Delivering the goods

I eagerly anticipated coming home from work on Wednesday as I knew both Dylan and Ben were receiving some awards at the year-end assembly. Unfortunately, I was stuck in meetings all day and couldn't easily extricate myself.

It turns out that Ben was recognized for perfect attendance in the term, as was Dylan. In my memory, that was the first time it happened. I'm still trying to figure out what we did differently that enabled that to happen? I guess there were no sick days, vacations or family emergencies that got in the way.

Dylan was also given the Roy Hawkins "peacemaker" Award, which came as a complete surprise to him and us. Since he was a little boy, we've heard from parents and educators that he was a positive influencer. His ability to fall, get back up and keep moving forward provided valuable perspective for his contemporaries. His influence has changed as got older, somewhat suggested by this award as a person who helps calm the waters. His home room teacher shared that the selection was "an easy choice," and well-deserved.

As parents we can easily get caught up in the negative things that ripple to the surface on the home front: disheveled hair, too many hours of video games, and the inevitable malaise that descends as one's body is going through enormous change. Being able to get a glimpse of the other side, how this 4-pound premature baby turned into a boy then into a respected young man is such a gift.

That the namesake of the award - Roy Hawkins (1921-2007) -was a respected WWII veteran, fire chief, community builder and someone I had the good fortune to meet is extra special. Fire Hall #1 in Fort McMurray is named in his honour. There is a great article called "Humble Hero of Fort McMurray" by Amanda Richardson in the Fort McMurray Today if you'd like to read more about this great fellow.

The next day provided the last vestige of responsibility for the boys before being let loose on the wind of sultry summer.  They had to pick up their report cards and bid a final farewell to their teachers.

Let me diverge for a moment to state the obvious: teachers matter!  They help ignite passion, inspire discovery, unearth potential, and encourage the heart.

Dylan's home room teacher, Mr. Gray, is leaving to go to another community.  The look as he shared this news with me spoke volumes as to the impact this teacher had over the last year.

While Ben has been shaped by his remarkable parents - tongue firmly planted in cheek - he is also a reflection of the wonderful teachers he has had at Dr. Clark School.  This year, Mrs. Semenoff influenced a fascination with rocks and minerals.  Ben picks up stones from the river and is able to tell me what they are called and how they were created.

Both report cards were very positive, with Dylan achieving an 80 percent average and Ben earning a wide swath of E's and W's. The fact that Dylan made it through grade 7 with flying colours, despite some challenging bumps in the second term, is particularly positive.  He is in excellent shape heading into a potentially life-changing experience at the Take Action Academy this summer and grade eight in the fall. Ben is also destined for great things, going on some mountain climbing adventures with his mama, and vaulting into grade four in September.

Chasing sunsets

The sky started to turn colour, brilliant shades of purple, pink and orange hanging on the southern horizon.  Election results finalized - Colleen Tatum and Christine Burton joining us on Council - I jumped outside, iPhone in hand, to see if there was a good picture in front of me.  There wasn't.

I went back to reviewing the numbers on my laptop from a by-election that featured 14 candidates running for two seats on regional council following the resignation of Mike Allen and Don Scott who left us to serve in the legislature.

Once again, I looked up and looked out.  The sky had changed yet again, the ribbon of colour moving dramatically to the west as the sun made its final dash for the day.  I ran outside and saw that conditions were perfect for what had the potential to be a stunning shot.

I grabbed my iPhone and keys, slipped into my Crocs, and hopped into my Ford Escape for the three block zoom to Snye Park, that sandy spit at the confluence of the Clearwater and Snye, my favourite fishing spot.

Even at 10:30 pm there were myriad vehicles scattered about, many belonging to the late evening watercraft enthusiasts, others attached to fisherman waiting patiently for the next nibble.

I began snapping, starting at the view of MacDonald Island and working my way east, trying to capture all the glorious angles.

"Make sure you send me one," said Lee - a fisher friend who works for Atco Electric - in equal awe of the canvas that Mother Nature had painted.

It was a short window of brilliance, perhaps 15 or 20 minutes, that faded as quickly as it flared.  Anyone who ever questions the beauty of this place need only to stop at one of these pictures and reflect on what they see.  Remember to breathe.

Decision Day

For 14 candidates in the Regional Municipality of Wood Buffalo by-election, this is a day that couldn't come soon enough.  Many of them are wrung out, after attending every public event they could find, going door to door, and managing their inventory of signs.

