So, I am having a very reflective week. We just returned from a very successful weekend in British Columbia helping Variety with their annual “Show of Hearts” telethon ($6.7 million was the final total). I have done a couple of television interviews for the fundraising gala I am speaking for this Saturday in support of the Independent Living Center of Calgary which helps clients with special needs. Thursday, I am speaking at the Southwest Alberta Teachers Convention in Lethbridge and Rick Hansen is the opening keynote. Then Sunday, Darlene and I are leaving for Singapore where I am speaking for the Young Presidents Organization, one of the most elite associations for CEO’s in the world. Time to brag? May sound like it but I am bragging to make a point…we’ve come a long way, baby!

I usually reserve my blogs for my rant-zone and if people didin’t know, 95% of the time, I try to focus on positive thinking both in my work and in my life so my rants are my release valve…one can only take so much. The sad part is how many people are negative 95% of time and believe they not only have a right to be cranky, but they actually call it their nature. I think that’s a copout because our nature reflects our attitude and attitude is a simple choice.

The first week of March will represent thirty-five years since my first appearance on a telethon. I was extremely fortunate to be the Easter Seals “Timmy” (they call them “ambassadors” now) for Saskatchewan in 1977 and represented the province’s handicapped children. After speaking on air a few times, I was brought on to play the drums with a band called Prairie Fire and in five minutes, became an instant celebrity as over 600,000 people were believed to be watching the show at the time. That event is what I attribute driving me to the field of public awareness and ultimately, inspirational speaking. What people couldn’t believe was how someone without arms could not only play the drums with his feet (I am pretty good at it too) but possess such a positive outlook on life. At 16 years old, my nature was shifting from typical moody & angry adolescent to a more cheery outlook…the celebrity thing helped a lot but you may not know exactly why.

When I say celebrity, I am obviously not world famous around the globe but in 1977, Saskatchewan, with a population of under a million then, was my world. Everybody recognized me and I even got asked for autographs! It was pretty cool. One of my favorite changes involved those who I would label, my school “bullies”. Let’s be clear, there weren’t many “bullies”, but I definitely felt disconnected from the bigger high school population. That changed when I got on TV. Honestly, people said they were “proud” knowing me and upon reflecting themselves realized they not only didn’r really “know” me but could have been kinder to me. They just didn’t know how. Whatever I said on TV, I guess I never said at school but more important, my attitude outside of band and choir activities was not negative so much as the disconnected way I felt. Somehow, I figured out that I can alter a person’s treatment of me by how I treated them and more important, how I conducted myself. The theoretical “celebrity” I had acquired made me very aware of how I responded to people wanting to meet me. I soon found that the sometimes forced positive response to people was becoming a part of my nature and eventually, became my default position. Not only did it work with strangers, but it worked at school. People I thought hated me didn’t hate me at all, they just chose to keep away from me for a various personal reasons but comfort zone was a big one. In fact, and more on this another day, I believe the core issue for the majority of young people is lack of confidence so they create a shell, some thicker than others, to protect their fragile egos. My shell was being taken off piece by piece so when I opened up my life, something new took place…empahy. But empathy doesn’t just occurr, it must be encouraged and sometimes, the most effective ambassasors are the victims themselves.

If it’s 35 years since my first telethon, it’s 25 years since Rick Hansen did his “Man in Motion” world tour. I always thought it was funny that the media called Rick “handicapped”. He raced a wheelchair around the entire globe!!! What Rick did was give awarness of people with special needs an extremely positive face. Its interesting how many persons with a disability dislike(d) Rick Hansen calling him one of the “Chosen Ones” in reference to high achieving handicapped folks who don’t represent the majority of the disabled community. By the way, i have that title too. It used to bug me but I realized I should be very proud of what I have accomplished and if people can be inspired by it, bonus!

