Your never too important to mock yourself

In celebration of my purchase of really great floor seats for this summer's Coldplay concert in TO, I hereby present for your amusement Coldplay frontman Chris Martin and the current reigning god of British humour, Ricky Gervais.

If you don't crack up at these videos... well, I dunno - there's something wrong with your funny bone! [Warning - these videos contain irony, mockery, and adult humour! It helps to know that Martin is an outspoken fair trade and human rights advocate, a vegetarian, and is generally acknowledge to be pretty self-effacing.]

Ricky interviews Chris

Chris' appearance on Ricky's TV show "Extras"

Behind the scenes & bloopers from the "Extras" shooting
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Meeting Fríða and ghosts of Iceland past

As promised (a month ago!), here is another Iceland trip posting - my second to last. It seemed that as our trip wound into its final days we tried to pack more than ever into each one! After a week together, climbing rocky mountain roads and crawling through cloud-cover and fog, we bade farewell to our trusty Škoda Octavia at the airport drop-off before being picked up by a shuttle bus which took us to the Íshestar riding stables on the outskirts of the city.

We had booked a half-day of horseback riding to experience beautiful Icelandic horses up close and personal. They are an internationally recognized breed known for their smaller stature, stamina, friendly nature, and their unique tölt gait. To protect the health of the breed, no other horses can be imported into Iceland – although Icelandic horses can be exported and are bred around the world.

The stable staff got us each properly seated and stirrups adjusted before we set off single-file, heading out beyond the suburban edges of the city. Soon we were looking out across a rocky, scrubby landscape surrounded by hills – the weather was alternately sunny, drizzly, and breezy (pretty typical!). After about an hour we stopped in a grassy clearing to stretch our legs and let the horses graze. On our way back to the stables, we got in some cantering which was exhilarating and surprising for a beginner tour!

Back at the stables, we had lunch with the staff and then wandered out to the corral with some carrots and apples we had brought for the horses. We were immediately surrounded by dozens of velvety, inquisitive faces – supple, muscular lips quickly lapping up juicy treats and greedily pushing their noses into pockets and hands searching for more. We also met Fríða, the lovely but shy Springer Spaniel who lives at the stables – she seemed quite smitten with Mark!

To pamper our now sore buttocks and stiff legs, we spent the afternoon soaking up the decadent and soothing mineral waters of the world famous Blue Lagoon. The spa is a hidden other-worldly gem surrounded by an angry, blackened volcanic landscape. It’s a naturally occurring lagoon which has been developed into a state-of-the-art geothermal spa and power plant! The milky blue mineral-rich waters are high in sulphur and silica and are considered very therapeutic.

Before getting to the main spa building, guests walk down a craggy corridor cut through the volcanic rock. We hadn’t seen a glimpse of anything but black, jagged rock and then suddenly – this beautiful building suddenly rose up in front of us and through the windows the wondrous vision of steaming blue water. We ignored the shops and restaurants, heading directly for the check-in where we received our blue snap-on bracelets which served as our locker keys and tokens of admission – very cool system.

Boys and Girls went their separate ways here and entered the worlds of unabashed European nudity! I’m no prude but when you grow up in North America, your sensibilities are in for a shock when you hit the Blue Lagoon locker rooms! BTW the locker rooms are very nice – forget your memories of high school phys-ed, this is a world-class spa. We had been forewarned about the strict hygiene standards enforced at Icelandic pools and spas – they don’t use chemicals to purify the water and expect everyone to scrub down thoroughly before using the facilities. I wasn’t going to be the one to catch the attention of the stern-looking older woman patrolling the shower area ensuring that everyone upheld these standards.

When you step out onto the wooden deck surrounding the Lagoon, you realize how bloody chilly you are and then you step into the steaming milky blue water… mmmm, ahhhhh. The water is quite hot (40 °C / 104 °F) and it feels sooo good, like a wonderful hot bath. We wandered about in the shoulder-deep water with white silica mud slathered on our faces, peering through the sun-streaked steam to the bizarre landscape of volcanic rock and geothermal power plant towers. The waterfall feature gives a fantastic shoulder massage but make sure those shoulder straps don’t slip ladies! We heard languages from all over – I met a couple and their daughter from Paris who had been to the Saguenay region – the world really is strangely small!

After three superbly relaxing hours lolling in the spa waters we showered and hopped the shuttle bus back to Reykjavik. A surprise awaited us in town – unbeknownst to us, a huge celebration rally had been organized to welcome home the silver Olympic medal winning Icelandic handball team. (To give a sense of the importance of this event, Iceland has won a grand total of four Olympic medals – summer and winter – in its entire history. This was a BIG deal.) Tens of thousands of Icelanders had gathered downtown where a stage had been set up with giant screens. There was music and dignitaries – including the Prime Minister – the entire handball team was on stage, the crowd was euphoric, cheering and clapping. We celebrated by lining up with hundreds of Icelanders to indulge in the national favourite: pylsur and Coke!

