Author: admin

Vimy

The Ridge

Reflection’s wise. Its true insight flies

Throughout our minds and forever binds us

To eternal life that is devoid of strife

Just peaceful thoughts, not restless nor caught

Into that web of war to tread

Not normalcy! Pure madness bred our way to be

Yet as one we brand an ancestral land

As our spirits rise to embrace God’s sky

And shed away our fears.

 –

Our thoughts of home as our mothers roam

Among our graves, their faces brave

To the sadness here of men with fear

Yet for our nation’s prayers we died out there

For a home sweet home, dear Canada

That knowledge bears a passion… flares

Within our hearts, to love; to shove

Our fears aside and run in stride

To get away from there

– 

Over top we’d go to the whistled throes

That plundered us within gun sight foes

Such madness…crushed, our brothers flush

With abject fear with those guns so near

We’d pray in silence for our leader’s guidance

For in them we trust and as Canucks we thrust

So far ahead yet we walked with dread

With the barrage we shudder, our blanket cover

Oh God we’re scared.

– 

The earth it shakes… please mothers take us

Into your arms and away from harm

We’d fall in silence…no pride in violence

We looked ahead for behind ’s our dead

Their faces seared, no longer feared

Just a darkness now with thoughts that bow

To a light that’s gone, forever done

For now it seems our passion stream

Is ebbing some for our time has come

–

We fought for glory, each life a story

With silent breath we faced cruel death

Our youthful brash ‘gainst madness, crashed

Into the mud, the cold, the blood

That Ridge has been a horror scene

A Ridge that bears our lives and shares

Blood curdling chills, then silence… killed

And down we go with our cries now still

Just silent prayers to loved ones shared…so far from there

 –

The death knell rings for our lives and brings

A peace you share from that Ridge out there

Is a peace we paved to our silent graves

And a peace we share in God’s love’s lair

We were men of arms, a brotherhood

And beyond that Ridge, your nationhood

With souls set free our spirits now see

Just peaceful lands and a national brand…your nation‘s free!

Yet horrendous loss this madness cost…Canadians!

– 

Please…remember us

Hues of the Rideau

How I miss the Rideau River.

I lived in Manotick Ontario for eleven years. During that time I felt blessed to be able to explore by canoe my part of the Rideau River, my part of heaven on earth: from the Swan Pub, up and around Long Island, by Watson’s Mill, to the Long Island locks and all parts in between.

The following is a short ditty of how I saw that river over the seasons.

Rideau Hues 

The light green hue from a soft summers rain

Showers, placid, like sheets of shimmering velvet dew

Fall on the river’s course, such ripples faint

Just drops of pure delight…renewed

 

The soft palette hue of a late autumn’s day

Bright sunshine rays of seduction and warmth

Reflect the gold, bright crimson leis

That flutter softly down on the river’s form

 

A deep dark hue, bold indigo, cold

Feel winter’s breath that signals nature’s rest

Before the ice that forms a frigid blanket fold

So fresh, so clean, all senses… crest

 

Symphonic hues spring fresh to brew

For it is nature’s best time now to sing

From a thousand shades of freshness new

With sounds so strong, yet mellow, ring

 

These Rideau hues have now been etched

On my mind’s eye’s screen, God’s perfection, thrust  

For all to see from such nature, stretched

Over a canvass pure on this earthly crust 

 

(c) ShakeyJay 2005

Nature’s Complexity

Hanauma Bay, on the south shore of the island of Oahu, Hawaii, is an extinct volcano crater that has since been filled by the Pacific Ocean. The crater is now a federal fish preserve home to over 450 species of fish many of which are natural only to the Hawaiian Islands.  As one looks down upon this phenomenal bay from high above the wind swept blackened volcanic cliffs, through the clear, clean tropical hues of the protected lagoon, one can witness a spectacle of nature rarely seen in our northern waters.  Hundreds of schools of fish – some large, some smaller – colorful as a rainbow’s pallet after a late noon’s shower – swim to and fro – and up and down, they twist and turn at every nuance of nature’s sound – these schools of fish dance as one incredible formation of pattern and song.

As a lone snorkeler enters the warm, protected water, an amazing event occurs. These schools disperse in all directions, as if summer’s siren announcing another school year completed. Dispersal commencement – darting here and there, some fast then slow – the individual fish as if panicked and scared move chaotically in undefined yet seemingly random patterns – laid bare.

Yet as quickly as they disperse they form again.  Disperse, then form again – and again and again and again – a natural lifecycle – eternal, repetitive, monotonous, beautiful and magical

Could it be

A small, insignificant marginal occurrence

Having dramatic results downstream?

Like a butterfly in Kansas, fluttering in continuous motion

Its innocent natural presence sets the air in rotation.