Decisions had to be made along the way:  to robocall or not to robocall, can I afford radio ads? (can I afford not to afford radio ads?), what is my platform?

We've seen myriad buttons, stickers, t-shirts, door knockers, pamphlets.  We've heard platforms, platitudes and promises.

After all the articles have been read, videos watched, Talking Stick answers reviewed, candidate visits completed, it comes to one fundamental choice that you need to make, or, in this case, as many as two choices.

Money has been spent to influence your vote, I can promise you that.  It takes substantial financial resources to have a meaningful presence on our highways and byways.  Someone pleaded on Facebook for voters not to base their decision on the candidate who had the biggest, brightest and most signs.  That would be asinine right?  Sadly though, the reason signs get erected in such huge numbers is that they really do influence the electorate.

Out in my backyard, I have several thousand dollars worth of signs in storage, ready to be dusted off and made ready for the general election in the fall of 2013.  I would be very interested in talking about ways to reduce the number of signs, whether that be by splitting Fort McMurray into a number of wards, thereby reducing the size of the geographical footprint candidates would have to cover, or looking at limiting the number of signs candidates are allowed to display.  I don't have the answer and I don't know the nuances of the legislation that would be required, but I'd love to have that discussion.  I would be quite comfortable keeping the bulk of my signs on ice (or in dust), if we made a shift in the rules.

I've been very resolute in not endorsing any one candidate, rather choosing to celebrate the process of civic engagement.  I've done what I can to share information, news stories, and resources to provide voters with every opportunity to learn about the people running.  I particularly enjoyed the character revealing questions suggested in one Facebook conversation string.

I believe that the voters got it right in 2010; I trust they are going to get it right today.

We have made tremendous progress as Mayor and Council, as a region, and we look forward to welcoming two new members to the team.

I'd like to take a moment to thank all 14 people who had the courage to let their names stand in this by-election: Bill Nahirney, Christine Burton, Byron Bailey, Colleen Tatum, Joe Nebesny, Keith McGrath, Chris Alton, Matt Youens, James Anthony, John Mulhull, Robert Parmenter, Valance Howard, and Shafique Khan.  They all have something very integral in common: a love of this region, and the will and determination to contribute to its future.  Behind each and every one of these fine people are family, friends, colleagues and supporters who have made this 4-week campaign journey possible.  They deserve our thanks, too.

Shortly after the polls close, we'll start to get results that might suggest the eventual outcome.  But with 14 candidates and only two seats, the potential for surprise is very much in the cards.

Let me close by encouraging you to encourage others to get out and vote today.  Municipal elections in this region typically result in a dismal voter turnout.  They say by-election are lowest on the totem pole of civic engagement.  You have the power to turn this reality on its head, by talking to your friends, family and co-workers and inspiring them to get to their friendly neighborhood polling station before this thing wraps up at 8 pm.  Perhaps you can email them this link to make it easy for them?

HNIC's Play On!

We were up in the media centre - a scaffold structure facing Rink #3 at the HNIC's Play On! 4 on 4 street hockey event at MacDonald Island - the gathered celebrities tagged to play against each other, black shirts vs. red, at high noon.

Steve Jani, Hayley Wickenheiser and Huskies Hockey coach Paul Strand

Crammed fairly close in those tight quarters, I was literally rubbing shoulders with Olympic gold medalist, Hayley Wickenheiser, one of the most lauded female hockey players on the planet.

Hayley Wickenheiser and Bobbi-Jo Slusar

"Sorry," she said, after bumping me in the middle of one of my tweets.

"No worries," I said, in semi-awe of this young lady who has lit up a nation on more than one occasion.

She was the captain of the other team - the red shirts.  Our fearless leader was Bobbi-Jo Slusar, another acclaimed hockey player and former member of Canada's women's national hockey team.  I felt right at home with the both of them, possibly because we all come from the mighty green province to the east.

It had probably been near on 30 years since I played a game of road hockey.  As a kid, we played for hours on end, usually in the deep dark days of winter and usually with a soft rubber puck.  I don't recall playing with the orange balls that they use for this event, primarily because they would turn rock hard when it was below zero, and were plumb dangerous to use.  They never got used in the summer either, as far as I can recall, because the hockey sticks didn't come out very much when we had the option to be at the lake or the swimming pool.