As if the day hadn’t been full enough, we then went on the Reykjavík Haunted Walk tour which led us through the city centre telling tales of murder and ghosts and mysterious events. Coincidentally, the tour route passed directly in front of our apartment building leaving us to wonder if there was some gruesome history our landlords had omitted from the listing! The tour ended after dark, deep in the heart of the old cemetery where we saw mystifying and strange sites… you’ll have to take the tour to see for yourself.

To cap off the day we dropped by a nearby club which was one of the sites for the Reykjavík Jazz Festival taking place in the city that week. I quite enjoyed the music of Tepokinn (Teabag) – a young, up-an-coming Icelandic jazz band. The boys were very patient – they lasted a good hour or so before they couldn’t take it anymore and wanted to leave! Although I could have stayed for several more hours to enjoy the music, I was bone tired after a very full day and it was a good thing they dragged me home!
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Excuse me, your cone of silence is defective

I just have to vent some steam! Last night a friend and I went to see Feist in concert. That girl can rock but she can also carry you away on the voice of a nightingale. The show was great – a mix of rock out blistering guitar work, toe-tapping pop tunes, and lilting acoustic solos.

Now you would think that having paid for a ticket (plus possibly dinner, parking, and/or a babysitter) that everyone would be there to listen to Feist and her band. Apparently not... We had the stunning misfortune to be surrounded by not just one but three couples (mid-age adults whom you would think would know better) who seemed to think that they were at home watching a music video in the privacy of their own living room.

They provided a running commentary on everything from how much they liked (or didn’t like) a particular song, the band’s skill (or lack thereof), the stage lighting & screen show, etc, etc. But what stunned – and irritated – me was the absolute lack of effort to lean towards their companion and speak quietly. It didn’t seem to occur to them that a) their ongoing conversations might be disrespectful to the performer and the setting, b) that their conversations might be considered incredibly annoying and disruptive to everyone within earshot, and c) that their ongoing behaviour might be legally defendable grounds for physical assault.

This was the third concert I’ve attended in about a month – luckily the first two experiences were amazing: the music, the venues, the energy, and the rapt appreciation of the audiences. Sadly my very enjoyable memories of the Feist concert are marred by the utter bloody rudeness of these people.

Perhaps we’ve forgotten how to behave in a communal setting. We don’t hold doors open – or even bother looking over our shoulder – anymore; we don’t teach (or show by example) our children to say “please”, “thank you”, and “would you like some help”; we’re so caught up in our me-centred experiences that we seem to have forgotten how to be civil and considerate of each other. Remember that warm, grateful feeling you get when a complete stranger does something nice for you? That’ll only keep happening if we pay it forward and remind each other that we live in a village, not under a cone of silence.

BTW I did finally tap one woman on the shoulder and, pressing my index finger to my lips, gave her the international ‘sshhhh’ gesture followed by a frustrated “Please”. Her outrage at being shushed boiled over when the lights came up and she jabbed me on the shoulder 4-5 times, telling me that she had been enjoying the show until I so rudely interrupted her. Mustering all the withering and dismissive disapproval I could deliver I simply said “You’re so rude.” and walked away. Like me, she’s probably still fuming! :-)
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Knee bone connected to the thigh bone...

So I found the computer/printer/DSL and managed to set it up all by my lonesome (this was always Chris' area of expertise)... everything works and I don't have any extra cables left over so I guess I did it right!

The move went as well as could be expected after arriving home from Iceland 12 hours earlier + a 4-hour time difference + very little sleep thanks to a whiney, lonely cat who shall remain nameless. BTW I don't recommend this type of intense insanity.

My success with the computer was somewhat undercut by the TV/DVD/VCR (yes I still have one)/cable hook-up. I even took a photo of the wiring connections before I packed everything up in the old apt! Despite three repeated hook-ups and complete rip-outs still nothing but crackling snow, which is charming on a crisp February morning but not so much after the departure of the cable guy. I gave up and called for help, turns out cable guy # 1 didn't actually connect the cable in the basement to anything! Thank you cable guy # 2.

And then there was the stereo (cue choir of angels). This was usually the first thing Chris set up, having always bought a special "moving in to a new place" CD to christian the event, so I was somewhat nervous about figuring out how to set up a "real" stereo system. Aside from the speaker wires being too short for where I want to put them, all is working so far. Pat on the back for me (and the reasonably explicit instructions and pictures in the manuals!).

But of course every move culminates in the unpacking of The Book Collection (only 11 boxes this time). Because I'm a book/library geek and into design porn (no, not porn design) I decided that when I unpacked my books I would try the sort by colour method that's so trendy on the 'net these days. It does however bring back haunting memories of post-BA minimum wage slavery at SmithBooks when I was often asked for some mysterious book that could only be remembered by its jacket cover colour.

