Kristin $42. 42 is"the Answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything" if you Google it. 42 is the only MLB baseball number not worn (after Mo). I turned 42. My bill from Tricia was $32 at 32 Jones.

A pianist and guitarist (who plays with a bow), here from Universal Records (France), invited Kristin to play at Webster Hall the next night.

This night, Kristin invited Nicolas Neidhardt (piano) and Jan Pham Huu Tri (guitar and bow) to jam on Hope After All.

My daughter really wanted to go to Paris this month. Unlike me, she didn’t speak French. Nicolas’ wife Stéphanie, a chef, randomly invited her to their house in Montmartre – the hood of Moulin Rouge. Ah Toulousse-Lautrec: Le Chat Noir still hangs.

I later emailed Stéphanie the only song I know named after her by Buckingham Nicks. Merci, Beaucoup.

"Stephanie."

* * *
“Just like great cuisine,” I told her, “Great music cannot be made with a company telling a musician what to do.”

But there are also mediocre chefs and musicians, we nod. Good sounds great. But when you hear great, it doesn’t sound like good.

It is magical. Féerique. Good doesn’t matter anymore.

On Tuesday night at 32 Jones, another man from Paris played. He knew of Jan. He just played at NuBlu where i told Jan to go. Yvonnick Prene played a jazz harmonica.

She's from Israel. I never got her name. But her fingers were so blissfully fluid.

* * *
The ghosts of magic were out tonight. Inexplicable intersections…This café almost died in 2009—then a fundraiser one August day saved it.

* * *
This week, randomly, my friends Andrea Ramolo and Jason Skiendziel had a New York City debut here with Law&Order’s Jeremy Sisto.

Andrea Ramolo New York concert debut (Feb 23): A night before, she traveled 24 hours from Memphis just to sing one song at Kate's Open Mic. She arrived at 10:30pm just before closing. Last woman standing.

http://www.youtube.com/watThank You For The Ride

Law & Order's Jeremy Sisto's Caffe Vivaldi debut

Michael Sackler-Berner: His father was in the house, Jeremy's "boss." A notable Arts patron.

My last night, I always say goodbye to Kate, who also bartends at Joe's Pub. Kate's nursing school classmate sat next to me, this last night. She is dating a Canadian lead actor from Law&Order SVU. What I didn’t tell them...he was in a charity project we had done with Andrea Ramolo in 2009. Coincidences are normal on Jones Street.

The photo we used

In his 32 Jones debut, Jeremy Sisto referenced Pacino unsuspecting Pacino was once here.

48 hours after i photographed this...Jeremy Sisto's celloist Lenae Harris wore a Rubick's Cube shirt. His upright player was about to go to NuBlu where i was going to go. His back up vocalist Claire Reilly-Roe is a Canadian Pisces like me.

* * *
There are always magical mystery tours at 32 Jones. A Monday ago, Anna Weng sang a new song called Meet Me At Patsy’s. Later that night, I saw a sign for Patsy’s. This song was about meeting someone half way. I saw the sign in the middle of nowhere.

I’ve experienced so many moments like this on Jones. I am not the only one to say so.

* * *

I will miss Jones on March 13 when Harrison Ford’s son Malcolm plays. Ishrat vouches his band is good.

I memorized Malcolm's band name wrong. That's music for you. They are the “Dough Rollers.” Not the “Dollar Bills.”

* * *
At Kate's Open Mic, Rachael Epp and Mary Jennings are in the corner cutting handbills, sheets printed off Mary’s computer earlier in the day.

Good Songs
112 Rivington, Tuesday, March 9, 8pm, NYC.
$10 or $7 if you bring old clothes to trade. Remainders go to Housing Works.

Watch them sing Beautiful Like This.

Butterfly Effect (sidewalk outside 32 Jones, March 2, 2010). Ishrat's daughter inside plays Ode To Joy.

When one act does, so does the next.

* * *

Josh Taylor sang Fortune Teller. Jason Darling was smiling. It was one of Josh's strongest performances. You can tell when Artists are motivated to approach the Artist. For a spell, I never saw Josh sing for two years, and then marveled over improvements he made. Improvements are hard to imagine – especially for yourself.

Canadian Daniel McKenzie was inspired to accompany Josh by piano. He’s leaving for Canada next day (just like me) with his friend Jessica Fodor. Small world, Andrea Ramolo’s one-man band Jason Skiendziel (upright, mandolin) jammed with Daniel McKenzie in Ontario….Jones Street is a small world.

Jamie Bendell was inspired to join Josh and Daniel, adding vocals. Her song We Say We’ve Changed will floor you. I still remember the first time I heard it here last October, 2009.

The heavy hitters were out tonight, elevated. One singer made the next better.

* * *

Emily (blonde hair), a pianist –I wish I knew her last name. Josh tried to tell me in the din. I think of Sarah McLachlan when I met her at 19. I didn’t see Sarah again outside of Lilith Fair for 20 years. Randomly bumped into her (literally) at magazine rack at the airport.

