And I'd Still Love You

...here's a new poem.

And I'd Still Love You
written by Ryan Fan Club

You know, you could have only nine toes on your feet
And I'd still love you
You could leave sweaty stains on my favorite seat
And I'd still love you
You could talk all day about boring politics
And I'd still love you
Or you can call all my friends a bunch of lunatics
And I'd still love you
You could pick your boogers then eat them up fast
And I'd still love you
Or if in dodgeball you might always be picked last
And I'd still love you

You see, you could smell like rotten old geezers
And I'd still love you
You might not understand a word of Julius Caesar
And I'd still love you
Maybe you'll never read an RFC Newzinetter
And I'd still love you
Or you might start sleeping in an ugly Habs sweater
And I'd try to find a way to forgive you
You could give me a pet name, like "Turdy-Face"
And I'd still love you
Or you could listen all day to Ace of Base
And I'd still love you
You might have a constant itch on your privates
And I'd still love you
Or you'd spend the whole day helping me find a rhyme for "privates"
Because you love me too.

And that's all.

Another Mother's Day

Another Mother's Day is upon us, a day in which we are supposed to dote upon the woman who gave birth to us, cooked for us, and raised us into the responsible adults we're supposed to be.  Flower shops all go in the black, restaurants have huge line ups from 8am to noon, and the producers of macaroni work double-time to keep up with the supply/demand problems from all the art that will be made by children.

My mother passed away in 2012, and not a day goes by that I don't think of her.

This isn't going to be one of those sappy, miss-my-mommy blogs.  We all know that's not my style. 

I do, however, find the humor in the odd places that I find myself thinking of my mother.  I can't go for a walk downtown without reminiscing about the donuts we'd get at Kreske's Department store or the hours on end she'd patiently wait for me while inside Cosmic Comics as I perused the 25 cent bins.

I can't hear Blind Melon's "No Rain" without thinking of mom.  I know, that's kind of odd, and given that my mother was a fairly conservative woman (this was the woman who asked my wife what a water bong was at the mall while looking at a display of them) if she'd known a bit more about Blind Melon she probably wouldn't have liked them at all.  But, my mom would watch the Coca-Cola Countdown with me Fridays on Much Music, and she thought the little girl in the bee costume was, "just really cute."  So she liked the song. This is also the same woman who thought the lyrics "Stayin' Alive" were, "ah-ah-ah-ah., staying the night, staying the night."  Beautiful.

I'm one of those guys who lets my computer screen saver shuffle through all the photos on my monitor, so sometimes when passing by I might see an old photo of mom and me on there from when I was a kid.  It can be a little odd too, considering the next photo in rotation could likely be Aerosmith, Superman, or even Lexi Belle, but I like the randomness of it all.

My mom made the best pancakes too.  Not too thick, not overly fluffy, and they were stacked in a circular motion.  They were the best.  I've tried and tried, and I just can't make them the same way.  I've gotten close, but I also don't want to crack that code because it gives me something to long for. 

I see a lot of my mom in my daughter Ryleigh.  Sometimes the faces she makes, especially when she smiles - an I mean really smiles - I can't help but see my mom there.

And now that I'm a parent myself, I understand so much more.  I understand how much more the little things must have meant to her, all the little things that growing up I took for granted - and I'm sure many of you did too.  I remember the day I cut off all my long hair, and how my first stop was to see mom and show her.  The look on her face was so excited, and at the time I thought, okay, she's happy I'm conforming to society again, but really I know she was just happy to see her little boy's face again.  Corny, right?  But if you have kids of your own you'll know what I mean.

My mom was pretty awesome.  She worked full-time as a telephone operator, made sure supper was ready by 5pm every day, kept the house and laundry clean, taught me morals and respect, and she even had a wicked rap song in the early 2000s.  My mom could do it all.

So, call your mom.  For no reason at all.  It would mean a lot to her.

- ryan

I Was A Fat Kid

I was a fat kid.

It's not something I talk about overly much, but I was a fucking fat kid.  And I was picked on a lot too.  No biggie, right?  Happens to a lot of us growing up.  Some might even say they are who they are today because of the way they were treated by their schoolyard chums.  Like the caterpillar to the butterfly.  I'm sorry, I can't help but laugh at myself as I type that last sentence.

I was a fat kid with a really short brush cut.  The other kids called me Pugsley, like the fucking fat kid from the Addams Family movie.  I distinctly remember this one time in Grade 7 that one of my friends pointed out how I actually had bigger titties than most of the girls in class.  Granted, theirs hadn't quite come in yet.  So I guess I kinda looked like your stereotypical dyke with an affinity for eating chips and drinking Pepsi.