Pictured below is the result of my ridiculously time-wasting little project (collection policy: coloured jacket fiction only, organized in the traditional visible spectrum colour range, many black & yellowing jackets left out simply for the sake of artistic vision, small selection of black covers serve as book-ends to frame the colours, single white cover chosen for its ironic title). Feel free to click on the pic below for full-size version to critique and compare (yes these are all my own books and no I haven't read them all... yet). Now this is just temporary and for fun, I'm waaay too anal to leave them like this!

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Sígur Ros and ghosts at the foss

The whirlwind is beginning to wind down - hard to believe that we will be heading home to London tomorrow. We've had more adventures since my last post and miraculously, the weather although overcast (as is common) has been co-operative and we've managed not to get drenched except while standing near foss (waterfalls). The food continues to be delicious and my pants continue to get tighter!

We had another great road trip out to the "Golden Circle" consisting of Þingvellir (gotta love language-specific keyboards!), Geysir, and Gullfoss. Þingvellar is not only the birthplace of the oldest democratic parliament in the world - 1000 year anniversary was held in 1930 - but it is also the place where the North American and Eurasian tectonic plates are tearing apart at the rate of 2cm per year. Amazing geography/topography as well as a beautiful vista - reminded me of Northern Ontario, somewhat Group of Sevenish. When you think of how old all this history is and that people congregated here over a THOUSAND years ago to elect representatives...

We drove on to Geysir - after which all geysers are named - and met Icelandic capitalism face-to-face. This was probably the most commercial site we have visited so far but compared to North America it was very low-key and tasteful! We bought some souvenirs while the rain poured and when it let up we went out to watch Strokkur spout. Geysir is dormant but the smaller Strokkur is still impressive to watch simmer and blow.

The grand finale of our day - and what felt like a grand finale before our trip winds down - was our visit to Gullfoss, Iceland's best known and possibly most impressive foss. It is very wide and roars as it tumbles over two sets of rocky outcropping. Ridiculously, there is a narrow well-traversed path along side the foss with only a low rope dividing the no-go zones from the path. We walked right up onto the rocky outcropping over the falls - slippery, wet, NO BARRIERS - stunning views, soaked with mist, rainbow!! Incredible experience - all FREE!

But the real gift was awaiting me on the far side of the falls where David pointed out a single white swan resting on the rocky shoreline. Suddenly all the overwhelming emotions of this trip came pouring out and I stood there sobbing in the thunder and mist of this beautiful wild place, missing Chris more than I had at any other point during this trip. He brought us to this place and showed us things that we would never otherwise have seen or thought of visiting. I watched that swan resting by the water and told Chris how much I loved him and thanked him for giving us this singular breath-taking moment.

Our trip home was a quiet one - I think we were all lost in our own thoughts and memories and emotions. Dinner was another decadent gourmet feast at a hidden gem in the resort area of Laugarvatn: reindeer pate (tastes like Christmas according to Mark!), smoked trout, fresh pan-fried trout, grilled lamb, and of course decadent chocolate mousse for dessert!

Oh I forgot to mention - at the outset of our day we dropped by the Sundlaugin studio where Sígur Ros recorded their first four albums and David played the piano there!!!!

A few sight-seeing spots to still hit and some shopping before tomorrow´s departure. :-(

Bless bless (bye bye)! See you soon.
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365 days

365 days... how can they have passed so quickly?
how can they have passed so slowly?

**********************

Trying to Get Through
By Hothouse Flowers

Spend a long time on my own last night
I think I spent a little bit over the top
It's just something in a bottle
Made me feel right
And I think that's why I couldn't stop

The man beside me
Had the warmest look of understanding in his eyes
As I went on about the laws the barriers and things
That came upon me and my kind
I'm just trying to get through

We have words but sometimes words say too much
But they don't say enough
The boy meets the girl
Sometimes they sail smoothly
And sometimes it's rough

I remember like a little child
Kicking against a stone wall
That I built myself
I won't give in now
I won't feel guilty
I'll just rise up
I'll have to be myself
I'm just trying to get through
I'm just trying to get through

So help me
I'm trying to get through
Can't you see I'm trying to get through
Help me through

So listen people what I tell you now
Life is hard but it's worth keeping on
Listen people what I can tell you straight
It's not too late to try and get through
I'm just trying to get through...
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Young in the head

If you're feeling older than your years (or maybe just a year older like I am this week); if you're complaining about your aches and pains and how tired you are; if you think you're too old to [insert here whatever it is you're feeling too old to do]; then get off yer sorry arse and go see a movie called Young@Heart. Trust me, you'll enjoy yourself.

It's funny as hell - I'll warn you, there are also moments that are sad as hell too - but what you'll really remember is how full of life this bunch of 'old fogies' are. This is way more than an "aww shucks feel-good story". I dare you not to have fun watching this film - you will not be able to sit still!