Don’t worry, I’ll get back to the rants next time, which will probably happen after Singapore (February 29 is the gig). On that note, other than the obvious of going to such an incredible place, getting to speak to this group means a lot. For many, the highlight would be knowing that from a list of 750 potential speakers from around the world, I am one of six chosen for the event and trust me, that makes me feel pretty good. But honestly, what I am most pumped about is knowing that 2,000 Chief Excecutive Officers and members of one of the most influential organizations on the planet who I will address may be so inspired by the event that they go back to their real lives and make a positive difference in their own companies and communities.

I can’t believe how far I have come. Born without arms in small-town Canada, given away at birth after a prognosis of zero quality of life and labelled severely crippled. Then my path takes a turn as I am taken in and raised by elderly foster-parents who provide a no-nonsense approach to life, reminding me that there is no such word as can’t and holding me accountable for my own success. They not only made me independent but made me understand I could make it in life as far as I could imagine and that dreams coupled with action can make the impossible, possible. Just words?

Someone once asked me why I became a speaker. My response may have sounded (still does) pretty arrogant; “I want to change the world”. Well, I certainly haven’t done it by myself and it still has a way to go, but the world is a better place today than when I came into it in 1960. Indeed, I am very proud of my contributions to a better world but my reason for bringing it up is again, not to brag, but to issue a challenge.

So many people feel powerless. They think of themself as one of the “little” people lacking influence, often grieving the loss of their dreams and ambitions. That may be perfectly accurate from one point of view but I want to ask one favour; how about changing the view?

Let’s get something straight right off the top; the death of Whitney Houston deserves respect and condolences to her family and friends. I want to comment on the media frenzy surrounding yet another star dying directly because of addiction and the public’s fascination with it.

When Whitney Houston first became known, just like most people, I was astounded at her talent. Her voice was exraordinary and her stage presence was made for the new video-enhanced world of music. Personally, being a classic rock fan, her tunes were a bit schmultzy for my taste but hearing the power of her pipes was inspiring. That was then. Why is everyone so surprised and saddned by her death? She was a junkie…period! She had the world given to her and she you-know-whatted it away. That doesn’t deserve any respect. It actually should be a cautionary tale that the public’s obsession with celebrity needs a reboot. I know it will never happen but I still want to rant about it.
Darlene and I just spent the weekend where I have the honour and priviledge of being one of several hosts and pitchers for the Variety Show of Hearts telethon in Vacouver. Broadcast across British Columbia, the show has raised over 170 million dollars for children with special needs and it’s 46th edition this year raised 6.7 million during a recession. It really is a special thing to be part of. I did the show for the first time in the 1980′s. I was only on for a few minutes while I played the drums with the most excellent Bill Sample Band to showcase both my talent and ability to overcome having no arms. Clearly, telethons can be controversial as they are often seen as taking advantage of the disabled to raise guilt money from a gullible public. Jerry Lewis’s MD Telethon skirted the line for a long time as he was brilliant at “milking” emotion for a cause which ironically, really needed the help but suffered from their connection to Jerry. It’s probably obvious but I like to think I choose the shows I do very carefully and use my broadcasting background and thirty-plus years of experience in “live” television to help my dignified approach to asking for money on behalf of charity. To get people watching, telethons are known for recruiting celebrities to “pitch” for the cause so since 1977, I have met my share of big names.
Obviously, as a teen and young adult, I was very starstruck by truly famous people like Arte Johnson, Ray Charles and David Foster. The clear bulk of these people were awesome and I felt very priviledged to meet them. But I also met some very questionable individuals (no names here) who acted arrogant, were mean to people around them and expected everyone to kiss their you-know-what. Why? What made these people think they deserve special treatment? We have! Or better put, others have because I learned very quickly that as the cliche goes, they still stink when they poop and nobody gets a license to behave as they want just because they are famous.

