Dat Voice: My Life and The Four Seasons

We had a radio station that played nothing but oldies music when I grew up. Those were good times.

Actually, I tuned it to Oldies 1150 AM out of Hamilton, and 1050 Chum from Toronto, and from there I bounced back and forth. Every Sunday, Oldies 1150 would play nothing but Elvis Presley from 8am to 9am, and then nothing but Beatles music the following hour. That was some sweet music to listen to as you're putting on your Sunday best, leaving your room, being told by Mom and Dad (mostly Dad) to wear something else, returning to your room to change, and trying again.

I did have one pet peeve with Oldies radio stations: Mmm-bop music. At least four times a day, I could count on both radio stations to play The Four Seasons, and each time I could feel my eardrums liquify under the mind-numbing shrill. I'm sure Frankie Valli is a nice guy, and the Four Seasons are a lovely bunch of guys, but the plastic mmm-bop music of the fifties drove me insane. Why is my foot tapping to "Sherry"? Since when could I sing the words to "Big Girls Don't Cry"? Why do I love what I hate so much?! AHH!



Perhaps I should write a 50's mmm-bop song to exorcise my childhood demons? At least I would become part of the madness that engulfed my pre-teen to teenage years, and my song would live in the memory and liquified eardrums of another young soul.

"Sheerrrr-rrrrrr-rrryyyy ba-aa-by, Sheeerrrryyy, won't you come out tonight...? Oops, turn off speech to document application...!"

As you can see, I'm a tad conflicted, if not confused. Some of my fondest memories growing up revolved around Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons: My first day at high school, my first car, driving to the Dairy Cream to hang out with friends are all great times and the "Jersey Boys" were involved in some way. Maybe mmm-bop music isn't all bad; compared to today's stuff, I would prefer the Four Seasons for its originality, harmonies, and lack of auto-tuned wackiness.

Play it again, Frankie ^_^ Wait, what did I say? o_O

Speaking of music, I launched another YouTube channel this spring. I upload nothing but music videos on it, and so far the reception was pretty good. It's called "Philhazmusic", and if you click on the link it will take you to the channel page where you can listen to what I posted so far and SUBSCRIBE for more updates. It's not on the level of Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons, unfortunately, but I hope you enjoy it.

Let's Get Personal

Valentine's Day is just over a month away, and I am already feeling its effects. In past years, I did alright, and managed to hold together through all the Valentine's Day status updates and date night pictures. There were times, however, even living on Earth was very difficult, and I had to fall off of it for awhile.

One of the darkest moments of my life occurred over a year ago when I overheard my Dad speaking with some of his friends. They asked about me and what he could see was happening in my personal life. He noticed "the light went out inside of me"; I stopped smiling, goofing off, being ridiculous, and started talking less and withdrawing more compared to when I was in university surrounded by friends and immersed in having a good time. I can't approximate when I started feeling this way, but I guess 2010 is when things started unravelling.

Aside from work and blogging, I returned to doing the things I used to enjoy like music and now filmmaking (YouTube). I understand that a girlfriend or the mere title of "in a relationship" will not bring the happiness I am desperate to find. It's not a problem with Valentine's Day. Actually, it feels like an everyday problem. When I volunteer or play sports, for example, you don't notice it as much because in those moments I can become someone else, and spend less time being Phil Wood.

In conclusion, Valentine's Day is one of those days like my birthday, Christmas, and New Year's Day when being Phil Wood is worth sleeping through.

This Blog Presents Making Presents

I stood in the Wal-Mart arts and crafts aisle for twenty minutes last week and stared at pages of card stock, glitter containers, glue sticks, lace borders, stencil kits, coloured pencils, and paint brushes. I envisioned earlier that day I could make a gift, and inspiration and ability would just flow from my hands onto the page, and this gift would be the most fantastic present any person could ever receive ^_^ Instead, as I stood while dozens of shoppers flew around me, I realized that...

Don't wait until it's the LAST MINUTE. Set aside time to
MAKE that PERFECT gift ^_^

"I'm in BIG trouble."

It was years since I last constructed a present for someone that wasn't my mother. Sidenote: Bill Cosby was right; Moms love whatever you make for them. That is why boys and girls go crazy saving money and buying exquisite and wonderful presents for their mothers ^_^ I think that's cool! Something happens, though, when you have to get something for Dad. From my experience and what what I learned they usually get a candy bar, a golf putter, maybe some golf balls, an afternoon out to a sports bar or restaurant, and more often than not a phone call from their kids. Where am I going with this again? Oh yeah, making gifts. If you were small and you made something for your parents, then you probably remember running home to show them what you made, yet more than that you can't forget how happy you felt when you gave it to them.