Collin Feser was a dominant force for Team Wickenheiser
(photo by Shirley Lin, Fort McMurray Today)

Mayor Blake dropped the ball - a good thing in this instance - to set the Celebrity Game in motion. It was back and forth, relatively even for the first bit, before Team Wickenheiser started to pull away, primarily on the strength of Paul Strand and Jamie Clinch setting up the incredible Collin Feser.

MLA Mike Allen and Ben McCully
(photo by Shirley Lin, Fort McMurray Today)

We had a couple of big guns, including the wicked wrist shot of Steve Jani, the behind the net prowess of Leithan Slade, and the tenacity of MLA Mike Allen, but it wasn't enough.  We didn't win, "but we were still AWESOME," as I wrote on Twitter.

I almost look like I know what I'm doing
(photo by Shirley Lin, Fort McMurray Today)

Thank goodness we had enough guys to switch out every couple of plays, because several of us more senior players were huffing and puffing.

"Didn't anybody tell them we're the arts guys?" asked Mike Allen, looking a little tepid on his toes in between shifts.

At one point I was in the squat position taking a desperate slug of water.  When I lifted myself up, my head started to spin and it took everything I had not to pass out.  The moment passed, my turn to play came up, and I rifled off three shots on net within a few seconds.  I didn't score, but I'd like to think I made the goalie work a little bit.

Team Slusar - gracious in defeat
(Photo by Shirley Lin, Fort McMurray Today)

The HNIC's Play On! event featured 10 rinks, lined up on the west side of the road leading onto MacDonald Island, and 74 teams.  They picked a perfect - or not-so-perfect, depending on your point of view - day for it, as the sun was in full bloom with temperatures in the mid-20s.  Parents, supporters, volunteers were out in the hundreds as Fort McMurray hockey enthusiasts - young and old - took Canada's game to the streets.

Thanks to the gang at Play On! for allowing us to relive our youth, during 30 action packed minutes of street hockey.  It was a blast!

Success

(An attempted capture of a speech delivered on June 22, 2012 at the McMurray Gospel Assembly to high school graduates from THE EXPERIENCE program)

I'm so pleased to be here, especially with my son Ben, as the last time he saw me in a church it was for my grandfather's funeral.  He was 99 when he passed and I helped deliver the eulogy.  I was a blubbering fool by the time we were finished.  Not the best memory in the world for my son. I hope I do better this time.

First of all, congratulations. Finishing high school is a big deal….don’t let anyone you differently.

I LOVED high school, I won’t lie to you. I loved it so much, that I would pack my bags early in the morning, walk that half a block to the Kamsack Collegiate Institute and arrive just a few minutes after the janitor – long before the first teachers would ever showed up. I just wanted to be there.  I worked hard, played hard and studied hard.

It was in those years that I learned that effort equaled reward.

It mattered to me that that essay on tragedy was excellent.
It mattered to me that I demonstrated 100% effort 100% of the time.
And it mattered to me that I was successful.

Then I went to university, where I discovered that life wasn’t so black and white, that effort didn’t always equal reward, that life was more complicated that it first appeared.

Two years of struggle, bookended by a lack of academic success and a flurry of real-world practical experience as the producer-director of a small acting company, and I had had it. I had to get out.

I found a job as a donut baker. And thanks to an idea that was drilled into my head by my father that “any job worth doing is worth doing well”, I set out to be the best darn donut baker I could possibly be. I discovered success flipping hundreds of thousands of donuts in a deep fryer over the next two years of my life. I was not just a good donut baker, I was great donut baker…..and I was proud of that.

Eventually the wind blew me into broadcasting school – WABC – a small independent radio academy on the dodgy side of Saskatoon, where I paid a whole heap of money for a couple of month’s of instruction before landing my first full time gig in Fort St. John, BC.

And when I listen back to what I sounded like in those years, I blush with embarrassment, because I really sucked. But I gave it 100% effort, 100% of the time.

I recently reconnected with my boss from that first radio job, Ray Telford, and he shared with me how much he enjoyed listening to me in the evenings and that he had never had a disc jockey who put so much effort into preparing for his show.

So, even though I really sucked, the effort that I was putting into preparation and the attitude with which I was doing it, was remembered….after more than 20 years of life had passed under the bridge.

I kept at it…got better, was given leadership opportunities……through years when I was making $900 per month BEFORE deductions.

Eventually one opportunity led to another which led to another which led to Fort McMurray.  I flipped over to the College in 1999, ran interPLAY as its volunteer President for 15 years, before running for Council in 2010.