The air around it becomes unsettled

And drifts and lifts and moves in a complex fashion

With humidity and heat, the air it rises

In cumulus form it passes

And drifts to storm clouds over the distant horizon

And with power and thrust, it grows and grows

Into a chaotic fashion of explosive energy

Funneling up for no apparent reason

That initial innocence is now mature

And a thundering, destructive, emergent passion.

(c) ShakeyJay 2003

.

 

Leadership? Has Anything Really Changed?

With the upcoming US election I thought that this article was apropos – or as the saying goes. Taken from my Thesis:

 

What is leadership? Is it charisma, a magnetic personality, good looks? Can leadership be measured by financial success?  Quick results?  Is it someone who gets things done? The go to guy?  While there are as many definitions to define leadership as there are leadership methods for any given situation, one thing seems to be apparent:  that leadership may be indefinable. It may be a descriptive term for a behaviour that manifests as a result of a problem or as a product of crisis:  Churchill during the Second World War, Gandhi in India, Kennedy during the Cuban missile crisis or even the single parent working two jobs in an attempt to provide the necessities of life for his or her family.  Simply put, a leader is defined as a person who leads, commands or precedes a group, organization, or a country: a person who is in a position to lead (Concise Oxford English Dictionary).

While personal magnetism, charisma and persuasibility may be important attributes they can only take an individual in a position of leadership so far.  Personal attributes and personality traits, characteristics and qualities such as determination, confidence, competence, courage, resolve, integrity, ethics, loyalty, morality, purpose, persistence, vision etc would all seem to be part of a good leader’s makeup.  But who can measure themselves up to those kinds of values and standards?  It is common knowledge that Churchill had his dark side during World War Two and that Kennedy was not the symbol of morality or immune to sexual predilection during his term in office.  President Nixon was also considered a great leader but had many character flaws: “defective ethical standards, lack of commitment for accountability, his preference for seclusiveness, furtiveness and secrecy” (Janis, 1982, page 203).

Perhaps good leadership is part and parcel of many things.  Combined with sound judgment, which is synonymous with experience and training, leadership may imply hard work and solid preparation. Its soundness may be hinged upon resolve and the ability and flexibility to recognize risks, to learn from mistakes, observe, reflect, adapt and act decisively when the going gets tough.  Janis (1972), in his account of the Cuban missile crisis, notes that Kennedy’s successful leadership could be attributed in some measure to the legacy of his failure that was the Bay of Pigs operation.  The lessons learned from that experience were not lost on Kennedy and he went to great lengths to ensure that the same mistakes would not be repeated.

The leadership Kennedy displayed during the crisis was considered exemplary but it exemplified leadership built upon a strong foundation of responsible and vigilant planning and preparation, objective analysis, resolve and a knowledgeable group of advisors who were not afraid to take calculated risks and disagree with one another’s analysis of the situation.  If Kennedy and his advisors had adopted an approach that thought of the antagonists in the usual military stereotypical way it is conceivable that the military advice provided by the Joint Chiefs of Staffs would have won the day.  Fortunately, Kennedy’s strategy of coercive diplomacy emerged the winner.  It was a strategy that hinged upon role reversal – knowing thy enemy – such that necessary restraint de-escalated the situation along the lines of specific and calculated rules of engagement.

A new paradigm of thinking is in order today to address what some would call a “Crucible of Chaos” (Bennis et al) in that the world is so dynamically connected that events and occurrences that are seemingly unrelated emerge to displace old and even relatively new concepts and ways of doing business.  The new paradigm business manager must have the leadership qualities to meet these new challenges: qualities such as competence, good interpersonal relationships (gets along with people), the ability to conform to organizational governance structure and an ability to use his or her own natural style. Really! Is this but another definition of leadership qualities for globalism or is it one of management and organizational construct?  Does leadership really change?

Leaders tend to be visionary, big picture thinkers and strategists while managers lean toward tactical pragmatism and technocracy to sort things out and get things done (Dingle, 1997). No matter how complex the environment, their positions and responsibilities within an organization as complex as government will dictate what role that they should play.

New paradigm thinkers also suggest that a new paradigm of decision-making is required of leadership in today’s complex and dynamic information age: “they are adept at finding the right problem resolution package for the right situation at the right time “ (Bennis et al., 1996, page 23). This sounds too cute for words and alludes to equating leadership and decision making to the standard anthem of the information age, i.e., the right information to the right person at the right time.

Is there anything different between the fundamentals of Kennedy’s leadership and decision-making and that required of the new paradigm thinkers of today?  Has anything really changed?  When the risks are great and the consequences are serious, probably not.  But one thing remains clear: strong leadership remains synonymous with extremely hard work, be it in a geopolitical sense or planning a new business stratagem. The only thing that may have changed is the complexity of the operational environment and the situational awareness that is required of today’s  political leadership.

References provided on request.