In fact, and I am very small “c” celebrity, my fame has made me very aware of how I treat people and I work very hard at honouring those who want to meet me, have a photo taken or even ask for an autograph. What a treat that people want to meet me and I have learned the valuabe lesson that with great power comes great responsibility. I must admit to have embarassing myself in public a few times and never enjoy reliving those moments but they were teaching moments.

My problem with Ms. Houston is she never seemed to cope well and clearly didn’t learn about what a celebrity should act like when she was surrounded by people who must have pointed it out a million times. She should be remembered for her gifts and talents but instead, she makes the illustreous list of celebrity flame-outs who died by direct linkage to some sort of substance abuse and this should be a sign for the public to learn that celebrities are nobody special and all the attention they get needs to be re-evaluated.
Again, the death of Whitney Houston should be mourned and I am painfully clear that this blog may seem disrespectful but my point is Ms. Houston didn’t die on Saturday, she died the moment she chose to disrespect the celebrity she was given by an adoring public. She died with her first hit of crack. She died when she fell for Bobby Brown and his arrogant and decadent lifestyle that extinguished Whitney’s flame in favour of the fire of self-indulgence and disrespect.
I am not perfect but have never claimed to be and I am also not suggesting that fame might not have a negative effect on me if cast onto such a bright light but as we observe all of the tears in the wake of yet another fallen star, perhaps we shuld ask what the tears are really for?

Like ir or not, when regular people become famous, its usually not a surprise. Actors, musicians, athletes comprise a group whose ultimate objective is always…always to make it big. The majority don’t so you’d think that statistic alone would make the ones who do that much more appreciative, and many do. They deserve our adulation. But those who choose poor behaviour (Lindsey Lohan, Brittney Spears, Snooky) don’t deserve a single thing. In fact, the public should make a point of sending a message to these fakes that there is absoulutely no excuse for bad behaviour…ever! Isn’t that a principle that we should all follow?

This coming weekend (February 11-12) is a very special one for Darlene and I and not because of Valentines Day approaching (everyday is Valentines in our life!). It is time for the annual Variety telethon in support of handicapped kids and their families in British Columbia, Canada. I can’t remember which was my first but my guess is early ’80′s and my wife and I have been part of the show since we met in 1991. Actually, the Valentines thing does come into play as the show is always around the 14th and they call the telethon a “Show of Hearts”. If they are accused of taking advantage of the hype surrounding yearly event, they certainly shouldn’t care since “Heart” is the resounding theme, but not of the romantic variety.
Originally called “The Variety Club Telethon”, the fundraiser is organized by Tent 37 aka the BC Chapter of Variety Club. Memebers of the tent have dwindelled over the years but support has done anything but. Thousands of volunteers, organized labour in particular, have given their time and resources all because of big hearts. Global television provides the crew and airwaves to yes, raise money, but also to entertain viewers in the tradition of Variety, the origins of the charity is known for it’s members being from theatre. The show has changed over the years from a huge “live” production including hundreds of BC performers and of course, “celebrities”. I can count some pretty special memories of my life occuring at Variety, one of the highlites getting to know Ray Charles. These days, the show is still “live” but instead of big names being in the house, they perform through video and instead of the Queen Elizabeth theatre that housed over two thousand, the intimate Red Robinson Theatre is the show’s home now and if you are wondering why all the emphasis on seemingly meaningless details, there is a meaning to me.
This week, I was listening to an interview on CBC radio’s “The Current” with Anna Maria Tremonte. I enjoy CBC as I enjoy current affairs so I listen often and I am very aware of the left-leaning bias of their reporting and usually let it go, but this interview bugged me. I won’t go into names and detail but prefer to comment on the tone.

