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Men from Back Then

6 Oct

First off, how about my title? Great isn’t? A real zinger. It even rhymes.

Moving Along

Stemming simply from watching the Presidential Debate two nights ago,  I began to think about my guy. I hadn’t given him much thought at all lately. Perhaps it’s time I paid him a little attention. Okay let’s be superficial. Or how about you read my superficial post. Sound good? Wonderful because, I really want to just reminisce about men from the past.


Don’t you wish men still held doors open, or pulled out our chairs at the table? You might say “No, that would be too awkward.” That is simply because you’ve grown accustomed to the opposite of a gentleman. You’re not used to chivalry and so when it’s offered to you…you automatically decline. I know I would too. But as I said, we’re not used to chivalrous fellows.

I know some women will say, “I can do things for myself. Who needs a man to hold open a door?” No one is forcing you to give up your job, bank account, or independence. I’m not saying to give up on the feminist parade. No. I am merely suggesting that when courtesies and manners are shown, we stop to appreciate them. After all wouldn’t it strengthen women to allow ourselves to enjoy these things. It takes a strong person to be humble.

Can of Worms

It’s easy to say we don’t need a gentlemen, because everyone else is shouting it at the top of their lungs. It’s difficult to say we need them. It hurts our pride. Who ever wanted to admit they needed someone? Nobody. A stronger, more confident woman would accept chivalry  because she knows she is independent without having to announce it.

Picking up what I’m laying down? Basically I’m saying the gentleman has disappeared and wouldn’t it be nice if they returned? But also if a man does offer his arm, wouldn’t be nice to accept it without having to constantly assert our independence.

Done. Can of worms closed. Now…

Whom Can’t I resist?

I’ll give it to you straight.

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A bit of a rebellious, an outside the box type. A little like James Dean.

Dapper, chivalrous; in other words a gentleman. For example: Cary Grant.

Agile and quirky, like graceful Gene Kelly.

Witty, intelligent, a petit sarcastic. Maybe he isn’t the most attractive of men, but William Powell wins with his clever speak and fearless composure.

With a smile and blue eyes, with a talking lilt and confidence like our Paul Newman.

Tall, funny, gracious, happy. A joker. A lot like Jimmy Stewart.

Now let’s combine these factors together, to create one great chivalrous, witty and handsome gentleman. Think for a moment and consider have you seen such a fellow strolling the streets of your life? Probably not. He’s been extinct for so many years. Chivalry is for dinosaurs and manners have become fossilized.

All of this to say it’s amazing what the Presidential Debate can bring to light. Many now consider where to cast their vote. Some have changed opinions, some have remained steadfast. I?


I have discovered the type of fellow who has long since disappeared. I have rediscovered the gentleman. And ladies, (all of you who are reading) I think it’s time you rediscovered him too.

This Time

3 Oct

It's another perspective.Around this time last year, I went for a walk in the streets of Beijing. I saw fit to write about it. Express myself and share what I saw. The result was a remarkably poor blog post. Although the content was wonderful, my style was lack-luster; weighed and found wanting.

So I have taken it upon myself to re-write this post, hoping for the forgiveness of those who had read it at the time.

Here goes:

I had decided to go for a walk. Down Zhonguancun, a main street in the northeastern part of Beijing. Maybe I’ve become too sentimental, maybe I’ve always been sentimental. Either way I was in a sentimental mood.

My heart stirred; moved by many things on my short walk. But three stand out in comparison to all the other moving moments.

Scene #1 

A girl, sitting on her haunches. Black hair falls over her face either for shame or fashion. From a distance, I can tell…it’s not for fashion. She wore a tattered school uniform and holes cover her (the unfashionable kind).

A paper in front of her, flutters in the slight breeze and she holds it down with these tiny fingers.

Chinese characters spell out some plea for help, food or money.

A man stands apprehensively in front of her, reading her sign. Absent-mindedly, he dug for his wallet. He pulled out a few kuai and with care placed them at her feet. She nodded her head in acknowledgment.

No eye contact.

Scene #2

I continue to walk. Ashamed that I hadn’t stopped. Why hadn’t I stopped? Too task orientated.

Not too far down the road.

An elderly gentleman pulled out a piece of paper, placed it on the curb and sat upon it. The curb looked clean to me. But then you never can tell.

He crossed his legs, and folded his hands over his knees. Pensive. Here he had decided to sit and watch the world whirl around him. He smiled.

I smiled. Almost let out a small laugh.

Scene #3

I continued walking and came to a park. Classical folk music drifted up through the trees. A combination of the flute, the accordion, drums, the lute. Beautiful. It wasn’t not Bach, it’s not Chopin either. But it was beautiful.

I peeked through the trees and saw dancing.  Women thrice my age, moved with such agility. Men exemplified chivalry that hadn’t been used in over a decade.

I had found a dream world. A bubble in busy Beijing.

I was enlightened.

What did I learn from my walk?

