A Little Perspective

Just under two months ago I was back-tracking my route in California. I had travelled south to north but when I learnt that my hometown NHL Team, The Winnipeg Jets, were going to be playing a series against all the California teams I knew what I had to do. You see, at this point, I had been driving around the continent for eight months with my Jets jersey folded, tucked away at the bottom of my suitcase. I packed it back in August because I was almost certain that I would have to be somewhere that The Jets were playing while I was travelling. And it would be a heck of a lot easier to get tickets anywhere outside of Winnipeg.

For eight months, I would run into these fun little scenarios where The Jets would be playing Nashville while I was in Nashville! Except for the fact that the game was happening in Winnipeg. Or, that The Jets would be playing Chicago while I was in St. Louis. It seemed to happen over, and over again. They were a few states over or in the state I just left. So, when I discovered, after eight long and hopeful months that we would both be in the same state at the same time the answer was clear: it was time to treat myself to an early birthday present. I had my pick. The Jets would be playing San Jose, LA, and Anaheim. I could go to any of the games. Whichever I preferred. And, as any true life-long Jets fan would do, I packed up and left San Francisco. I was headed for Anaheim.

I remember being five or six and seeing Teemu Selanne play back in Winnipeg. It was incredible. So, when the Ducks first took the ice for warm up and I saw number eight fly across the ice I knew, without a doubt, that I had made the right choice. Now I could go on and on and on for days about how incredible the game was. How awesome my seat was. How it cost me probably a sixth of what that same seat would have cost me in Winnipeg. I can talk about how there were probably more Winnipeg Jets fans in the crowd than Ducks fans. But instead, I want to tell you a little story - as if that's not what I'm already doing.

You see, there came a point in the game - it was probably during the third period, when it came time to honour the men and women that serve in the armed forces - the military, the army, the navy, etc. The announcer introduced a man as being a veteran and as the game paused momentarily, and the girls that clean the excess snow off the ice during commercial breaks made their way up and down the ice something particularly special happened. 

When we think of heroes, we tend to think of sports stars, athletes: the Ryan Getzlafs, the Teemu Selannes, the Andrew Ladds and Jacob Troubas. The ones whose faces we plaster all over our bedroom walls as kids. The ones who's names we bear across our backs on a jersey that cost two pay cheques to buy. But in that very moment that the entire arena had paused, and risen to applaud this war veteran for his service, those very same people that we consider heroes transformed into normal people. There was not a player on the ice that wasn't on his feet, clapping along and banging their stick against the boards to show support, appreciation, and respect to this veteran. Recognizing the true hero on the ice is what made that game particularly special to me.

I think it's important that we all keep in mind one thing: there are people in this world that deserve our respect. And there are people in this world that we respect, undeservedly (not necessarily speaking in regards to sports). Let's try not to confuse the two. 

Space VS Place

"And when you're alone, there's a very good chance you'll meet things that scare you right out of your pants. There are some, down the road between hither and yon, that can scare you so much you won't want to go on. But on you will go though the weather be foul. On you will go though your enemies prowl. On you will go though the Hakken-Kraks howl. Onward up many a frightening creek, though your arms may get sore and your sneakers may leak. On and on you will hike. And I know you'll hike far and face up to your problems whatever they are. You'll get mixed up, of course, as you already know. You'll get mixed up with many strange birds as you go. So be sure when you step. Step with care and great tact. And remember that Life's a Great Balancing Act" (Dr. Seuss).

When you think of or hear of a place that you've never been, you imagine this place. You have an idea, maybe you've seen pictures. Or read articles. Maybe a friend or family member has told you stories about their incredible all-inclusive Cancun vacation. Or perhaps you've heard about walking through Central Park. And, you have an idea. A picture forms in your head about how you expect these places to be. What they might be like should you ever get the chance to visit. 

This imagination or imagined identity makes it a space. You know it exists. And surely it is a geographic location. But the only thing that you may have to associate with the names of places like Wyoming or New Brunswick will be the idea, the stories, what you've heard or can imagine these spaces will be like.

There is this really cool phenomenon that happens when you've been as lucky as I am to have been able to travel around North America. A space transforms into a place. I knew it was something amazing but I couldn't quite put my finger on what exactly it was. But a week or so ago a group of us were sitting around the table in Edmonton talking about all these places we've travelled and things we've learnt or seen or done. And as we all took turns talking about various locations, I could see the flip flop between space and place, even within my own experiences. As Mike, Flo, and Jana talked about Australia and New Zealand I found myself imagining what these two spaces are like. Beaches, and wild animals. Surfers and kiwis. Among many other things that immediately come to mind when discussing these two spaces. But, that's all they are to me. And all they will continue to be unless I ever go there myself and transform these spaces into places.

The association of feelings. Or a memory. A tangible emotion. By my definition, this is what transforms space into a place. It goes from being unknown and imagined to real and vivid. When I think about Kansas it's no longer where Dorothy and ToTo got whisked away by a tornado. Instead, it is the place I got to couchsurf with Case and Logan and their dog Sebastian. It's where I sang karaoke and enjoyed $3 martinis. I got to explore the Museum of Treasures and took a trip to what is now one of my favourite zoos: The Sedgwick County Zoo. Yet, people still have the audacity to ask - why Kansas?! 

New York. New York, New York. You're the city that still mostly remains a space to me. Much left the be discovered. But for now you'll always be the place that has the worst traffic imaginable - even worse than Los Angeles. And I am fully qualified to make that distinction. 