Ms. Tremonte was interviewing a disgruntled Canadian playwright who was whining about how he chose to quit his job as writer in residence with a small Ontario theatre company because a play he wrote focused largely on his bias against the current Conservative government and more specifically, the Prime Minister, Stephen Harper. He claims that government funding for the small theatre company was being jeopradized by his criticisms so chose to “fall on his sword” for the sake of the bigger picture. But he also wanted Canada to know the story and the interview morphed into an angry soliloquay of the death of independent theatre in Canada because of a government who can’t handle citicism.takes away your money if you do. Write or wrong, what struck me is the attitude that because they are “creative” and “cultural”, they deserve taxpayers money to live rather than the obvious alternative. When growing up without arms, my Dad used to say, “There ain’t no limo gonna show up at the back door to take you to life, boy. You’re going to have to walk and it’s going to be a long trip!”
Remember, I am artistic as well, playing music, not painting, and I understand the starving musician conceept and I truly believe that the government should provide funding to artistic and cultural initiatives, but this ‘Wha, Wha, Cry Baby Crap” makes me sick.

This weekend, we’ll be surrounded by ill and/or handicapped kids often battling for their lives. You have parents and siblings who through no fault of their own find themself thrown into the storm where everything stops for the sake of the ill. But what strikes me the most is the clear majority of these people hate to ask for anything and when they receive funding, their humility and greatfullness is inspiring.
So, since they don’t like to ask, I and all my dear friends and colleagues will spend the weekend doing just that…asking for help. Not because they expect it and certainly not because they ever planned to need it. They are real-life victims, real-life fighters and rea-life heroes, not a bunch of whiny cry-babies. Variety…theatre as it should be!

So, a while back, I asked people to send inspirational energy through personal means, be it prayer, meditation or intention to my dear friend, Peter Loster. He was battling leukemia fuelled by radiation treatments for a brain tumor a few years back. Most of us believed he would win but sadly, I must tell you that Cliffy lost that fight on January 15th of 2012. I meant to write about this sooner but anyone that knows me knows I am a bit of a procrastinator, especially if I am having to do something unpleasant. Until today, it was not pleaant to even think about losing who I have aptly described as “my best friend”. Why today? Well, Peter didn’t ask for much in his life an even less in his death but one thing was to not mourn but celebrate and in Vernon, B.C. on Sarurday, January 21st at the Elks Lodge, there will be a party. I love parties so I hate missing them but I am particularly disappointed to not be able to partake in this one. Unfortunately, my work as a professional speaker doesn’t allow me to easily call in sick. In 35 years of speaking to groups, I have missed three gigs and all were weather related. I mention this not to brag and particularly not to excuse my absence from Cliff’s memorial but I felt compelled to do a little writing.

For the majority of people who read my blog, you may right now be thinking…why would I care about this blog? My simple answer is I cared about Peter Loster.

I met Peter Loster somewhere around 1965 and I say “around” because as much as we tried, He and I could not recall exactly when. What we did agree on is it felt like we knew each other “forever”. You might imagine that for Alvin Law, making friends wasn’t easy. That may seem because I had no arms but it was actually because I was very precocious. I wasn’t spoiled since my family didn’t have much but even at 5, I was used to getting my way. Peter was one of the rare individuals who put up with that. Peter and I became fast friends and we played together whenever we could. “Dinky Toys” (die-cast metal cars, trucks, etcetera) were common, as were Hot Wheels. One of our favorite games was pretending to be pilots “flying” in my Dad’s Rambler but our absolute favorite was table-top hockey. I got a game for Christmas and it was awesome. It had metal players and removable plastic sticks that we would use a lighter to put a bend in the stick for harder shots. It came with two teams; the Montreal Canadians and Toronto Maple Leafs. Pete loved Boston so he played the Leafs as Bruins and I played Montreal and that’s when they became my favorite team. You can imagine the rivalry was part of our lives and was both heated and respected. What remembering that game reminds me of was how accommodating Peter was. He knew I couldn’t play real sports so he accommodated me. One of our favorite activities then continued into our adult lives and some of the most fun Cliff and I had together was hunkering down with some beverages, cigars and video game battles in each other’s basements. In fact, the day of my Mom’s funeral in March ’96 ended with a fierce battle of rally car racing in Peter and Sharon’s basement in Yorkton.
Rather appropriate then that Peter asked for a party not a funeral…they aren’t much fun, are they? Speaking of fun, there isn’t enough time today to recall all the special moments and creative events that Cliffy either planned or participated in. Shoot The Shit…a personal favorite. Pardon the grammar but this was a game Pete invented that involved two porcelin toilets (used), four toilet plungers wrapped with duct tape so they wouldn’t easily bounce when striking the toilets, which were placed twenty to forty feet apart and players would toss the plungers at the toilets with the aim of landing and staying in the bowl. If you did it handle down, you got bonus points. I have often told people our home town was boring…proof! But did we have fun.