I could get hit by a bus tomorrow, shuffle off this mortal coil, and I would be OK with that.

I’m not rich, nor famous. I’m not overly powerful nor remotely intelligent. But I’ve been successful in my own way, influencing and supporting my family, friends, colleagues and community.

There are three things that have guided me from being a 90+ high school student to being a university drop out to being a senior leader at a college to serving the public good on council.

1.  Any job worth doing is worth doing well – my father instilled in me this idea that giving every job its due was important. Whether it was painting the chimney, weeding the garden, planning a festival, or engaging in social media….giving 100% effort, 100% of the time was full-proof.

2.  Embrace failure – one of the mantras of my life is that “the seeds of my success are sown in soil rich with failure.” It is important to embrace the fact that to be successful in life, you’re going to have to fail first.

I was raised Catholic and was married in about 1990, a marriage that ended in divorce shortly after.  It was certainly one of the hardest things I ever went through as it forced me to learn to accept a very personal failure that hit me to the core.

In the early years of interPLAY we experienced huge failure. We had very little money, a broken reputation, and a core group of volunteers who were giving it everything they had. But we kept at it, and with each passing year we failed less and less, learning as we went.  Eventually, failure became success, and the festival that you know today.

A former boss of mine, Wray Betts, taught me to re-frame failure, to turn it on its head and use it as a learning moment or a growth opportunity.  I will also be grateful to Wray for passing along this invaluable perspective.

3.  Listen to the wind – God/the universe/the wind speaks to me every day. I’ve learned to pay attention, to trust in the universe, to listen to the wind. It provides the right answer 100% of the time.

An example from six years ago is when I was first asked to participate in the Leadership Wood Buffalo program. The offer fell out of the sky and my wind was telling me that this was something important.  It was, and continues to be, a transformative force in my life and in the life of this community.

An example from last weekend revolves around a tweet I received from Tim Hurson, author of Think Better, suggesting that I consider attending something called Mindcamp in August.  His suggestion led me to the website, which I kept going back to throughout the day.  By that evening I tuned into what the wind was telling me, and starting adjusting the accouterments of my life to get me to a camp near Orillia, Ontario to discover, learn, engage, be inspired, for reasons yet to be determined.

Earlier today I finally took action on a television series box set that had arrived in the mail recently.  I had ordered it months ago and complete forgot about it.  Heather and I ended up buying the series on iTunes and watching it from beginning to end.  So, I had this unwrapped treasure sitting on my desk, a television show that is among the best I've seen (Breaking Bad).  So, I decided to create PAY IT FORWARD FRIDAY.  I put out the offer on my Facebook that anyone who was willing to acknowledge someone who made a positive difference in your life this week would go into a draw for the set.

I had a number of responses, then Nikki chimed in from Montreal.

NIKKI: I've already seen the fourth season (edge of my seat the whole time!), so don't include me in the draw, but I felt like sharing this little story:

It has been a very stressful week. After a meeting with HR at work, I decided to sit on a park bench outside my building before my shift. I was visibly upset and trying to regain some composure. A scraggly, homeless-looking man came up to me.

"Excuse me," he very politely said, "...could you do me a favour?"

I looked up at him.

"Could you give me a smile?" he pleaded.
I did, and he walked away pumping his fists in the air. It made my night.

Give life your 100% - take failure and give it a big hug – and allow your higher power to guide you where you need to go.

Do these three things and success will be yours.

-----

Special thanks to Pastor Rick Kirschner, for inviting me to speak at this celebration of success, and to the members of the McMurray Gospel Assembly for always making me (and us) feel so welcome.  I enjoyed meeting some great people, having some rich conversations, and being able to share a couple of stories.

Revealing power of a great question

There are a couple of great resources that should help you decide who to vote for in Monday's municipal by-election.  The Chamber  does a great job of giving you some insight into the candidates through their Talking Stick questions and answers, and their video interviews.  There is a comprehensive collection of questions and answers in the June 22 edition of the Fort McMurray Today.

All of the other media outlets have provided a variety of options to shed light on 14 individuals who have put their names on the ballot for consideration of two Council seats left vacant after the successful election of my friends Don Scott and Mike Allen to the provincial legislature.

I can't urge you strongly enough to take some time to look at as many of these "windows into the soul" as possible.  So much can be, and is revealed, in how these folks respond to questions, both straight forward and odd-ball.

