Boredom Tyler, Boredom...

That is what’s wrong with the world according to “Rosie” the Beaver flying bush pilot in one of my favorite movies, Never Cry Wolf. The story takes place somewhere in the western arctic and is filmed with a fantastic cast of Brian Dennehy, Charles Martin Smith and some really great actors from the north, Zachary Ittimangnaw as Ootek and Samson Jorah as Mike. In the movie Smith has been sent north to prove that wolves are responsible for the dwindling caribou herds and of course proves that theory wrong, as most southern hypothesis are. There is nothing quite as silly as some brand spanking new MBA trying to tell an old Inuk that the thousands of years of stories and history passed down from generation to generation together with what he has seen and learned for himself during a lifetime of living on the land is all wrong.

Wolves do take their fair share of caribou of course but these are mainly the old and sick or the very young that have become separated from the rest of their group. There is safety in numbers within the caribou as well as human societies.

Back to boredom... Personally I like boredom, it forces the brain to think and develop along a number of different lines and at least keeps mine active, even if it's only in a complaining state. I love being bored out on my deck just watching the world go by and wondering what the trees are thinking. What sites have they seen, what did they think of that deer that stopped by to rub it’s antlers on the rough bark this morning and what do they think of the woodpeckers that rat-a-tat-tat on their sides searching for insects. Are the trees grateful for this intrusion because the birds get rid of parasites or is it only an itch that they are unable to scratch. Strange thoughts, eh?

How about that wave that just hit shore on the beach? How far did it come, how do wave dynamics work anyway, did it travel here from Killarney or perhaps all the way from Christian Island or even Collingwood? What would it think of the artificial waves created at Wet and Wild in Wasaga that we have visited so often and hope to get back to with the grandson next summer?

That eagle that just went over… does it know that It is a sacred symbol or is it just cruising and wondering if it will get to eat today or not. Hmmm… “The Northern Lights have seen queer sights but the queerest they ever did see, was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge, I cremated Sam McGee.” You certainly can’t fault those strange thoughts by one of my favorite poets, Robert Service who no doubt had more than his share of boredom during a lifetime in the north.

What is that youngster thinking while rolling those cars about the room and parking them in the new garage that appeared under the tree last week? Does he realize he is building motor skills and taking early driver training or is he just having fun? Is he perhaps thinking up new ways to sneak up on me and go BOOP! while poking a finger on my leg or butt, a trick that I sometimes wish I had never taught him.

Ahhh… the ultimate sign of boredom… writing silly blog entries in the middle of the night. Working my brain cells or just destroying them from lack of sleep… I don’t know, but at least I’m not bored. Good night all!

(This was typed up after I finished shoveling snow at 3:45am this morning. I came in after 2 hours of clearing white stuff, took a shower, poured myself a glass of the good sherry and worked on this while waiting for sleep to kick in. Guess I'd better get a life, eh?)