I think of all the places he lived and who came to the best ever parties. The roof of Haus Nissan on Broadway (the old one); Seradaville. Hell, Cliffy lived with me and a biker chick in Saskatoon in 1983 and just about got my beloved Green Hornet Sportabout Station Wagon ruined after borrowing it to Deejay a dance at a remote reserve in Northern Saskatchewan.
He was my best man at my wedding, twice. I was part of his, once. He was more than a friend…he was a brother. In fact, we used to borrow Johnny and Lenny’s (Pete’s older brohers) albums, sneak them down to the celar on Darlington and pretend to be rock stars…Creedence Clearwater Revival our favorite. We both dreamed of who we’d be, what we would do and where we would live and of course, we thought it would be forever. As we learned last week, that would not be true. Strangely, it reminds me of something Cliffy loved to do and it bugged us all. He’d be the life of the party (he was good at that) and then he would just disappear. Usually walking, at all times of year and usually after midnight, he would just leave. He’d never warn anyone or say goodbye…he’d just vanish. Somehow, we knew he was alright and no matter what, he’d always end up at home.

Well Cliffy, you did it again. You were the life of the party, you had enough and you split. But we all know you are home, safe and sound.

Cheers Brother!

So, it’s a little late for a “New Years” message but I have been a bit distracted. We had a very busy home over the Christmas holidays as our niece, Marcie (on Darlene’s side) and Rob got married on December 30th in Calgary. I have to be honest that I have a personal stigma affected by years of going to weddings that makes me question a winter wedding but was I wrong. It was beautiful! The ceremony was at a 100 year old plus Baptist church and it was all decked out in Christmas bling…stunning. But this blog isn’t a wedding log, it’s about the undercurrent that accompanied this complex event.
I have written before how fortunate I was to have nothing but happy memories of Christmas as a child growing up in Yorkton, Saskatchewan. When I met Darlene, we celebrated our first Christmas in Regina.in 1991. We had a big family dinner and minus the drama of sharing a child with an ex, it was a memorable holiday. We were so poor. We’d both sold the farm for divorces that led to our meeting. We didn’t have any money to buy each other presents as any spare cash went to gifts for my son at his mom’s place. I actually cashed in bottles so I could buy tickets ($10 each) for Handel’s Messiah at a local church. I was embarassed until Darlene broke down in tears and confided it was the best Christmas she ever had…ever! I thought it was so romantic until I found out her truth. Darlene’s family Christmas’s were simply horrible. Without getting into detail and wth absoluluely nothing personal, they were a big family with few resources and that made Christmas a time of stress instead of celebration. They were not alone. It is truly sad that so many people rue the entire Christmas season and it actually makes me fill a bit guilty. I know that seems silly or perhaps, “predictable” but I mean it. I am also very lucky that even though I have no control over millions, I could affect a change in Christmas for Darlene and boy, did it work!
It took Darlene two weeks to decorate our home for Christmas this year and with no arrogance intended, House & Gardens magazine could have done a spread on the stunning displays. But they aren’t just “stuff”, they create a “feeling” that just screams of “how lucky are we”? We even host a Christmas party for our Calgary chapter of the Canadian Association of Professional Speakers (CAPS) as being speakers, we are mostly self-employed so no big office celebrations for us. We had almost sixty people and the mood was one of warmth and appreciation. Then it happened!

