Radical Red River of Robson

When the sixteen days the world knows as the Olympic Games dawned, nothing could have prepared me for the change of heart I experienced. In the weeks prior to the games, I was mostly uncaring about the Olympics, except for brief moments that I became decidedly sceptical. But all that changed on the night of the Opening Ceremonies in a way that can only be described as RADICAL.

The concept of the Olympics themselves is radical; a movement towards international peace through sport and culture. The Olympics bring out patriotism in individuals and bring countries together like no other event. The International Olympic Committee have even gone so far as to create the philosophy of Olympism, which “seeks to create a way of life based on the joy of effort, the educational value of good example and respect for universal fundamental ethical principles.” Beyond just the idea of the Olympics, everything about our city holding the Olympics is radical. Greater Vancouver has undergone radical changes in the past few years, constructing and developing to make these two weeks the absolute best that they can be. Vancouver has also been filled with unending energy; Downtown Vancouver is more like an amusement park than a city centre, filled with multicultural pavilions with numerous hour line ups, an unending number of street performers, and free concerts. Even more radical are the protesters taking violent action against the Olympics, and over-excited fans protesting against the protesters. Finally, the events themselves are incredible, and to be so near to them and to cheer in unison with the rest of the city is radical.

To me, the Olympics are not only radical in the sense of change, but also in the sense of excellent and awe-inspiring. I think it’s brilliant to be able to scream my lungs raw and sing the national anthem with riotous pride whenever Canada wins a gold medal. I think it’s incredible to see people that have travelled from all around the world to see this city that we take for granted. I think it's amazing to see that Robson Street has been transformed into a river of red and white. And I think it’s radical that the 2010 Winter Olympics are in my backyard.

A Jumble of Abbreviations

In this world of constant change that we live in, new ideas and ideals often need to be accepted and embraced. There are also changes in our world that some deem to be negative and unbeneficial. Computer language and texting abbreviations are a sweeping change in western society, and dynamic and debated issues in our culture. Many would argue that texting slang is the language of the future; a more efficient form of communication. But I feel that this new and evolving “dialect” is a result of pure laziness. A major cause of this is the instantaneous nature of modern technology, which has created a culture of impatience.
When change compromises a population’s articulation and ability to express itself properly, it shouldn’t be embraced, but stopped. The English language is a beautiful result of thousands of years of development, but in a very short time we have seen it change drastically. If we continue down the path of computer language, the English language will fall apart. Poetry will no longer be flowing stanzas filled with symbolism and metaphors, but a jumble of abbreviations and acronyms. If texting slang is taught in the education system, students will struggle to read even recent literature. Older generations will become even more cut off from the youth, as people that came before cell phones and internet will have difficulty communicating in the new form of English. Although this may seem extreme, with our current pace of change and our cultures easy acceptance these problems may become real issues all too soon. That is why we as individuals and as a culture should be wary of computer language and texting abbreviations, and ask ourselves: What could result from our laziness?

The Ability To Pursue Joy

We knelt in a circle, heads bowed and arms around each others shoulders. I could feel my own body shake and my heart beat like an overexcited marching band. The beads of sweat on the four of our heads and palms were forgotten in this moment of brotherly love and exuberance. "We pray that our music tonight would bring your joy and love to our audience, and that this first concert would glorify you, God." Vince's voice was thick with emotion, as his slow blessing met each of our ears. His shoulders trembled, synchronized with ours. The "Amen" echoed as we each spoke out our belief. But that echo reverberating in my head was instantly joined by another sound, a sound that sent a shiver of anticipation down my spine. The crowds wild cheers filled my head, a deafening yet distant roar that overwhelmed my senses. We stood and walked out onto the stage.

Nothing could have prepared me for that moment, that first step marking a new era in my life. The smell of new wood and perspiration filled my nostrils, and the taste of excitement on my tongue brought a wave of heat across my face. There before me was an expanse of blackness like a canyon at night. Lights glared with intense heat and brightness, and although my vision was rendered useless, the utter brilliance of the noise that erupted from that black expanse told me that the wonderful yet terrifying audience could see me.

I stepped into position on the right side of the stage. Euphoria welled inside me as I looked to see Vince, Brandon and Jeremy preparing their instruments, their eyes glassy with awe. I myself swung the strap of my Gibson SG electric guitar over my shoulder, and ran my wet palm down the smooth and familiar neck of my beloved instrument. A thought overwhelmed me, and penetrated my very heart. Here, on stage with my brothers, I was home. No feeling of contentedness in all my life compared to this moment, where dreams and reality and friendship and music all collided in one magnificent moment.

And now the moment was here, as each of our arms raised in preparation for that first deafening note. My fingers moved effortlessly into position, gliding with little resistance along the rough strings. Our arms fell towards our instruments in unison, guitar picks and drum sticks flying with expert precision in downward motion. Everything became slow as time lost its meaning and my senses were filled with that first glorious, resounding note. My ears dove into the noise, my legs shook with the power of the sound. My eyes took in the looks of joy on the crowd's now visible faces, and my fingers flew across the fretboard as naturally as a bird flies. My own voice filled the concert hall as I leaned into the microphone, our endlessly rehearsed harmonies washing over the crowd like a wave.

Each song brought bliss beyond compare to me and my fellow musicians, and I was wholly unaware of the crowds reaction to each song. I don't remember when we started a song or when we finished, as our whole set became a milestone blur of joy and sound, intertwined to become nothing less than perfection in my eyes. As I belted out my final notes, I wondered if we would receive an encore. In my confusion and abundant excitement I worriedly wondered what song we would play. And although we never did receive an encore, I received something much greater.

I received the realization that passion can meet reality, and moments can redefine joy and maturity for each of us, even when we do not realize it. In my life leading up to that concert and even in the moments prior to stepping onto that stage, I didn't know what true joy looked like in my life. But that feeling of comfort and passion that I found when I stepped onto that stage was without a doubt true joy. And to me, that's what maturity is. The ability to find my true passion, and having the commitment and will-power to pursue that passion for the rest of my life. Because of that, this concert was the single most important milestone on my journey to maturity.