The Young at Heart Chorus is composed of a group of seniors (average age 81) whose performances include an eclectic assortment of toe-tappin' tunes ranging from Schizophrenia by Sonic Youth to Stayin' Alive by the Bee Gees. Check out this brilliantly tongue-in- cheek rendition of The Ramones' punk classic I Want to be Sedated:

Growing old is all in your head (and maybe your hip and your back and your hearing) - make the best of it and go enjoy the ride.
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Wending my way towards the light

Last night I had one of my flying dreams, only this time I was awake.

I soared up through the clouds, lifted by the sultry thundering voice of an unlikely angel...

When k.d. lang was a child, the gods reached down and gifted her with a voice for the ages. The sweet purity and luxuriant power of her stunning voice leaves me struggling for words that aren’t cloying or overwrought.

There are many days when, like Charlie Brown, I walk under a cloud that follows me from place to place but last night was one of those times when light punched through my shadowed world.

I wept silently in awe listening with eyes closed to her sublime rendition of The Valley. This was as close to any divine moments I’ve experienced. Words fail...

The Valley written by Jane Siberry (Issa)

Soaring up into the cool starry night sky, arms outstretched, guiding me over tree tops and turning, turning across wide open fields up towards the limitless stars, surrounded and carried on waves of melody.

What a voice, what a gift... thank you k.d. for those transcendent moments.
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Love is a mix tape

Anyone who came of age during the 80's or 90's has no doubt been the creator and/or the recipient of a mix tape. I certainly was, I even have memories of taping songs from the radio onto my funky white plastic portable cassette recorder/player (it was the late 70's, cut me some slack).

Mix tapes heralded the beginning of individuals creating, in effect, soundtracks for their own lives... self-publishing before the world of YouTube existed. The mix tape was the first step towards what we now take for granted in the modern world of 'pick & choose' MP3 music.

Most of you will remember the popular movie High Fidelity, based on Nick Hornby's book of the same title - a classic tribute to music and love and mix tapes. There was even a Friends episode in which Chandler gives Monica a mix tape for Valentine's Day - sufficed to say that despite his good intentions the evening did not end well.

Chris made me several CD compilations over the years. The first he titled Here's Hopin' and gave to me the summer we started going out - apparently he was smitten and wasn't afraid to let me know! Others included one for Valentine's Day entitled Better Than Flowers (hmmm) and a blues-themed one I received for a birthday entitled Don't Nobody Know My Troubles but God. He also made compilations for family and friends - sharing music was his way of telling them he loved them.

A while back a fellow librarian, knowing of Chris' death, recommended a book entitled Love is a Mix Tape by music journalist and life-long creator of mix tapes Rob Sheffield. The autobiographical book recounts his time in Charlottesville, Virginia during the 1990's where he fell head over heels in love with fellow mix tape aficionado Renée Crist "a hell-raising Appalachian punk-rock girl". Not quite six years after their wedding, Renée died very suddenly from a pulmonary embolism at the age of 31.

In many ways this book is Sheffield's tribute to Renée but it's also the story of his slow and sometimes painful musical journey back into the world of light and laughter. It's been described as the happiest, sad story you'll ever read. This is a funny and well-written story - I smiled and laughed throughout this book. Of course I cried as well - how could I not?

I think Chris would have enjoyed the story of Rob and Renée - he would have recognized wry similarities in the 'opposites attract' stories. (Although I'm sure he would have taken issue with some of the musical selections or the way they were put together. Like most music junkies, he was very opinionated about how to put together a great compilation - how the songs worked together was just as important as the songs themselves!)

If you enjoy a good mix tape, you'll enjoy this book. It will bring a smile to your face.
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Imagine... Iceland

One of Chris’ favourite musicians was John Lennon. In addition to John's musical talents, Chris admired his intellect and wit, his outspoken political and social activism, and his deep love for his family. I think we all recognize some similarities!

In October of this year, on what would have been John’s 67th birthday, Yoko Ono officially unveiled the Imagine Peace Tower on Videy Island, just off the coast of Iceland. The installation is a memorial to John and its tower of light, reaching into the sky, a beacon of hope for worldwide peace – a cause that John worked for and and sang about tirelessly.

Imagine by John Lennon

Chris often talked of one day visiting Iceland, especially after he discovered the band Sigur Rós who hail from that country. I’m not sure where his love of all things Nordic originated but I knew that we would one day see Iceland. I thought we would see it together... I was wrong.

I've made a promise to Chris that I will go to Iceland one day. I plan to scatter some of his ashes at Látrabjarg, an achingly beautiful area known for its fjords, soaring cliffs, and seabird colonies.