As the 25th of December approached, the obvious came out. A family wedding for Darlene’s side of the family that were coming to Calgary from all across North America and Christmas would be smack dab in the middle of it all! It semed like a recipe for disaster and it could have been…but it just wasn’t. From the first arrivals on the 20th till they all left on New Year’s day (following yet another party the evening before at, yes, our house) there was not one single issue! Not a single disagreement, not a single negative tear shed, not a hateful word spoken, although the card and dice games got a bit heated! As we sat in the vacuum of silence on January 1st, Darlene looked at me and said, “We’ve had a lot of memorable Christmas’s but I’ll remember this one forever”. It as a truly inspiring, if not exhausting, couple of weeks and I mention all of this for a reason.

WE ALL HAVE A CHOICE!!!!

Life can be so challenging and as we enter 2012, the doomsdayers are already slinging their negative arrows in every direction! Europe’s going to go broke! Iran’s going to start World War 3! The economy will fall apart and the Second Great Drepression will hit! Just listen to the American news channels as they froth at the mouth for the next 11 months leading up to the Novemeber elections! NEGATIVE, NEGATIVE, NEGATIVE!!!

NEGATIVE IS A CHOICE!

NOT BEING NEGATIVE IS ALSO A CHOICE!!!

This is not a motivational speaker without arms being predictable. This is a challenge to you! I challenge all of you to choose a positive approach to 2012. No matter what your excuse (I have them too!), choose a positive lens to view the world. I heard something on the news about the Mayan calender. If you don’t know, the Mayan calender ends on December 21st, 2012 (I can just imagine the doomsdayers this December). The comment that struck me was; “While some view this as the end of the world, others view it as the beginning! The beginning of a new calender and a new world!” I like that…a lot!
Make 2012 the best year you’ve ever had. Don’t fall into the pit of negativitiy but if you do, you can dig your way out. Anything is possible and this past Christmas was all the proof I need.
By the way; Thanks you Reitsma’s for making this year’s Christmas the best! I love you all!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!

I just have to address this crap about appropriate greetings this time of year before I send a heartfelt thought about this Sunday. Having been born without arms, I have had more encounters with human behaviour than the bulk of society and I have been though every conceivable debate about politically correct BS. I find it personally amusing that in my 50 years, I have been “crippled, handicapped, disabled, physically challenged” and what’s next…who knows. Maybe they’ll call us “Occupied With Unfairness” so we can jump on the bandwagon of inequity. This hypersensitivity to offending someone has turned into it’s own offensive behaviour.

I find it intriguing that we have held onto the notion that Christmas is purely religious. I have no intention of getting into a debate on theology but I believe that it is the “Christian” thing we’ve gotten hung up on and in the process fail to respect a simple fact…Christmas has morphed. I am sure that 2011 years ago, followers of “Christ” weren’t thinking, “Let’s Go Shopping!” I am sure that when Santa Claus came along, nobody was thinking, “Let’s get in on the action and compete with that Jesus guy”. I am very certain nobody ever schemed to make Christmas the most stressful time of year…period. For many, Christmas is not a merry time. For reasons Dr. Phil can’t even explains, Christmas for too many people shines a spotlight on family disagreements, fights and alcohol fuelled misery that just stays with people. Not me. I can’t remember a single Christmas that wasn’t splendid while growing up. We were Christian and for us, it was about church (singing in the choir was a high point for me) community and yes family. We never fought and it certainly wasn’t because my parents were tea-totallers. I vividly remember my Dad getting several bottles of whiskey from his clients at International Harvester. In fact, those bottles were oftned cracked at the shop on Fridays in December for a couple of belts to end the week; not exactly politically correct behaviour today, huh?
So, I can hear the critics; that was a long time ago and things have changed! Yes they have and most of that change has been awesome but some of that change has been driven by a small group of acttivist buttheads who are the culprits behind “Happy Holidays”. MOST people want to say “Merry Christmas”, MOST kids want a Christmas Concert. MOST non-Christians are totally okay with CHRISTMAS! We have Jewish, Muslim, Atheist and other non-Christian friends who were at our Christmas party last weekend and we “ALL” had a blast!
CHRISTMAS IS FOR ALL OF US and for those who are bothered by that, get lost. Go stick your head in the snow, or sand and leave the rest of us alone so we can properly celebrate an event that should be about everything we have in common…being human. The squeeky wheels who drive the politically correct machine do not represent the status quo and yet they get to set the agenda. The only way to stop these disgruntled, angry and humorless souls is to ignore their agenda and proudly annouce yours.