SJ

Woodstock West

Woodstock had just occurred this very summer. August 15-18, 1969. It was all the buzz among the hippy counterculture, but even more so with music fans like Timmy and I.  Not to be outdone by the East Coast, some copycat festivals began to spring up here on the wet coast, everywhere it seemed, every weekend, on some non descript farm in the farmland east of here.  Most were abject failures, but it provided hippy food for thought and something to talk about.  After all it must have been tiring for the hippies to talk about the alphabet all day long.  As it turned out that there was music festival planned for a farmstead not too far from this coastal city.  I believe they were calling it “Strawberry Fields,” or something equally profound like that.  Timmy and I decided to check it out.

We drove out to the prospectus.  And just like Woodstock it was automotive gridlock. We decide to park our car a few miles away and walk in. Turned out to be a good plan as many of the autos became bogged down in the mud and sludge.  Yes it was raining, just like Woodstock.  There was a great deal of cussing, yelling, pushing and shoving going on among the various drivers and bikers, especially the bikers. It was automotive pandemonium, definitely a frightful, fitful, love-in man as the fists came out from every which way from Sunday. And this was only Saturday.

We skirted around the problems, found the main gate, paid our fee and walked in.  And what a sight to behold. Utter chaos. The end of the world as we knew it. This must be what Armageddon is going to look like. A sparse, barren, rain soaked, mud caked, garbage strewn landscape. Passchendaele couldn’t have been worse. Probably around 10 thousand hippies all gathered together in one place. All smokin, all tokin, all jokin, all smilin with their coke-ins and love-ins.  Stoned out of their ever lovin minds. And the music hadn’t even started yet.

A tie dye convention was suddenly before us. Young women in their tie dye ankle length skirts, gum boots, tits hangin out of their tie dye tees, smiling, waving, weaving and smokin, laughin at no one in particular.  Bare chested, long haired men, dirty faces, filthy fingers and knarling nails quaffing booze, smokin joints, hauling ass – literally and figuratively.  It was a lice lover’s paradise. And Dante himself would have been impressed but challenged to describe this scene. He must have had Strawberry Fields in mind when writing his Divine Comedy and its depictions of Heaven, Purgatory and Hell, especially hell. Strawberry Fields must have played an important part of his allegorical travels through hell.  Whatever, St John’s volunteers were sure to have a busy two days, and, Johnny on the spots, while well dispersed throughout the grounds, would be sorely lacking with an estimation of about twenty thousand visitors expected per day. Shit everywhere man! And lots of it! I made a mental note to get the hell out of here before darkness set in.

We made our way toward the large staged scaffold. It was impressive: large amps everywhere, lights strewn about the structural framework, drum sets, guitar racks, mics, black staging curtains and men and women scurrying about like ants on the stage itself. Organized commotion in disarray. It looked as if they knew they were well behind schedule. Timmy and I must have looked a sight standing there before the stage watching all of this unfold.  Here we were, two guys with relatively short hair, conservatively dressed, prepared for the inclement weather. We were square. We knew it. Pat Boone like.  Completely out of place…man. We did take a gander at the musical playlist beside the stage.  Never heard of any of these bands. Locals no doubt but it didn’t really matter as no one would be able to hear the music anyway.  And just like Woodstock they would be too stoned.

And just like Woodstock there was the requisite pond. There were already fans playing in the water, peeing in the water, shitting in the water. I decided to avoid the water. There were also tents, conveniently called pavilions scattered willy nilly about the grounds.  Hippy entrepreneurs putting it to the man by charging exorbitant prices for the basic necessities of living in a farmers field with twenty thousand of your closest friends. There were craft pavilions; classes on how to make tie dye pavilions, bong pavilions, know your grass pavilions and not the garden variety type either. And the ever popular oxymoronic sounding pavilion on how to take acid safely.  It was at one of these pavilions that I ran into Sandy, who was already stoned out of her mind. I think she recognized me as she came over to me and stood in front of me looking studiously at me and at me face. Studying every facet of my facial expressions, I could only imagine the contorted psychedelic images rummaging and racing through the dark and warped cornices of her mind as she inspected the blackheads on my cheeks. She smiled, then grinned, then grimaced, all of the time about five inches separating me from her bulging eyeballs with their dilated pupils.

“Hmmmm” was all she could muster in profound conversation.

I asked her if she brought her bodyguard with her, y’know, the guy with the sawed off shotgun.

“Hmmmm,” was all she could say. Still looking at my facial expressions. Head bobbing from side to side.

“Hmmmm” She lifted her fore finger, pointing it at my face, making imaginary circles in the space in front of my face from my forehead down to my chin.

“Hmmmm” then she giggled, started to laugh then in flash, stopped, grinned and ran off with one of her cohorts.

I turned to Timmy and said “Let’s get the hell out of here. There’s going to be trouble”

We left immediately. The hippy lifestyle just wasn’t for us.