I made a round brown paper cutout, and in is I pieced together a family portrait of the five of us out of colourful bits of construction paper and clear orange primary school glue (Elmer's wasn't released to the public schools until two years later, so we settled for clear glue that came in a clear plastic bottle with a spout that look like lipstick. I gave it to Dad, and he kept it in his work office for the next twenty years. He now keeps it on the sofa in the master bedroom ^_^ It is a weird little thing; I drew glasses on my Dad's face, and I have a black rectangular piece of grade C paper for hair.

Fast forward twenty-five years and now I'm doing almost the same thing for someone else, without any clue of how I should start o_O There are ways around this creative conundrum that don't involve brick laying or glue that doesn't stick (Oh, the stories I could tell about Elmer's Glue). You can author a poem, write a song, bake a cake, mix a CD, generate a YouTube playlist (maybe), or paint a picture ^_^ What is more, if your heart is in the right place, then I'm sure that special someone will appreciate it all the more. Plus, it will be a complete SURPRISE! Unless, you told that person already o_O ...I'm sure they will love it ^_^

If you have a story you don't mind sharing, feel free to leave it in the comments below!

Jumbo

It killed him.

He told me how he took my advice, and told her how he felt. He told me how they met at their usual spot every Wednesday for lunch, and how she sat in complete silence as he told her. He told me how she said nothing when he finished. He told me how he asked her what she was thinking. He told me how everything he said made her cry.

Her tears hit him like a left hook. It carommed off his cheek, reverborated to his molars, split his jaw, shot up his skull, shook his brain, buckled his knees, and crumpled his lifeless body to the floor. I knew that feeling, but he said he could take it: He made adjustments to the pattern, and thus became adjusted to the pain. He could take the punishment, the repeated shots, and the constant punches. He wasn't in love, he was punch drunk.

It killed me to watch him get up from his stool with his eyes swollen shut, his nose bloody and broken, and his jaw enflamed with two teeth missing. Between pitiful gasps for any kind of air, he would say "Sheesh da one, Filff. I can doo ith! Sheesh da one! I nooo ith!" He wanted the same thing I did, so I let him go, "Fine, finish the job." I said. Before leaving the corner, he turned to me to wink as best he could with the one good eye he had. "Noo plaablem!"

Now, here we were. I found him still sitting in the chair later that night. His parents called me asking where he was, and I told them I had an idea, nevertheless I would call them once I found him, and drive him home. There was so many wrappers on the tray in front of him; if I didn't come earlier, the manager said, he would eat the entire menu in another hour. Without saying a word, I slinked into the booth and sat there across from him. Mixed with saturated fats and absolute sorrow, his tears flowed from his face and onto the paltry board the fast food joint called a table. I watched him cry for a couple of minutes, before a pair of eavesdropping teenagers in the lineup began whispering about us. "With the way he's going, I wonder if there is anything left." One of them said, which got both of them chuckling. I knew we had to leave, and sadly so did he. As I put my hands on the table to rise from the booth, he stop sulking and asked, "Why duss no one luv me?" I knew there was an answer for him somewhere. Such a question followed other men right into the grave, but other men were not like him. He would die that night if he didn't know.

"I love you, Phil." I said. "We all love you, man."

His sulking quieted down, but he kept crying. Reluctantly, after I rose from the booth, he followed me out of the restaurant leaving a ton of crumpled wrappers, a bewildered manager, and a pair of laughing teenagers behind.

As I opened the trunk to get a pair of water bottles, he sank into the passenger side of my car. When I closed the hatch, I received a text message. It was her: She "heard from friends I was back in town, and since she wasn't doing anything maybe we could..."

I got in the car, gave him a bottle, and put mine in the cup holder.

"Was dat her?" He asked.
"Yes, it's her." I replied. We stared out the car as it started to rain.
"She alweez lucked at yuu." He added.

"Wha dit yuu say?"

Celtic Football Club & My Run-ins with Jerks

Aaron is going to love this...

Yep, Aaron will definitely go bananas when he sees the
Celtic Football Club 125th Anniversary
Commemorative badge on my blog

I wore one of my Celtic track jackets today. After work, I walked to the grocery store, and while I was in the checkout line the man in front of me turned around, looked at me, and said:

"You know Celtic is the worst team in the world!"