Every store I have been in lately has proved my point. Every sales clerk says. “Happy Holidays” to which I reply “No. Merry Christmas!” and intriguingly, they usually respond with “Yes, Merry Christmas”.
Please remember that nobody cares more about people than me and for 35 years, I have championed advocacy for folks like me but here’s the point: I am not “disabled”, not a “Canadian”, not even a “Dad” or “Husband” or “Son” or “Brother”, etc. I AM NOT LABEL!!

I am a child of the universe and I celebrate my life…everyday. I simply wish we could all just lighten up, take in the sights and sounds and smells of this time of year and above all, respect people who want to focus on what’s right about our world and not wrong!

From my wife, Darlene, son Vance, and yours truly, please accept my sincere wishes for a bountiful and harmonious 2012 and indeed…
MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!!!!

So, I have been ignoring my own blog for a while and my excuse of being remarkably busy is a legitimate, if not a lame one. In the last couple of weeks, my wife and I spent a few days with some of our favorite people at the annual national convention for the Canadian Association of Professional Speakers and I had a great time workng for Conoco/Phillips in New Mexico, although I could have done withtout the freak snowstorm. I wanted to take a moment to those unaware that this blog is what I call my venting zone. During my speech, I rarely rant but not because I don’t have stuff to rant about so I save that for here. Honestly, I am 90% positive 90% of the time but sometimes, stuff makes me mad and today, I am furious. I didn’t start out that way and am, in fact, feeling quite festive with Christmas quickly approaching. While in the car this morning, I tuned in talk-radio and I hear a clip from the website of envirnmentalist, David Suzuki. To paraphrase (go to the David Suzuki Foundation website and see for yourself) Suzuki is on camera “live” from the North Pole where he basically asserts that Santa will be homeless and have to move his workshop and home or Christmas will cease to exist. I could just picture young children seeing this threat and imagine their response when Suzuki says, “So please send money for Santa. Of course, he won’t get it but our foundation will use it to Save Santa’s home”!
If this was Rick Mercer satirizing as he is so good at doing, I could see the humour and frankly, I have a great sense of humour but I believe Suzuki has crossed the line and I want to call attention to it! Send money to David Suzuki or Santa’s finished! Has Suzuki become a Soprano? Obviously, adults can decipher the crap behind such a sick idea, but this is clearly aimed at children. Is that not truly pathetic?
So I can pretty much picture the polarized lines forming here. Let me state I love our planet. We have been recycling and composting in our home forever. We belive in a good debate and we believe there is a problerm but who caused it and how is not certain and people like Suzuki use fear tactics like terrorists use IED’s to wreack havoc on an insecure and somewhat ignorant society. They remind me of the bullies I had to tolerate for years of my life and like the bullies, Suzuki has sunk to a low that should not be ignored.
Please send an E-mail to the contact page on Suzuki’s website objecting to this tasteless scam meant to monger fear and paranoia amongst our youth. It really is amazing how such a great Canadian can morph into such a pathetic huckster. While I am at it, please put out the word to anyone you know who may hire speakers and boycott Suzuki just to prove that one can be passionate but when one resorts to this, he should be censored.
Shame On YOU David Suzuki!!!