Take for example the final question in this morning's Q&A in the Fort McMurray Today: "You've just won the $50 million jackpot. What's the FIRST thing you do with the money?"

I propose that the way the candidates answer this very innocuous question is very revealing.  Have a look at who answered.  Look at those who chose not to and their reasons for doing so.  Who jumped to that place of doing something good for their family first?  Who chose a more political response?  Hidden within the folds of this query that has absolutely nothing to do with municipal governance are incredible insights into the human being behind the election sign.

One of my favourite questions to ask during a formal interview with a job candidate relates to National Geographic magazine.  A part of my life since I was a little boy, this publication has story types that have formed its content for over a century, stories about insects, plants, animals, countries, people, science, etc.

"When you pick up a copy of National Geographic magazine, what are the story types that you are most drawn to?" I ask.

The answer they give is superfluous to their immediate reaction, and how they formulate a response.

When I was an acting student auditioning for a play back in the mid-1980s, the director asked me to leave the room, close the door, then come back in.

"Why?" I thought to myself, my brain spinning out of control trying to figure it out.

It was never about the act of coming back into the room, it was the accumulation of choices I made and actions I took that revealed a plethora of things about my character, resilience, responsiveness, and my potential as an actor.

So, my strong recommendation is to look beyond the veneer of the answers to the various questions that we will be asked of our 14 friends, neighbors, and colleagues who have courageously allowed their names to be printed on Monday's ballot.  Look deeper.  Learn from their tone, the depth of understanding they demonstrate, their ability to articulate a meaningful response, and ultimately, the feeling you get in the pit of your stomach when you read or listen to their answer.

Who inspires you?  Who best aligns with your values?  Who do you instinctively trust?

And, if you get the chance to engage directly with some of the candidates, have a doozy of a question hidden in your back pocket and throw it at them.  The way they respond will fascinate you to no end.

"If you were to be ship-wrecked on a desert island with the choice of having one book with you, what book would it be?"

"What one word captures the essence of our region?"

"What is your favourite form of communication?"

What awesome revealing question would you ask?

In Praise of Stillness

I'm a big fan of stillness.

I will sit in my lawn chair blissfully staring at the tip of my fishing rod for hours, focused on an interaction between a fish and my minnow, transmitted through a hundred feet of fishing line to the spot where it enters the first guide of my rod.  To the uninitiated, this might seem a monotonous, dreadfully dreary activity, but to me it is everything but.

In stillness I strengthen.

When my internal world becomes too cluttered, noisy, confusing, and enervating, my body begins to send me warning signals.  My left eyebrow starts to twitch.  My heart tightens, racing ever so slightly to let me know that it's there.  Fatigue descends rapidly; subtlety be damned.  As these warning flags start blowing, I walk to my office door - if that's where I am - gently squeeze it shut, turn off the light, grab my tube pillow, lie down on my side on the floor, and descend into stillness.  Sometimes I sleep for five minutes, other times I just slow my heartbeat down and enjoy the precious pause.

We were on a lunch break during a strategic planning day for Leadership Wood Buffalo and stillness was calling.

"I'm just going to shut my eyes for a few minutes," I said, sitting in a plush chair positioned around a large table in the academic conference room at Keyano College.

I clasped my hands together, nestled my head on the side of the plush chair back, and descended into stillness.  Conversations faded into the background as I fell into a deep sleep, sitting right there at the table.  Five, maybe ten minutes later, I calmly opened my eyes and returned to the world.

Stillness can be found, no matter where you are.

I have often expressed gratitude for my ability to cat nap. to steal a few minutes of sleep and recharge my physiological batteries.  I know this is not possible for a lot of people.  This practice has sustained me at various points throughout my life.

In the early days of my career as a program director, I would arrive at the radio station by 3:30 am to begin the preparation process for a show that started at 5:00 am.  Another announcer would take over at 9:00 am and I would go into my office, close the door, grab a piece of floor and descend into stillness and sleep before starting the administrative portion of my workday.

I was never a farmer, though I come from farming stock.  My uncle Lloyd, along with my grandfather Alex, would get up at the crack of dawn to start combining in the mad rush to get the crops in the bins while the weather was good.  Aunty and Grandma would prepare lunch and bring it out to whatever field they were working on, laying out the spread on a couple of blankets in the shade.  The men would eat, then tip their hats over their eyes and slip into stillness, as the ladies chattered on and the children screamed, laughed and played around.

