tschram

We’d like to welcome to the world three fine sock puppets, at least one of whom is named Gerald. They were brought to life last Friday by Betsy Pardick and her sons Carson and Dexter, a few of the creative folks who attended the opening reception for the Arts Council’s current Emerging Artist gallery exhibit (MO- BIUS, the visual and audio art of another parent-and-child set, Miles & Stafford Taylor). Many of those sock puppets and people then took themselves to Bluenose and performed karaoke at the Gopher’s deck fundraiser benefit… including us, your CAIR staff, who would like to take this opportunity to formally apologize to the community – and the estate of Leonard Cohen – for our enthusiastic yet flawed rendition of “Hallelujah.” Missed notes, minor glue gun burns and all, it was a fantastic night.

My 44th birthday was at the end of December and I remember waking up and thinking, “Wow, I am middle-aged. If I have half of my life left, how do I want to spend it? What should I be doing with my time?” It is easy to look at others, make comparisons, and start wondering if I’ve done enough or if it’s good enough.

In the back of the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous, there are stories written by people about their journey with alcoholism. In the story “My Chance to Live,” a young girl writes, “When I am willing to do the right thing, I am rewarded with an inner peace no amount of liquor could ever provide. When I am unwilling to do the right thing, I become restless, irritable, and discontent. It is always my choice” (Alcoholics Anonymous, p.317)