Speaking of LA, to me, you'll always be the place where I didn't see any celebrities. The place where the Dolby Theatre was closed the one day I wanted to go and take a tour. And the place that was 39 degrees (Celsius) on the day I decided it was a good idea to walk around the entire Walk of Fame. You're home to the Hollywood Sign. And The Grove shopping centre. You're the place that should be rather intimidating to a girl walking around alone on a Sunday afternoon - camera in one hand, phone in the other. Clearly a tourist. But yet, you're not. Because everyone is a tourist. And there is an In-N-Out Burger on almost every corner. Ones you even have to line up outside the parking lot before you can even get anywhere near placing your order. 

Vancouver, if we're being honest, I never really liked you. But that's because the first time we met I was rushed. And on someone else's schedule. This time, I think we got along just fine. It never hurts when you stay with friends that sit around for hours past what should have been their bedtime to play games. Making rare memories like - that time I was walking around Stanley Park and looking at the totem poles when a coyote decided to strut on through. 

And, Tennessee. I loved you so much I went back twice. I said it once, okay maybe I've said it a thousand times already, but if I could - if it was legally possible for me - I would move to you in a heart beat. Never in my life have I found a place that I feel so much like I belong there. Everything from the southern hospitality - yes, it's real. To the accents. The cowboy boots. The honkytonks. The history. It's contagious. I can close my eyes and retrace my steps from 1st ave up to Broadway. Into Honkytonks like Ripey's or The Stage. I see myself back in that Bridgestone Arena seat, all by myself, watching the CMA Country Christmas taping. I see the line on the wall in the dressing room of the Grand Ole Opry that reminds how high the flood waters got. I remember the honour I felt being able to stand in the circle on the stage of the Grand Ole Opry. I blush with embarrassment at the memory of me knocking over my entire drink in the Ryman Auditorium. And, I could never forget, the decadence that completely engulfs the home of The King, Graceland.

But when I think of Nashville and Tennessee, I also think of Amanda, Chloe, Nick and Quintin from Illinois (and Michigan). I think of my short-term travel buddy Ailie from Scotland. I think of Janna and her daughter from Nashville, sitting beside me at the CMA Country Christmas taping. Pointing out all the famous people, giving me tips for seeing their amazing city, and to this day - keeping touch on twitter. 

It's a crazy, bizarre, amazing, cool phenomenon that happens when a space turns into a place. The best part is that you don't even realize it's happening. And, until you sit down to reflect on it, you may not even realize just how much meaning a space, now as a place, holds for you. It's overwhelming for me. Especially when someone asks me how my trip was. Or what was my favourite place. It's hard. How can I possibly narrow it down. I draw a blank and reply with good. Or Nashville. But if you get me talking and really thinking, I could go on for days about the incredible places I have been lucky enough to see over the past months. 

"So... be your name Buxbaum or Bixby or Bray or Medecai, Ali Van Allen O'Shea, you're off to Great Places! Today is your day! Your mountain is waiting. So...get on your way! 

Oh! The places you'll go!"

The Special Ones

We've all had those experiences. You see someone that you haven't seen in a while. Or maybe it's a kid that you used to babysit and you bump into them at the mall only to realize, they aren't so much of a kid anymore. Well, over the past couple weeks I feel like my days have been overrun with these moments.

It started in Edmonton with a quick bite for lunch with my old neighbour Matt. Before I go any further I should let you know that when I say old neighbour, I mean it. Matt and his family - younger brother Alex, and mom and dad Beth and Joe - moved from Winnipeg to St Albert, Alberta back in the late 90s. Yet, we've managed to keep in touch. In the last twenty-or-so years I've maybe seen Matt and his family three times. Yet that doesn't seem to change anything. Whether it's a matter of months, or years, or even coming up on a decade since the last time we saw each other - nothing seems to change. We can sit down and reminisce about the times we put on WWF (as it was called back then) wrestling matches in the basement of my house. And even though it was the three boys - Matt, Alex, and my brother, I was always in there like a dirty shirt.

It wasn't long into our lunch that we started talking about the last time I was in Edmonton. That was eight years ago for his wedding. Now he has a son that's six years old whom I still haven't met. SIX?! When did that happen? I swear it was just last weekend we were standing outside of the reception, lighting sparklers and waving them around in the night celebrating the wedding.

The phenomenon of time "moving still" seemed to continue when a few nights later I met up with the rest of Matt's family for dinner. Again, even though it has been twenty years or so since they lived in Winnipeg, I will forever be the little blonde girl that lived next door that would come and knock on the door asking to play in the play room - and would be just as content, if not more so, if the kids that actually belonged to the house weren't home to join me.

Skip forward a few nights and I find myself in Camrose, Alberta. Staying with a family that I have known for years through softball. They're like a second family. And they just so happen to have the most special person in the world belong to their family. Mason will, forever, be the little four year old rascal running around the ball diamond, collecting foul balls and bringing them back to the umpire for nickels in Sioux Falls, SD. He'll always be the little munchkin that called every girl on the team his girlfriend. The one who often invited us all back to his room for a team movie night after a long day at he ball park. The guy who loved Scooby Doo and Dukes of Hazard. That will always be Mason. Yet, somehow, when none of us were looking, Mason turned 19. Who let that happen?

Fast forward another couple nights and you might find yourself in a jam after the person you were supposed to stay with in Calgary bails on you. Some might see that as an opportunity to sleep in their car and throw in the towel. Then there are also some people that you haven't seen in almost five years that might take you in, no questions asked, make you feel right at home, and sit around the table at 10:30 p.m. catching up on everything over ice cream cake. And it's like just yesterday you were carpooling out to Lethbridge, Alberta for softball Western Championships.

If you haven't guessed, what I am getting at here is that some people never change - even though they literally change. Time moves forward yet it seems to stand still. Whether it has been weeks, months, years, or even close to a decade. The awesome people of this world, the special ones that leave a lasting impression will drop everything to help out a friend or stay out late when they have a full day of work ahead just to catch up with an old friend. When you're special, some things never change.