My dad has that similar ability, preferring to lie down on the living room sofa after a hearty meal, staying in the middle of the action to find his stillness.  Some of my brothers and nephews are similar, able to grab a piece of carpet and drift off to sleep amid the fray.

I appreciate the stillness, and acquiesce to its calling whenever I can, knowing that resistance is futile.  Stillness soothes, sustains, supports.  It brings balance to the universe, steadies the course, and nourishes the soul.

Surviving Jericho

When I was young, one of my greatest  fears - among many - was the thought of global thermal nuclear war.  The east-west arms race had been going on since 1947, in other words, my entire life to that point, and much of the entire lifetime of my parents.  The idea that guys with briefcases handcuffed to their wrists containing launch codes could unleash two nuclear arsenals that were large enough to kill every man, woman and child on earth several times over was as imprinted in our minds as the golden arches, the Pepsi Challenge, disco dancing and a long list of social markers that defined that era.

If the Kennedy vs. Krushchev, Nixon vs. Brezhnev, Reagan vs. Gorbachev face-offs didn't do enough to fuel my imagination, movies like War Games (1983) and The Day After (1983) provided an added kick.

In my mind, I knew exactly where I would go if we were given the "ten minutes to impact" warning.  It was up at the Junior High School, a concrete bunker of sorts, tucked at the back of the gym and down a flight of cold concrete stairs.  Thirty years later, I have no idea what the small room was used for, only that it was solid concrete and might offer some protection in the event of an attack.

You see the role that fear played in our thinking?  I lived in small town Saskatchewan, three and a half hours away from the nearest major city.  That a nuclear bomb would be targeted for anywhere near us is complete lunacy, though everything I had been taught or seen, led me to believe that we were at risk.

We survived those years with nary a bomb going off, though total annihilation came close a number of times, times that we knew about, other times that we did not.   The tension shifted from the superpowers to the terrorists, as the bombing of the World Trade Center, U.S.S. Cole and 9-11 redefined everything we knew about geopolitical equilibrium.

Then we started watching Jericho, the television series about a small fictional town in Kansas that survives an apparent nuclear attack that destroys a number of American cities.  Hours from the nearest major centre, Jericho survives relatively unscathed, only having to deal with some early stage fallout and mid-stage aggression from a neighboring manufacturing community on the verge of starvation.

It begs the question of how a community would respond to its primary supply lines being cut-off for fuel, food, and  electricity.  If we had to survive with the resources that we had in our backyard, could we do it?  In Fort McMurray, we would have a number of advantages, including more engineers per square inch than anywhere on the planet who could jerry-rig a power grid adjustment that could keep our homes lit and our fridges functioning in perpetuity.  I've heard stories that they could flip a switch and power the entire city from the power plants on site right now, though I have no proof of it.

Our challenge would be on the food score.  Right now, most of what we consume comes from away, though on the vegetable side of things that could change soon.  With the waste to resource initiative that is underway, we're going to use our solid waste stream to create heat that will fuel a greenhouse-based agricultural industry.  For the first time - outside of produce that came from our gardens - we'll have a food supply chain that begins and ends within our borders.

One of the unknowns that Jericho explores is how people and communities respond when their collective lives are being threatened.  How do your morals and values change when your children are starving, when your fingers are turning blue from the cold, when hope has all but faded?

I didn't explore beyond the day of an imagined nuclear blast, huddled in the cold basement of my junior high school.  I only focused on that moment of survival, of still being able to breathe beyond the shock wave and initial fallout.  The real test of survival happens well beyond the first day or two, or even weeks after a cataclysm.  It happens when the food is running out, when fresh water has become scarce and feeling warm and secure is the stuff of dreams.

Some Glen with your toast

I've known Glen Laubenstein - CAO of the Regional Municipality of Wood Buffalo (RMWB) - for a long time.  He was the Regional Manager back in 1996 when I first moved to town, less than a year after amalgamation.  I was working as Senior Program Director at the OK Radio Group and often had occasion to bump into Glen at the myriad community events we both attended.  We were also somewhat connected through his daughter Sarah, who was a talented actor in the drama program at the time, now a successful CBC news anchor in Winnipeg.  She played one of the leading ladies in Twelfth Night, a 99-Cent Theatre production - my first performance opportunity in Fort McMurray.  I played a goofy Sir Andrew Aguecheek, complete with oversized red shoes and a physicality that I kept up through the whole show that suggested that I needed to go to the bathroom in the worst way.  Apparently, it was pretty funny.