(Ed - May, 2011, 2+ yrs later i bumped into Emily again. Her last name is Schiavi)

* * *
I wished I could have seen Valerie Mize sing tonight. She’s at the Highline where her friend Amber (Paper Raincoat) is singing. Amber’s going places…Japan soon I think. I last saw Talib Kweli at the Highline in December, 2007.

I once interviewed Valerie Mize for a music time capsule and made a video synched to New York photos taken that week for the time capsule.

http://www.youtube.com/user/chungondah?feature=mhw4#Time Capsule

An engineer with Record Plant and Media Sound Studios experience is helping to produce Val’s EP. She’s learning about structure and trimming. That magic touch to channel rich lyrics, phrases and vocals.

* * *

Brendan is the lone comedian tonight. He had the stuff. Sketches morphing, rhythm. He leaves the room on a high with his comedian friend who is somewhat daring with his love of the risqué. His friend is trying to master poetic silence or would that be a pregnant pause?

* * *
Lalo sings Corazón. It’s been a while. He’s been around, but hasn’t sung. He’s the only one who sings in Spanish. He’s been working long hours. “I suppose it could be worse, I could be a comedian,” he quips.

When he gets off stage, I tell him I like his first song line: “I can’t find the words.” He looks puzzled. He usually sings it in Spanish. He laughs after a double take. His lyrics: No puedo buscar las palabras.

* * *
There’s an old man sitting next to me making love to his Jameson and…he sings, unplugged, lights dimmed. I am not really sure how his song goes.

Until tonight, I didn’t know the Closer’s name. Normally he closes with Eighty-Sixed. Kate usually jumps out from behind the bar to sing. But for some reason she is not here. So he changes the words.

I think I even sang. It was Kate’s Manhattan that sang.

I once wrote a song about Kate's Manhattan

“But where is Kate?” he sings.
“Kate’s out back waiting…” I counter.
“She has a test tomorrow” I continue.
“I hope she is alright.” He sings.
“Isn’t she suppose to sing?”

On cue, the new cue, Kate jumps in 3rd voice.

When done, I give Closer a gift from Ireland. Kate will be heading there. The key chain says Póg Mo Thón. Erik Frandsen then gives me his album Antiques: New and Used.

This blog was first written on paper in a New York traffic jam. I detoured to Jones Street to finish.

written at traffic stop about singer who inspires

Later, I’ll take a tunnel where Bruce Springsteen wrote a song. I’ll drive all night...back to Canada. After Jones Street.

"And the magic rat drove his sleek machine over the Jersey state line"

Who am I? I’ve been here for a while. I even know how to spell Kate’s real name. I still have a song in my head. Kate wrote it when she was 19. She has no album, but there's a line…

“Get up get up, your lazy bones, there’s enough time to sleep in the grave.”

I arrive at Jones Street to forget about life for a while.

The piano, it sounds like a carnival
And the microphone smells like a beer
And they sit at the bar and put bread in my jar
And say, man, what are you doin’ here?

Time Capsule:
1946 - Neighborly Art Arrives on Jones Street
http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,934Time

Untitled

We often cope with depression in our own privacy. Anything else would seem like self-pity. Or even self-indulgent.

In Stanley Park, one of Canada's most beautiful places, Andrew Koening, an actor known to many (Star Trek, GI Joe, Growing Pains), the son of Star Trek's Chekov and a former co-star to Alyssa Milano who has done so much for this world (including #Haiti), committed suicide in a place he loved.

He was an environmentalist and was also politically active. He actually cared about the world. He touched even Sarah Silverman's heart.

* * *

Depression is hard to shake. It gets the best of us. It torments the most honest soul.

Today Alyssa Milano made a call for anyone experiencing this - to not be alone. I respect this woman so much, i wanted to write this. Outside of television, i first experienced Alyssa Milano on Twitter. Before any company donated, Alyssa donated $50,000 to #Haiti and challenged any corporation in America to match her. She was there before anyone knew what to do.

* * *

So i guess one needs to lead by example to make her call worthwhile.

I am going to try and do my best to articulate things that have made me very sad, and sometimes i wish i can even be angry but i can't. There's never been a time or place for it.

There is no start or end to sadness. There is no hierarchy. Feelings just randomly hit you.

But i suppose if i were to start...i have lost so many loved ones.

* * *

My youngest brother didn't even live until 30 years old. I watched him die. I held him when he was a baby. It makes it hard for me to experience anyone in our family or among my friends be selfish. My brother was the best i knew. I can't recall him ever complaining in front of me. I lived with him for the last years of his life. I would have gladly traded my life for him to live more. His last email to me, nearly 2 years ago, was Happy Birthday. He passed away on our mother's birthday. His last words were Happy Birthday mom. Before he died, I was in New York like i am now. I am reminded everyday of how i felt back then. I am not the same as i used to be. This is how i am reminded most. I had such a happy day on my birthday two years ago, top of my world (even dancing) and never got that back ever since. One friend actually said i use his death as an excuse for not moving forward as much as i can, and i dont know if this helped or made me even sadder.

