Shane Belcourt
May 22nd, 2006

Hi, my name’s Shane.  Welcome to my Blog.

I know Blog doesn’t mean internet dating service, but I feel like I should start off with a little bit of a profile before we get this whole thing going.  So, sit back and try not to slip into a coma as I introduce myself to you.

I was born on December 30th, 1972, five days after baby Jesus.  The only real significance with that is I have been hosed my entire life.  Turns out anyone born so close after the western world at large celebrates the birth of baby jesus, showering their loved ones with gifts, racking up debt, and gaining weight at various family dinners packed throughout the two-week vacation that is the Christmas holidays, is that celebrating the date of my birth is rendered meaningless and tiresome.  So, gift wise, and this includes my immediate family, I get the two for one.  “Hey bud, here’s a KISS t-shirt.  Note the card, it’s got the happy b-day and merry x-mas right on there bud.”

Also, please note about the date of my birth, that it falls one day before the new year celebration, the birth of a big wide open new year.  And how do we all celebrate that new year’s eve day? With fireworks and $40 shots of something I don’t know the name of (I don’t partake, I sit out in protest). Which means, what kind of energy do you have to party like its 1999 on the 30th?  If I told you, “tomorrow night we’re all going to go out and have the night of our entire lives, it’s going to make the YEAR!”  Would you also want to go out tonight and celebrate something I feel is really special also?  Well, not really, why blow all the energy.  Besides you’re already tired from the holidays as it is.  So, really, fuck me.

And to top this all off, if it could get any worse, I married a very lovely young woman - who with her father’s investment as well, bought a home in which I also live and don’t pay the mortgage for so I have to watch my words here – happens to have been born on December 29th.  Which means, if we are going to go out and celebrate my birthday, why would we go out on the 30th?  With their actions now, friends are saying this to me: “We’re married and in our thirties, which means we all have the same friends, let’s go out on one night, the 29th since it gives us more time to get prepared for new years, and do a two for one birthday – you AND her in one night.  And in fact, why not go one further, and why get 2 Christmas presents and 2 birthday presents for the happy couple?  Fuck it.  One gift for the whole fucking thing – there you go – a $40 Chapters gift certificate so you can go buy a book for the two of you.”

And to the topper is, my dear wife doesn’t care for birthday parties, she never really celebrates them, and doesn’t like to make a big deal about them.  So, we all go out now on the 29th and do the 4 for 1 gift ‘celebration’ and the person who blows out the candles for the one cake that covers it for both of us, my dear wife, really doesn’t give a rats ass about the whole sanctity of celebrating one’s birth.

Now, we’re always asked to put pain and hardship into context, and I often do.  I look around at the homeless people, at the faces of longing and hungry around the world and my heart says to them: “I hear ya brother.”

And on the theme of context, one last little thing about me: my name.  I was named after the first film my father ever saw.  He saw it on a TV the neighbors bought and he stared through their window and watched what was on.  It was ‘Shane’ with Alan Ladd.  It’s a fine western about a really White cowboy who reluctantly accepts the calling and challenge that he is a savior and he takes on the bad guys who have over-run the town and Shane restores order.  Pretty sure he gets the girl in the end.  A true hero.  My dad loved the movie and he named me after it, really in honour of it.  Which is cool.  Only weird thing is, my Dad’s an Indian, so at best you could say it’s a weird choice.

Other than that, I’m 33 and I live in a nice little starter home with my dear wife and two cats in Toronto.  My dear wife sleeps diagonally across our small bed with the two cats curled up around her, as I try to hang on a slim sliver by the window where the street light shines in my eyes and my arms go numb draped over the edges of the bed as I fall asleep until I wake up to another day of planet Shane.

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