Glósóli by Sigur Rós

I think Chris would like that two of his musical favourites are now linked by geography and spirit. Iceland is a fascinating and beautiful country, rugged and cold, proud of its natural beauty and independent spirit… sounds kind of like home doesn't it?
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Chris' love song

Love Song (The Cure)

Whenever I'm alone with you
You make me feel like I am home again
Whenever I'm alone with you
You make me feel like I am whole again

Whenever I'm alone with you
You make me feel like I am young again
Whenever I'm alone with you
You make me feel like I am fun again

However far away
I will always love you
However long I stay
I will always love you
Whatever words I say
I will always love you
I will always love you

Whenever I'm alone with you
You make me feel like I am free again
Whenever I'm alone with you
You make me feel like I am clean again

However far away
I will always love you
However long I stay
I will always love you
Whatever words I say
I will always love you
I will always love you

Love Song by The Cure

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Water of life

A little while back Mark, an old of Chris’, e-mailed me and mentioned in passing a YouTube video he had come across which featured a photo slideshow of UWO library school students – including Chris! He had stumbled onto the video while searching for music by local Celtic band Uisce Beatha. Turned out that there were a lot of interesting coincidences as this story unfolded…

When I lived in Ottawa in the early '90's, I was good friends with a brother of Uisce Beatha’s bass guitarist and a group of us used to go see the band play whenever they came through town.

Years later when I met Chris, Uisce Beatha came up in conversation somehow or perhaps I saw one of their CDs in his collection. Turns out that during the same years that I saw them play in Ottawa, Chris and Mark were going to see them play in London regularly for the home town crowd!

Jason, the creator of the YouTube video, "Rarin' Librarians", was a former TA student of Chris' at library school. It turns out that Jason’s decision to include the Usice Beatha song “Old South London” as background music for the video was influenced by Chris.

Jason did a blog post about creating a SW Ontario playlist and Chris, the music guru, submitted a few songs that fit the bill, including "Old South London". Jason had never heard the song before - even though he too had seen the band live in concert - but he realized that it was a perfect soundtrack choice when he was creating his library school slideshow.

None of us knows if Chris was even aware of the video’s existence - but I know that he would have enjoyed it! And he would definitely appreciate the myriad of social networking connections in this tale – nodding his head knowingly with that wry smile and a twinkle in his blue eyes. We’re all connected, in past and future, in more ways than we can even imagine.
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Voice of the voyager

Earlier this month I went away on a trip – my first since Chris passed away. It was a journey of many moods and meanings – some unexpected. Travelling alone for the first time since his death, I brought along his beloved iPod on my trip.

More than simply portable entertainment, it brought me into Chris’ world in a way that I had not entirely expected and brought Chris along with me on a journey where I thought I would be alone.

While I enjoy music, I am not a music lover by nature in the way that Chris was. He experienced music. He breathed and felt and tasted music. Chris internalized and expressed the spiritual, rational, and emotional voices of his life’s journey through music.

I had forgotten how different music sounds and feels when using headphones. The music pours right into your head – into your body – no longer simply surrounding you but spilling out from within. This was how I felt listening to Chris’ music on my journey. He was within me and surrounding me. I felt his love of music and tasted his love of life.
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From Belarus with love

I received the following message from Chris' friend Yuri, whom he met while studying in Belarus in '95-'96. [Thanks to Yuri for providing the photo!]

Yuri, Natka and Chris - Rock 'n Roll Forever!

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It was just yesterday when I was happy telling everyone this wonderful story about an old friend of mine with whom I had lost contact, and who had managed to locate my email address and send me a message. He had many people here in Belarus, my fellow-students, who do remember him, and I'm sure they will also be sad at the news.

Everyone here in Belarus remembers Chris as a very nice and friendly guy who was constantly interested in what was happening in our country. For some time, he represented all Canadians here and by looking at him and interacting with him, I created my own image of Canada and Canadians. As a native speaker of English, he helped us a lot in our studies and took an active part in our student activities.

I particularly remember those days when I planned to play an unplugged guitar session for a group of my colleague students at Chris's farewell party but couldn't handle the English-language lyrics of some of the rock classics. Chris helped me out with this. He was patiently listening to Bob Dylan and Eagles trying to hear what they sing and wrote the lyrics on paper so that I could learn them and sing. I also remember his stories about Canada, about ice hockey teams and London and Toronto music night clubs.

Several times he invited me to visit him in Canada, but I couldn't manage for financial reasons at that time. I've traveled all over the world since then but never visited Chris because I didn't have his contact info and the letters sent to his old address bounced back to me for some reason. This time I was hoping that I could invite him to visit our part of the world. Chris will always be in my heart as a great friend and a very nice person. I'll miss him...

Brigitte's memories of Chris

This lovely message was sent to me by Brigitte, a friend and former colleague of Chris', who asked me to share it with others by posting it on the blog.

*************

Sandra: I have read all of your postings and have been deeply touched by them, by your profound love of Chris. I knew that is how it was for the two of you. This must be a very (extremely) painful time. Your ability to express your emotions is remarkable; clear and lucid. Knowing Chris, this is probably one aspect of you he really loved and enjoyed.

When I think of Chris, I often remember joining the Office of Learning Technologies in 2000. He worked there as a student for the summer. I recall conversations at the photocopier; Chris being interested in new people joining the team. I found him an interesting and different individual. He had an interesting mind.