  • To give more whole-heartedly.
  • Watch where I sit.
  • Observe the world now and then.
  • (Cliche bit) Dance through life.

insert (Gripping Title) here

29 Sep

Same photo that has appeared on the FB. This is Pawan and I in Vrindavan, India at Jaisiyaram; singing “Row Row Row Your Boat”…I would have to say that never have I ever had so much joy than teaching these simple songs…if I could relive a moment. Thank you Ramona for sending me this photo.

Promise me you’ll read the entire post.

I don’t know what makes people read my blog, and maybe my readership consists mostly of my family. Oh well it makes me feel good to look at the stats now and then and see someone in Qatar is reading my words. It puts a bit of pressure on me to be super awesome when I write something.

That’s hard!

Oh the competition these days, oh the weight of trying to “make it” in a world that is so empathetic to the petite efforts of little me. One could succumb to the depth and enormity of it all you know. Give up entirely. I mean really, why am I writing these blogs? Am I trying to make it “viral” someone accidentally be discovered?

You want honesty, I’ll give you blunt honesty. Yes, I want that. I want to be “discovered.” Like Justin Beiber,  like Colbie Caillat. Who else? Oh J.K. Rowling. And that girl, Julie Powell, who wrote a blog about trying all the recipes in Julia Child‘s cookbook. She made it, her blog became a book, and then a movie for goodness sakes! Yes I want that to happen to me.

Let’s carry it on a little further. Listening to AM640 Talk Radio yesterday, while driving to Toronto, and The Mike Stafford came on. They were discussing a fellow who had made a public comment, and now he was on the news and TV shows…I thought to myself, “Yes, this is what I will do!”

My Devised Method 

1. Upload a video of my awesome singing/dancing skills and then Usher will see it and I’ll hit the “big-time”.

2. Have superbly awesome writing skills and an imagination to create something that would capture the hearts and minds of the world. Write in a cafe, where I can look out the window, see a castle and envision an entire fantasy.

3. Create and keep up a blog many people will read and appreciate. But what’s his face (I think his name is Ryan?) on The Mike Stafford Show said, “Who blogs anymore these days?” Dang, okay. And I’ll be honest I’m going to tag all those famous people in here, and hope they read it…who knows maybe they will.

4. State a controversial comment on this blog, or my FB or my Twitter, and have the news focus on: Me. What can I say that hasn’t been said?


Let’s check in with reality…

Will it happen? Most likely no. And I have to settle myself down with the simple fact that my strength lies in being the Canadian, Tricia Demmers. Also please don’t read with judgment because I’ll bet somewhere deep inside your “denial of fame”, you kind of wish it would happen to you too. And that is okay. BUT I’m still reaching for the stars of course, I’m not giving up my dream of somehow making it as a writer/journalist/foreign correspondent/whatever will come along. Nope. Who ever got anywhere by giving up on their dreams? NOBODY.

Sigh*                                           You still reading?

Okay so why is there a photo of me with a little boy singing a song in this post? Excellent question dear reader (whoever you might be…mom if it’s you, well I give you a “high-five” through the internet cloud). It is to remind myself (and the reader) :

1. Wonderful opportunities come without asking. We need to be thankful for what comes my way when we go searching.

2. Power in being small. Sometimes hitting the “big-time” means you lose individuality. I would like to keep mine. 

3. You never know who will influence with the character you’re becoming.

Basically I shouldn’t have to “need” thousands of readers or “Likes” on this post to know what is captured in the photo above is priceless. It would be reassuring, but it’s only because my human need for approval unfortunately outweighs the purity of the above knowledge. Sad but true. I mean why else would I write this up on the world-wide web right?

To be honest I’m uncertain about how to put a “slam-bank” finish to this…so

The End.



Angkor Wat (Bangkok, Thailand)

20 Sep

A Wat

I am almost just as tall aren’t I? I love the standard “stand-in-front” of the monument and take a photo. A token tourist pic don’t you think?

Round and Round

1 Sep
English: Jal Mahal in Jaipur Rajastan. This pa...

English: Jal Mahal in Jaipur Rajastan. This panoramic photo was taken on a rainy evening 1 September 2007 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Took the local bus,
To Jaipur.
It’s not so bad, I think of it as character building.
Everyone needs character building.

It’s a myriad of sound.
Every one of my senses are on fire.
To my right horns are blaring,
To my left construction is roaring.

Behind me a man plays his own music on his mobile.
Laying next to me is a woman so skinny…
Her husband is trying to sleep.
Tapping at the window.

“Hello, no money, japati.”
A little boy gestures to his stomach.
I hand the left over biscuits to my friend and we pass them
through the window.

The boy gives them to a woman.
She breaks a piece of cookie off for her baby…
Shares some with another woman.
What a meal…cookies.

My ears are ringing.
My eyes aren’t sure where to look.
My nose itches and twitches.
My skin sweats and sticks.

Like I said my senses are flaring.
In a public bus you become a rag doll,
Tossed and thrown about.

But it’s character building…
And everyone needs character building.
At some point in life.
The air tastes like something.

Not sure what yet.

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