The "offending" jacket o_O

Now, I'm well aware of Glasgow Celtic Football Club's current troubles, however what surprises me is random Canadians feel the need to come after me about it. This happens every so often whenever I wear this particular Celtic jacket: Yes, even in Canada, customers in Tim Horton's hassle me, tellers at the bank near the office question me, and now a tattooed bodybuilder wearing a tank top feels compelled to inform me of my "wardrobe malfunction".

There isn't much a person can do between standing in line at the grocery store, and hold a basket full of food. What was I to do at that moment: Take the jacket off and reveal a Rangers shirt underneath (that would be funny LOL)? I would be lying if I told you the urge to respond wasn't there. As he told me about Celtic's ineptitude, I assumed "he is a Toronto FC fan and they know EVERYTHING about soccer!" or maybe "someone died and made him a fashion critic"?

Wait a second, if they are so terrible, how are they the defending Scottish league champions? I am not a fan of Celtic by any stretch, yet even I know that! I just wore this jacket because it was Wednesday o_O LOL

Finally, in the three seconds following the man's insult, I went to a different aisle; firing back or stating a fact wasn't worth my time, and I just wanted to go home, and put the cold stuffs I purchased in the freezer. I did take a small measure of satisfaction in being out the door ahead of that guy.

The whole event riled me up, but as I wrote this out I couldn't help but smile and laugh a little bit, too. ^_^ Thanks for reading!

I AM NOT GIRL CRAZY: Something About BRUNETTES ^_^

Taylor Swift sporting BRUNETTE hair ^_^

I tried writing this to Van Halen; I realized fifteen minutes later that will never work >_< PANAMA! (cue EPIC air guitar solo) PANAMA!

I lived for almost thirty years now, and the most common hair colour I noticed, since I was fourteen, is BRUNETTE. There are many different shades of BRUNETTE: Chocolate BRUNETTE, BRUNETTE with highlights, BRUNETTE with one or a pair of silver swooshes coming down with one on each side of the face... ^_^ What? Oh yeah o_O However, various shades of BRUNETTE are not what this blog is about, at least not today...!

I started this week talking about BRUNETTES because, for over half of my life, most of the significant friendships and relationships I had growing up were with BRUNETTES (Not all at once, mind you, or a big time amount). For example, I go back to a story about how I met one of the first good BRUNETTE friends I had in high school. Now, I was shy and since it was my first year of high school, I didn't know enough about food to know that if I ate too much I would become HUGE. On one particular September lunch period, this one girl walked up to this loner goofball kid (PHIL), who was sitting alone at a desk facing the wall by the garbage cans, and she asked him if he wanted to sit with her and her friends at an actual table in the cafeteria. I was reluctant at first, but after a day or so I eventually became a regular at the big table. Sure enough, the shy kid also began making more friends, most of which are still around today; whether he is still a goofball is up for debate o_O Nevertheless, I still appreciate what that girl did for me in high school. Plus, that was when I started thinking and praying about finding someone like her to build a super-meaningful, no-cut contract life with ^_^ (For another story about a BRUNETTE who helped change Phil's life, click on "Dear JULIA"! Do it after you finish reading this, though.)


No, I did not and still don't go out and check out only BRUNETTES, because that would be stupid and narrow-minded. There is a whole rainbow of super awesome girls out there: You must want to treat each of them with respect, and then there is a strong possibility one will call you her "Mr. Right". In addition, I was only fourteen at that time, so I had a lot to learn about being a dude, what ladies look for, and why it's important not to burp in public. Not quite a tangent: When you read or write about burping, do you feel the need to burp, guys? Social burping, which is not unlike social yawning. Alright, moving on...

In hindsight, I notice that in specific and well-timed moments in life, some of those really good friendships I had were with BRUNETTES! I also noticed, even when I was a goofball or I did idiot-level things in life, they were patient, really good listeners, hospitable, and had lots of friends. STEREOTYPE BUSTER: With that said, I know lots of girls of various hair colours who are also patient and hospitable, and I thank them for putting up with some goofball characters, and for people as ridiculous and wacky as me. However, there are some BRUNETTES that aren't so good at being virtuous, and we need to pray for them, too.