At first, he was only there during the summer but eventually joined the team. We slowly became friends, exchanging ideas about the world, books, music, sharing opinions about what was going on in the office. He explained his condition to me and I began appreciating how he was dealing with it. We talked about it once in a while. I was curious about the processes around it and he was open about answering my questions. He knew I wanted to understand, to learn. He was good at explaining what was happening with his body and the balance of fluids that had to be kept. It made me realize the complications of fine bio-chemical imbalances most of us never have to think about, of the critical function of each organ.

About three years ago, he gave me his five-disk CD player, saying he couldn’t use it anymore (he had bought a multi-bank compact disk system – I think that is the name). He said he was looking for a ‘good home’ for the other one because it was a family gift to him. I have thought of Chris every single time I have put music on.

Whenever I found something was difficult, I reminded myself it couldn’t be as hard as what he was going through with his health. He was a model for me in that sense, being so placid about it, taking life one day at a time. Yes, time… I’m sure it has a very different feel and dimension for you, Sandra, at the moment. Thank you for sharing your loss, at least the part of it you are able to express.

Shine on my love

Music was one the of the most important things in Chris' life and I worried about picking just the right music for his memorial service. I invited two of his closest friends over to our apartment to help me choose pieces from his vast and eclectic collection. That evening was mostly spent talking - sharing our loss, our laughter, and our love for Chris.

In the end, the music played at Chris' service was really chosen by Chris himself. The summer we first starting going out, he prepared a compilation CD for me but also wrote up "liner notes" to accompany it. The notes included a paragraph or so on each selection, why he loved it and why he chose it for me. The notes also included the lyrics to each song.

Two of the pieces I chose for his memorial service were on that CD: Siciliana, Sonata BWV 1031 2nd Movement, by J.S. Bach and Across the Universe, by the Beatles. The third piece, Shine by Daniel Lanois, was a close runner-up for our first dance at our wedding. I chose to play it at Chris' memorial service because it is so beautiful - filled with light and love and hope - and says so much about how we felt about each other. Now, its words also serve as a light in this darkness. Chris' shine will show us all the way forward...

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Shine by Daniel Lanois

I have wandered far and wide
All the way from Paris to Mexico
'Til I was gone and didn't know

In the end the thing that keeps me walking
Is your shine, your shine in the morning, your shine in the distance,
Your shine inside the laughter and the ghosts

They have spoken of the river forever bending inside the fever
Of the saints that walk all night with no domain

In the end the thing that keeps them walking is your shine
Your shine when they wear no coat, your shine when the feelings low
Your shine when it's too late to turn around

I have frozen up my dreams, thinking I was all alone
Fighting every minute for each turning stone
I have reached the rocket speed
I have touched the ground that feeds
Scaling fences, looking for the healing sun

In the end the thing that keeps me walking is your shine
Your shine in transmissions, your shine in decisions,
Your shine when I labor to the new day,
It's your shine, your shine, your shine, shine, shine on
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These are a few of Chris' favourite things...

Interests/Hobbies: Cooking, Social Network Analysis (how ironic), Photography, Reading, Listening to Music, Chess, Cricket

Favorite Music: The Cure, John Lennon, Motown, Pixies, Catherine Wheel, Josh Rouse, Radiohead, Sigur Ros, Peter Gabriel, The Smiths, Belle and Sebastian, James, Daniel Lanois, Bonnie "Prince" Billy, My Morning Jacket, early Suede, Hot Hot Heat, REM, Tahiti 80, Manu Chao, Arcade Fire, Elliott Smith, The Decemberists, Leonard Cohen, Lucinda Williams, Rufus Wainwright, Louden Wainwright III, Martha Wainwright, Feist, Cat Power, James, Dumas, Depeche Mode, Elbow, The Dears, Modest Mouse, New Order, Beth Orton, Sloan, 54-40, Skydiggers, Neil Young

Favorite TV: Lost, Food Jammers, Food Network, Rick Mercer Report, The Hour, This Hour has 22 Minutes, Dead Like Me, Jeopardy

Favorite Books: What's Bred in the Bone, Les Miserables, The Englishman's Boy, Trumpet of the Swan, Brothers Karamazov, A Clockwork Orange, A Fine Balance, Power of One, High Fidelity, Fall on your Knees

David's Tribute to Chris

This heartfelt and beautiful eulogy was delivered by David, one of Chris' closest friends and his Best Man.

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Chris was my best friend. We were soul mates. "Soul brothas" he would probably say. We often joked about being brothers separated at birth. The fact that I am 4 months younger than Chris makes this a certain impossibility. We both grew up as sick children, me with my juvenile arthritis and Chris with his condition. We were self-motivated achievers that surprised and astounded our parents. And despite growing up as outsiders we shared a deep love for our own families and for humanity.

Chris and I were drawn together over many shared interests, not the least of which was an equal passion for music. Music is the shorthand for emotion. It can express the inexpressible. And as we all know, Chris was always trying to express the inexpressible. He was the only one I knew who could out-talk, out-analyze, out-categorize anyone on a subject he felt truly passionate about. He could go toe to toe with you on anything, because he had the brain, the heart and passion to match. Some are blessed with one of these talents, but Chris had all three in glorious abundance.