Glen left us to pursue exciting leadership opportunities in various cities including Kingston and Winnipeg before returning to Fort McMurray in late 2010.

Prior to starting his current tenure as CAO, he returned for the Oilsand Banquet in honour of the 15th Anniversary of the RMWB.

That was in the fall of 2010, in the heat of the municipal election campaign. I went up to him to say hello and there was immediate recognition, though we hadn't seen each other in over a decade.  I've since had the honour to get to know Glen very well, sitting as a member of Council for almost two years now, and certainly consider him both a mentor and friend.

I am quick to realize that most people don't get the chance to enjoy Glen's wisdom and stories, the way that some of us of do.  That's why I'm particularly excited to write about the Leadership Breakfast happening on June 20th in the Miskanaw Ballroom at the Suncor Community Leisure Centre.  Glen is the keynote presenter at the awareness and support-building event for Leadership Wood Buffalo being hosted by a mutual friend of ours, Ken Chapman, the ED of OSDG (Oil Sands Developers Group).

Glen's going to be talking about his servant leadership philosophy and how it has helped guide his career as a senior administrator of municipalities.

"What is the single largest gap in Alberta and in fact, across the country?" he asked me last night.

I was thinking skilled labour.  He was thinking about something a bit more appropriate to this discussion.

"Leadership," he said.

"The way we need to work today is radically different than the way we've been taught to lead for the past 200 years."

"If you're a leader and you're looking for recognition, get out of the game," he said.  "Charismatic leadership doesn't work.  Jim Collins got it exactly right in Good to Great."

Glen has shared his leadership philosophies with influential groups from across the country and is eager to get in front of a local audience.  If you've heard about the guy who has shaken things up in Wood Buffalo and been a catalyst for fundamental change in how we operate and develop as a community, but haven't had a chance to hear him in person, this is a great opportunity.

The Leadership Breakfast is primarily a networking opportunity and a chance to create some additional awareness and support for Leadership Wood Buffalo (LWB), a program that is directly dealing with the gap that Glen identified last night.  Over six full cohorts - the most recent being the largest, and arguably, the most prolific - we (I sit on the board and an alum) have graduated over 100 community leaders, many of whom will be enjoying some Glen with their toast next Wednesday.

The event is also a fundraiser of sorts, and a few silent auction items will be available for some early morning bidding.  I'm donating one of my favourite paintings, a portrait of Wilfred Grandjambe from the cover of Syncrude Canada's most recent publication of Pathways (see the source photo compared to the finished watercolour painting above).  I hate to part with this one, a piece beautifully framed by my good friends at Frames and More, but it's a great cause and an organization that I'm particularly passionate about.

The Leadership Breakfast is an excellent networking opportunity and will include a first-class breakfast, and a compelling preview from Mr. Laubenstein of some of the remarkable developments that will redefine our downtown in the coming years.

Tickets are $30 each or $250 for a table of ten.  To get yours, click here.

If you're interested in donating a silent auction item and getting it in front of this influential group of community leaders, contact Cathy Baker-Morrell, LWB Executive Director, at 780-838-3883, or email ed@leadershipwoodbuffalo.com.

Changing face of birthdays

In the old days, people at work would know it's your birthday because that amazing administrative assistant had a spreadsheet tucked away on her desktop with that coveted information.  Memos would be typed and colleagues would gather around the water cooler at the appointed time to enjoy a few treasured moments of fun, fellowship and cake.  At home, there would be another round of festivity, the opening of a few cards that arrived by snail mail, and even a couple of phone calls from friends and family.  On the marquee birthdays (30, 40, 50, etc.), celebrations might go a little bigger, but generally speaking, that was how things happened -- back in the day.

For those of us on Facebook (reports vary, but penetration in this country is north of 50 percent), birthdays have morphed into something completely different.

The greetings started coming in the day before, as some people chose to work ahead.  By early yesterday morning and through the entire day, greetings and well wishes poured in from all over the world.  I tried to keep up and respond to them as they came in, but it proved to be impossible.  The new Facebook timeline format groups these kind of things, which makes it more cumbersome to respond on an individual basis. Which is why - I have discovered - that people tend to say a general sweeping thank you the following day.