* * *

In many ways it was a good, in other ways it was bad, i didnt find out right away that my lover from long ago disappeared while travelling. I didnt know for two years, the news didnt reach me somehow. I haven't dated a lot since my marriage. She was one of only two people i dated. To this day, no one knows what happened to Nicole Vienneau. When you lose someone like this who was so close...it's unbearable. You hear her voice, you recall everything you did, what she did for you. You replay so much in your head. I investigate how a crime could happen, what evil may have occurred to cause her disappearance. There's no closure yet, not for me, her mother, her fiance or her brother. I fight our own government who so far has refused to hand over all information they have for Nicole's family. Information sent to Canada by her family's own lawyers is being with-held by our government due to "privacy laws" of all things. It's taken nearly a year to get some of the case files via the Freedom of Information Act. I am on this case every month. It's never-ending. It takes a toll at times...especially when we must consider what horrible things may have happened to her to solve this case.

* * *

So when someone bitches about their own life, i get mad quietly to myself. I get sad quietly to myself. You have a life.

* * *
Before this i lost two mentors - CEOs i worked with - to heart attacks. They left behind children. I was so upset i couldn't even go to their funerals or revisit offices where we spent so many hours together to create successful visionary journeys.

Four loved ones lost in four years is much.

Before this i lost the first teacher i ever loved. Her name was Rosemary Lanoue. She was my Grade 3 teacher who died in a car crash on highway 401 driven by a priest at our school. She was 25. I think that was my first experience of heart break. I wasn't Catholic then but i showed up everyday with a Rosary praying to Mary thinking there was a connection to Rosemary. God didn't answer.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FScv89J6rro

* * *

Outside of this, i had two major adult hardships. The power of love was painful. One was the separation of my daughter from me - someone i love so much who now lives an ocean away. This is one major reason why i moved from Vancouver, a place i lived my entire adult life for 18 years. I would be reminded too much of our separation. I started writing again - for her - to deal with these circumstances. Everything i write is a time capsule for her.

No one really cares for my personal life. It's not their family. No family member or business partner realizes how lucky they are to even be on the same continent as their children. When i hear people gripe about kids...it's hard. I want my kid here. I only get to see her once or twice (if i am lucky) a year.

Though less than before, i still get separation anxiety. Anyone with her name is special to me. I leave a path for her to find if one day somehow i am cut off.

* * *

It took me years to overcome a situation with a great love. We had known each other for four years - hanging out nearly daily. Then one day, our situation became dishonest and many would say manipulative. It took two years to even recognize it. But so much bigness helped us heal to the point where i think our respect is stronger today. I've known her 10 years. I've known my daughter's mother 21 years. I've known some friends 35 years (and many 10 or more).

Whenever i see any friends hide things from their boyfriends, friends or girlfriends...i can only urge, it's not worth the price if you truly care. People inevitably find out. People closest to you, know you well enough, even if you are not transparent openly. You can't hide the truth. I've lost friends since - whether i like to admit it or not - because deception, or exploitation, is hard to repair. The only time i succeeded took four years. And i knew her long enough, deep enough, to make it worth that painful journey.

* * *
In the past two years, after my brother died, a few people have been extremely harsh on me for the sake of self-interest. I dont get down about it anymore. But closure was never had. I felt cheated, financially and emotionally. These are things i cant really address in public because i dont feel right about calling out people who stooped or hid the truth.

* * *

And yes, in my childhood, i was gravely impacted. I feel I lost my childhood taking care of my brother and sister in a single father family. I went to court during those medieval times when a child was asked to choose between two parents. Only me - no other siblings. There were rumours of who wanted whom and whom was unwanted...these are things a four to six year old shouldn't know.

I grew up fast, before any Catcher In The Rye, and became adult when i was six. And there's not a day that goes by when i dont realize how that period impacted me for life.

* * *

So this sounds too much to take right?

It is. Humanly impossible.

But why am i alive?

I am not afraid of death. I've risked my life enough times to know.

To be honest, i've seen and met enough people who have had it worse than i. Life is precious. Though painful as some experiences can be...life is precious and there are people who lead by example, who inspire by example, who build bridges, who have such a big outlook, the petty is not on the radar. Only that life that is precious.

I feel pain, nearly every night, nearly every day. But i also see inspiration nearly every second day if not everyday. It's not always the person in front of me or next to me...but the power of the internet can access people like Alyssa Milano.

I stay in touch with friends who are around the world being a good ambassador for humanity. Getting things done. Among them...people who lead by example, who dont waste life.

They click, they inspire, they commit to a better world.

That keeps me hanging around. When you lose loved ones, you also feel an overwhelming commitment to live a life a lost one didnt have.

But sure, the pain still stays. Some say it never goes away. And people - selfish people, greedy people, self-centered people, and even angry people - make this pain more painful. We deal with so many people who violate and leave you holding the bag. People who exhaust so much time, money and emotion.

There are better people than this.

So the key thing i find is to withdraw from those who cause pain and gravitate towards people who make things worthwhile.

This is also why i am in New York. This is why i do what i do. And it's also for that singer who makes words and music matter because they create what cannot be seen.