Grade 8 Graduation.

I'm not telling this story today to garner any sympathy, or help anyone else out.  I can guarantee you that somewhere else is a boy or girl getting picked on for being fat.  And maybe it's their fault or maybe it's not.  That's not my place to say.  I'm not in charge of the world.

I have two children of my own now - two beautiful children who I encourage to be whatever they want to be.  My son Grayson, at four months old, already eats like a champ and is going to be a thick boy.  I predict a future WWF Champion in my family.  My daughter Ryleigh, only four years old recently had her first experience of not feeling like she was beautiful enough at someone else's hands.  Just hearing about it tore me apart.

I was a fat kid.  And I was also a lazy kid.  I liked reading books, drawing Superman comics, watching Star Wars, playing Super Mario Bros. 3, and trading O-Pee-Chee hockey cards.  When I did get my exercise, which was road hockey, I usually played goalie because I didn't want to run.  I was a fat, lazy, pimply kid who could down an entire 2L bottle of Pepsi while watching TGIF.  At the age of twelve I could easily knock off an entire Godfatha pizza while watching the Coca Cola Countdown on Much Music. 

That's when I decided I wanted to grow my hair long, from my early interests in rock music, but I knew I'd probably look like the singer Meat Loaf.  It was bad enough that everyone already called me Pugsley.  I had a hard enough time getting girls to like me without the other boys telling me that I'd likely do anything for love. 

Grade 9 photo

How was gym class, you ask?  Not bad.  You learn how much time you have to let your mind wander when you're always picked last.  I did some of my best daydreaming during gym class.  I even created a few super-heroes while there. 

I was fifteen when I decided enough was enough.  I was sick of people thinking my name was actually Pugsley because they didn't even know me.  I was a fat kid, and a lazy kid, and a shy kid because I didn't want to be seen by anyone.  For all anyone knew, my name really was Pugsley.  They'd hum that theme song, and ironically, I couldn't even snap my fingers to try and lighten up the mood.  So I created a very green diet.

This diet was so green that all it consisted of was Iceberg Lettuce and Lime Kool-Aid.  And that's pretty much all I ate for a few months.  I'm not proud of it, but I did lose a lot of weight in a short time.  People have large worded terms and conditions and disorders for these types of things nowadays.  I never made myself throw up; I hate vomiting more than just about anything.

Now I'm not trying to tell anyone a quick way to lose weight here, because listen to me, doing something like eating only lettuce and drinking Kool-Aid will fuck you up really good.  But you know what?  We live in a really fucked up world.  Nobody ever thinks they're good enough, no matter how truly great they are.  Fucked.  Up.

I had become friends in high school with a girl, Angie, who told me. "Ryan, nobody else can love you until you learn to love yourself."  Not sure if she got that from a Jewel song, but it's something that's always stuck with me. 

All kidding aside, this shirt was fucking awesome.

What really sucks is now, as an adult with kids of my own, I see all these stories about bullying and obesity and it's clear that the real problem is and has always been that nobody teaches their kids to fucking stand up for themselves anymore.  Yeah, I was a fat, lazy kid who got picked on a lot - but I also didn't stand up for myself when I should have.  I didn't know how.  It's one thing to be a pansy-ass and go cry in the corner until you starve yourself and then it's another to do something about it. 

Parents, please, you can teach your kids all you want about anti-bullying but you're really better off teaching your child how to stand up to those bullies and make them go away.  Sure, they'll probably get hurt a few times in the process, but it might just be worth it.  And I'm not talking about them telling a teacher, or writing a poem about their feelings - teach your kids to punch someone right between the eyes.  Hard.  Seriously.

As for me, I'm not a kid anymore.  I'm a little round in the belly, and yet I get more exercise these days than ever.  I've replaced the 2L Pepsi bottles with a few pints of Banana Bread Beer.  I can eat a whole Tata's pizza if I want to, but I like to save some for lunch the next day.  I'll change the TV channel if the Addams Family is on because it makes me emotional.  I still enjoy salad, but ninety-nine percent of the time I put something on it so it's not just lettuce.  I can't remember the last time I had green Kool-Aid, and that's fine.  I've learned to love so much about myself (hence why I have my own fan club), but there's parts of me that I don't truly believe I can ever come to terms with.

I guess some part of me will always be that fat kid.  And I bet you're the same, in your own way.
Fucked up, eh?

- ryan

Ryleigh and Grayson; my two exceptionally awesome kids.