Some cynics might say that these short bursts of connection, small touches of human kindness, are meaningless.  I would choose to disagree, as the hundreds of people who took 10 seconds out of their busy day to send a kind word have all added value to my life and to the universe.

Kind words came from all corners of my life: from back home in Saskatchewan, from my university/donut-baking years, from my radio days, from my 15 years doing interPLAY, and multiple connections in between.

Every year, it's great to hear from Erdem, a friend that we made down in Mexico while being pitched a vacation package.  He made a successful sale, and we made a great friend.

I love hearing from former radio bosses and on-air colleagues.  I had wonderful messages from Ray Telford (CKNL), Wray Betts (Q14), Andy Carlson (KYX98) and Kelly Boyd (CJOK), to name but a few.  They have been kind and consistently supportive.

You could tell which greetings came from my distant past, as they know me as "Russ", though I dumped that moniker shortly after my radio career took off - "Russell" worked better on-air.  "RVT", "Mr. Thomas", "Facebook King" were also used in yesterday's messaging.

If you were to mine the 300+ people who sent greetings, you could cast a couple of plays, fully staff a radio station (or two), and maybe even field a pretty lousy football team.  You could run a small company, form a regional council, and possibly even give the federal conservatives a run for their money.  Well, maybe not.

I'm grateful to each and every ONE who took a moment to say hello and wish me the best.  The time you took, bundled with your intention and attention, matter to me.  Thank you!

A big thanks to my Keyano family for a wonderful celebration

45

It's just a few minutes after 6 am and the birthday wishes are already streaming in, mostly on Facebook, but the odd email and text message, too.  45 - a ripe age to turn, and conceivably, my approximate half-life or midway point, assuming that I inherited the longevity gene prevalent on the Thomas side - Grandpa lived to 99.

I remember when 40 seemed old, forget about 45.  Back when we used to do the "Last Chance Club" on Q14 in Stettler - a phone call stunt choreographed by a loving spouse or friend to folks on the morning of their 40th birthday - it really felt like the good years were behind those folks.  Of course, I was in my mid-twenties at the time, so a deep understanding of age was well beyond my reach.  Those guys and gals that we taunted and cajoled are now in the 60 year old range, as I will be in a few more blinks of an eye.

Ben got something in his head yesterday afternoon while I ran around the house doing some cleaning and getting the laundry done.

"Would you like to get your birthday present today or tomorrow?" he asked.

"Tomorrow would be fine for me, but what would you prefer?"

"Today," he said, without a moment's hesitation.

He had done a watercolour painting for me.

When I look back at my art from 1976, it looks like a young kid was trying desperately to be an artist.  When I look at Ben's art, there is no trying, it just pours out of him.  What a great gift.

The wishes are coming in from people I know a little and people I know a lot, people from near and many from far.  Within two minutes I had separate greetings from fellows I briefly met from Quebec who were touring Keyano College last year - Guillaume and Martin.  I think that's awesome, as we stay in loose contact by following each other on Facebook.

Moments ago I had a message from Trevor, who I grew up with back in Kamsack.  I had posted an old picture of our baseball team from the early 1980s yesterday, which created a wonderful dialogue with a number of friends from back home about who was who, as names fade after almost 30 years.  Trevor is guy in the blue shirt in the back row; I am to his right, or your left.  I can still hear the crack of the bat as he hit a ball so hard that it sailed magnificently over the fence, waving goodbye to the opposing team as it entered the stratosphere.  It was a thing of beauty.

Heather came home late last night from a weekend away in Naramata, BC, attending a yoga training workshop.  She opened up her suitcase, rifled around for a few minutes, then sat down next to me on the sofa.

"Happy birthday Honey," she said, gently passing over a new book - Storycatcher by Christina Baldwin, Making Sense of Our Lives through the Power and Practice of Story.  My goodness, what a perfect gift.

I appreciate the kindness of everyone who has taken, or will take a moment to send me a note.  It's a small thing, to type a few words in a dialogue box, but for those minutes and seconds, someone is making a connection that matters.

My older son Dylan came home from Fort McKay last night.  He came into this world tiny but at the age of 13 is growing into a man, tall like his grandfather.

"Can I have a hug?" I asked, as he began to descend down into his basement lair. "I'll be 45 tomorrow."

"I won't say it till tomorrow," he said, as his lumbering arms encircled me and squeezed.

"I appreciate that.  I've still got a couple of hours of 44 left."

Thanks for stopping by.  Have an awesome day!