It was possible, in that high school story, to stay or leave that desk by the garbage cans, and sit at another table with a different bunch of folks, or maybe the same group. However, all of the misconceptions I had sitting at that desk would go with me, and I wouldn't know as much about people as I do know. When you do something 'uncommon', take that extra step, and do something kind for someone, you never know what's going to happen, but both you and that other person will not be the same again.

So, the perfect woman for Phil may or may not be a BRUNETTE, but over the years I learned the perfect woman for Phil is patient, a really good listener, hospitable, and someone I should honour and respect at all cost.

Dear BRUNETTES, Stay awesome...and tied for first. Thanks, Phil ^_^

Valentine's: The Day After

So, how are you? Are you feeling better, or are you feeling worse? Unfortunately, "Retweet Taylor Swift" Day didn't catch on as I hoped, but western societies are going to give Valentine's Day another go next year around the same time.

According to various news media outlets in my hometown, some consider Valentine's Day the most hated and overrated of the annual holidays; there are different names for Valentine's like the pitiful "Single Awareness Day", violent "Anti-Valentine's Day", or "Let's All Laugh At the Procrastinators in the Lineup at the Florist Tonight" Day. Alright, I made that last one up -_- Nothing gets by you, does it?

LEIGHTON MEESTER: Wait, that's not Taylor Swift? o_O

The general consensus is that because 2/14 is Valentine's Day that means a growing population of the disenchanted and disheartened has a "right" to be angry. After all, we did everything a "nice guy" or "good girl" is supposed to do, according to Gossip Girl: Do the exact opposite of whatever Blair does at the start of each episode, more or less (Hi Leighton Meester! ^_^ Call me; we'll go bowling! o_O). Why are we still single? If those relationship books, trashy magazines, and internet "how to be happy" guides had any value, then by the time a dude finishes reading one of those he would already have a boss lady, er, girlfriend sitting beside him. Like the good turret in the video game, Portal 2, we do everything we are asked to do before being tossed into the incinerator while "junk turrets" get hitched, right? Wrong! We are neither turrets nor suckers for taking everything we read in Cosmo as gospel (alright, most of us aren't o_O).

I can stop looking at Taylor Swift any...time...I...WHAT?! Oh yeah, my BLOG!

It's 2/15 today, and around now most of the us, whom I shall term The Unhitched, are thinking about how snarly, sullen, or selfish we were the night before. We made decisions last night that we would not make on any other day because it was Valentine's Day, and we didn't want to feel left out. How many of us made angry decisions, sad decisions, or selfish decisions? Think about that 'Unhitched' person then, and the person you are now: There is a slight chance those are two different people! Both are alone, without answers, or forever asking "why?", but the difference between them is that for one day the former, 2/14 you was willing to settle because it was 2/14, and the real, latter, 2/15 persona deserves so much better: Both, rather all of you do! I recognize I could be overgeneralizing a whole host of people, because there are some genuine and authentic people meeting on Valentine's Day and hitting it off ^_^ If you fall in this category, I extend my congratulations and best wishes to you (You wouldn't happen to know if Taylor Swift is reading this, would you?)

Do not let circumstances define who you are; it doesn't matter what the date is, what matters is how you seize that day, and how you dictate what those circumstances are. A year ago I never imagined I would write down something so outlandish as this about the worst holiday ever, and there are times when being without a boss lady gets me down, but that should not mean I close up shop, row a boat into the middle of Lake Ontario, and then toss the paddles into the lake. As followers of this blog already know this point of view doesn't come out of thin air or experience, but from my relationship with my Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. I'm not sure where you are personally in terms of how you get along during Valentine's Day, but I hope the results are affirmative and constructive, and not feigned or contrived. February 15th is as good a time as any to start fresh, and make the most Single Awareness Year and say hello, or something nice to someone because it is 2/15 ^_^

Dear readers,

I made a reference to Leighton Meester in the previous blog post. Do not worry about this recent display of affection for the Gossip Girl starlet. There is plenty of room in my heart for both Taylor Swift, and Taylor Swift...what was I talking about? Oh yeah, Taylor Swift; she won!

BAM HEAD SHOT! Momzo: Phil, are you crying? Phil: YNO!

Taylor, as your future husband, I MEAN o_O, loyal fan I congratulate you on your recent Grammy-winning success collecting two miniature gold gramophones Sunday night ^_^ I always knew you could do it, and I could never doubt someone so talented, genuine, wonderful, and stinking attractive ^_^ Thank you also for redeeming blonde hair and the term "head shots". BAM!