So, my Mom would have called it a “tempest in a teapot”. Since my last blog and the coincidental appearance on the Charles Adler radio show heard across Canada, it seems I stirred the pot, which was absolutely my intention. What I did not intend was any offence, although a couple of replies to my blog were offensive and personal. No worries, living life without arms tends to either take away your strength or embolden it so my thick skin will tell you which choice I made.

On that note, bullying is a highly personal matter and every single person, be they the victim, their family members or importantly, the bullies themselves have a point of view. I had one note that was stupified that “anyone” would bully someone without arms. I also had a note that suggested I was never bullied and I make up stories to support my ideas. I want to set the record straight; I was definitely bullied. It began in fifth grade and was subtle in that most of it involved exclusion. Where I would be invited to participate in games at recess or after school, the invitations were reduced then ended. Where students felt empathy for me, many started to get laughs at my expense. I was handicapped, indeed, but I believe other elements added to my problems. Unlike many of my male peers, I wasn’t athletic and since that element tends to define boys growing into young men, I was also labelled a wimp. I had buck teeth, so boys (girls never did anything with the exception of saying no to dance requests at sock-hops) would exaggerate big teeth and snort as I went by. I remember several boys who I thought were my friends, turning into my enemies and athough they were mean, they didn’t hurt me, with one exception. After school in sixth grade, I was lured behind the school where five boys surrounded me, one punched me in the gut and after I fell to the ground they all kicked me a few times (but not in my face), laughed and ran away. I was obviously upset, as were my parents, but I begged them not to do anything as I believed it was a one-time event designed to send a message not to mess with them.
There were countless episodes over the next several years, but none of them violent. Did I put up with them because I knew that forty years later, I’d be a speaker addressing methods of surviving bullies? Did my parents choose to remain silent because they didn’t love me? Did these bullies become world-class criminals making careers out of intimidating and harming weaker people? If I could go back would I desire re-living those events? Of course, categorically “NO” to all questions. But when I look back at those days and force myself to be objective, I was such a predictable target. It is completely unfair that weaker people are taken advantage of in society but it is real.
My friend, Barbara Coloroso, famous author, speaker and anti-bullying advocate espouses an admirable theory of creating safe and caring schools and without question it is worth pursuing and is a highly positive response to a very negative domain. The only problem is reality. The real world is cruel and unforgiving. My parents knew this and although they hated when I would come home crying, their mantra was always the same, “This too shall pass!”. One of the new movements revovles around a similar notion. The “It Gets BetterProject”(www.itgetsbetter.org)
is identical to what my parents preached and points directly at empowering victims encouraging them to hang in there, be strong and things will get better. I had someone write me and suggests that strategy is “laughable”.
Well, this blog is all about clarifying that we all have our point of view and one can hardly argue that all involved in bullying want it to stop. But one last thought.

I quit a dream job in radio in 1981 to begin speaking to young people at schools, first in Alberta, then Saskatchewan, Canada, North America and indeed around the world. I never would have guessed that I’d be over 50 and busier than ever. On Wednesday, I will speak to a corporate audience for Dell Computers at the University of Texas Conference Center in Austin. The meeting organizer heard me speak at her high school in Omaha, Nebraska in the early 90′s. Her meeting’s theme is directed at reducing people’s excuses in an environment that has more challenges than ever before. When considering speakers, she thought of me. That’s almost 20 years ago! I am not bragging but I am saying people remember my story for various reasons, even shallow ones like playing the drums with my feet but what they say is they remember my personal strength, perseverance and passion for helping people find theirs.
I never revel in a teen suicide and the conncection to bullies and I never, ever suggest that people, including parents, should “just get over it!”
My message is really quite simple; you get one life, fair or not, and what you do with it is ultimately yours to bear and all I ask is for people to consider the choices, rather than excuses, I made that have ultimately made me the strong and balanced person I am today.