Chris had so many sides to him. He could at one moment talk about the most serious subjects and the next be a complete goof. I never quite understood where this came from. My inner goof is so badly underdeveloped. But Chris had a profound understanding of opposites as a natural law of the universe. "Without orange there is no blue." Without light there is no dark, without day there is no night. Without death, there is no life. Death brings meaning to life. Chris always knew this. He was given an early expiration date on his life, and that made all the difference in how he chose to live. He lived life to its fullest. He burned bright, with passion, with knowledge and most importantly with Love, because he knew on a deeper level than any of us, life's most precious value.

In the words of Tolstoy: "Seize the moments of happiness, love and be loved! That is the only reality in the world."

I was there when Sandra entered Chris' life. I saw a spark in him light and become increasingly brighter through the years. I was honoured to be part of Chris and Sandra's wedding day last fall and rejoice in such a happy time for such a truly amazing couple. Sandra brought out the very best in Chris. They were a perfect match of opposites and this only strengthened over time. Recently I saw their relationship blossom even more as they continued to plan a future together. There is no doubt in my mind that Chris was at his happiest right at the end. And of course, Sandra had everything to do with this.

We are all struggling with the sudden, unexpected, unfair loss of such a wonderful and unique person. As I grieve with you, I'm also as a friend, rejoicing right now for Chris. Rejoicing in the way he left the world, full of life, full of hopes, full of dreams, and full of love. His heart was so full it literally burst.

He protected us so often from the realities of his sickness. He accepted his fate, but he didn't want us to dwell in that world. He wanted us to live life. He used to tell me that he hated being called a hero. He just wanted to be. Day after day, week after week he would go into dialysis and see his future staring back at him. He knew what lay ahead. We all had hopes for him, but he did not shy away from the cold hard facts. He dreaded the deathbed scenario, wasting away, thinking not only what it would do to him and his spirit, but what it would do those closest to him. If he had one wish, it would have been to leave the world in a blaze of happiness, in a blaze of hope, in the arms of his beloved. For all he did for the world, and for us, the universe gave him this very special reward.

I used to tease Chris about his sometimes cheesy taste in music. He didn't shy away from things that were over the top. Give him a 12-minute large anthematic rock song and he was in his glory. If it was sung in falsetto by an Icelandic singer all the better. He would sit on the edge of his seat and point out places of crescendo, drumming passionately as the guitars and music swelled to even higher heights. With Chris there were no limits. He would air drum or air guitar his way to the final chord, smiling, happy and at one with the universe. I like to think of him now, that way, and think that this is how he played out his last days with Sandra and with the rest of us.

If Chris could speak to us now, I'm sure he would like to use the words of Shakespeare's Puck, featured in Chris favourite film Dead Poet's Society:

"If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, and all is mended,
That you have but slumber'd here
While these visions did appear.
And this weak and idle theme,
No more yielding but a dream,
Gentles, do not reprehend:
if you pardon, we will mend.
And, as I am an honest Puck,
If we have unearned luck
Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue,
We will make amends ere long;
Else the Puck a liar call;
So, good night unto you all.
Give me your hands, if we be friends,
And Robin shall restore amends."

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Now the hungry lion roars,
And the wolf behowls the moon;
Whilst the heavy ploughman snores,
All with weary task fordone.

Now the wasted brands do glow,
Whilst the screech-owl, screeching loud,
Puts the wretch that lies in woe
In remembrance of a shroud.

Now it is the time of night
That the graves, all gaping wide,
Every one lets forth his sprite,
In the church-way paths to glide:

And we fairies, that do run
By the triple Hecate's team,
From the presence of the sun,
Following darkness like a dream,
Now are frolic; not a mouse
Shall disturb this hallow'd house:
I am sent with broom before,
To sweep the dust behind the door.

Dennis & Ryan's Tribute to Chris

This loving and intimate family portrait of Chris was delivered by his dad Dennis and his brother Ryan.

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Last Sunday was a special day for Canadians everywhere and the Dixon household was no exception as we gathered for a day of fun, celebrating and enjoying a good meal. What was different for us though was that often on Canada Day we’d be doing our own thing and usually, scattered about the area at different venues. It was the first time in nearly a decade I wasn’t away on a golf trip in Michigan and finally the whole family was living close enough together that we were all able to make it home for the day.

If we could have choreographed our finally time together as a family, the script would have read exactly as it unfolded with everyone laughing, reminiscing, discussing some current events issues, and lots of general friendly family ribbing of each other.

At one point, the conversation turned to facial hair. We examined Chris’ goatee and I remember looking at his face and thinking how great he appeared, his face full and eyes sparkling as they always did when life was good for him.

Friends, this is the Chris that we all need to remember for he was a stoic person but not at all somber, and would want us to remember him and all the wonderful experiences many of us shared with him.

For most of the years in Chris’s short time with us, so many of his wonderful qualities were for the most part only shared by those of us who were really close to him. And even then he sometimes was a little shy and seemed guarded of his feelings when a crowd was around because it was his nature to observe and be a quiet part of what was happening. Then… enter Sandra Miller, a feisty, independent, young lady that Chris met while studying at Western. He probably thought she would be just another of his many academic connections that would pop in and out of his life occasionally. However, this time he had stumbled upon a lady friend that could not only match his wit, debate anything he chose to debate, but also shared so many interests that he held dear, and as a bonus was gorgeous and available.

Friends, this relationship truly became a match made in heaven, and with that one missing part in his life now present we saw for the last several years of Chris’s life a metamorphosis of sorts, where everything that Chris had kept closely guarded within himself began to surface and even bubble over at times and the rest of world got to see and enjoy the real Christopher. The time they had together I know was easily the happiest of his life and he would not have traded in one minute of it for anything.

Now, if during any of the moments here today you think you detect a slight whisper in your ear. That would be Christopher, the ultimate researcher pursuing his thirst for information. You see he was working toward his doctorate on social networking. So the types of whisperings you’re likely to be hearing are “Who contacted you?” “How was the contact made?” ”Did you contact anyone else?” “Why did you decide to make contact?” “And how was it done?” Folks, if you do hear him, kindly whisper back your response as he is a pit-bull of persistence when it comes to research.

Chris - I think everyone who knew him would agree - would not exactly be described as the out-going, happy-go-lucky kind of guy who steals the attention of everyone around him, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t funny. In fact, over time, he developed a wicked, well-defined humor that delighted his friends and family - not to mention keeping them on their toes.

After watching a televised competition of the Reach for the Top trivia team that Chris was part of in high school, I made the observation that, while there were four students on the team, there might as well have been only two: Meredith, who answered about 90 per cent of questions and Chris who handled the other 10 per cent. I brought this to Chris’ attention and – reflecting upon this comment – he said to me “I prefer to think about it this way; I answered 100 per cent of the questions Meredith didn’t answer.”

His humor was again on display as recently as last Sunday while our family gathered for Canada Day at our house. Having noticed there were three people - Chris’ grandma , his mother, and his uncle Brad - all using canes to help them walk for a variety of reasons, I suggested maybe we could host the gimpy Olympics in our front lawn. First, Connie and Brad could race, then Janis could take on the winner. Upon hearing this Chris said, “Well, I’d better get inside and tell mom the three-legged races are about to begin.”

Chris had some grave medical conditions. And they seemed to really flare up whenever it came time for him to move from one apartment to another. Let me tell you though, he had the art of moving co-ordinator fine tuned to a science. He had no trouble prioritizing which boxes my dad and I should move first and which ones we should be most concerned with treating delicately. And it never ceased to amaze me that no matter which friend he enlisted to help with the move always performed the role of assistant moving co-ordinator so admirably.

A voracious reader and movie watcher, Chris set very rigid pop culture guidelines in our house. I think one of the first traumatic shocks to his system was when the first cassette tapes I bought were of the dreaded rap genre.

Chris loved big ideas, but he hated small talk. I noticed this trait most when I spoke to him on the phone. At first I used to think his tendency to go silent for what seemed like an eternity between thoughts was a touch awkward, but I soon learned there was no reason to scramble and try to fill the air. Just give the man time and he’d be on to another big thought soon enough.

Despite being born smack in the middle of the famous 1972 Canada-Russia Summit Series and growing quickly to an imposing 6-foot-2 frame, athletics were never really a big part of Chris’s life. That’s why I’m all the more appreciative of the fact he, upon figuring out his sporty younger brother was probably never going to come to him with questions about math or science, he tried to bridge a seven-year sibling gap by going out of his way to adopt my team - the Montreal Canadians - as his team and always using sports as a means to initiate conversations with me in the hopes they would be a springboard into talks about more important matters. Often, they were.

Chris, always a music lover, definitely marched to the beat of his own drum. He never succumbed to peer pressure, always preferring to stay true to his own beliefs and values. With his love of music and unique tendencies in mind, I was curious to hear what he and Sandra would choose as their wedding song when they took their first dance as husband and wife last September. I knew none of the tried and true (i.e. songs Chris would consider boring) would make the grade. Sure enough, when the couple finally hit the floor it wasn’t to the tune of the Karen Carpenter standard “We’ve Only Just Begun” but in true Chris fashion he and Sandra lightheartedly stepped out to the very distinct sound of Kermit the Frog strumming his banjo and pondering the connection between all those songs about rainbows.

Chris, like Kermit and you and the rest of us, none of us really knows what waits for us on the other side of the rainbow, I truly hope that the rainbow connection is a place for dreamers and lovers and you.

Son, I want you to know the connections we all experienced with you - me , your mom, Grandma, Ryan , Sandra and each of your friends, - have left indelible impressions with us that will never be forgotten.