Here's a question for you: how long have you known your best friend? A few years? Maybe a decade? Since college?

How many can say that they've had a best friend since before kindergarten? Well, I can ... and it's a very cool thing indeed.

I've had the good fortune of knowing Richard since I was 3 or 4 ... and yes, that would be 38 or 39 years now! You think it's a long time - but when you look back on it, you realize that it's all gone by so quickly and goes faster every day. It seems like yesterday that we were in kindergarten together - and yes, I do vaguely remember that. Growing up in a small town, it's pretty easy to envision going to the same elementary school and the same high school. And what never ceases to amaze me most is that no matter how long we've not spoken to each other or seen each other, when we pick back up again it's like no time has passed. We invariably pick up where we left off last time.

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I'll be the first to admit that I can get caught up in the "day-to-day" as much as anyone. Suddenly, you turn around and look at the calendar and :::poof::: another week (or month - insert appropriate time factor here) has gone by without a trace. Or at least it seems like it's without a trace.

When I was a child, I can remember always thinking that it was such a long time to wait until my birthday ... or Christmas ... or any other day of note. You know how it is as a kid - time seems to plod along. It seems like forever for the summer to start. School seems to drag on forever. My birthday could never get here fast enough (note to self - my oh my how THAT perspective has changed!). I can always remember my mother telling me that I should enjoy it now because as I got older, the time would seem like it was just flying by me.

Of course, as a child, what an adult says doesn't necessarily have a lot of credibility or relevance. And, worse yet, if it's your parents telling you that, then how much can it be believed or trusted, right? It's your parents!! What do they know?!

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This week marked a significant passing for me, a date and time that won't be easily forgotten.

It was May 8, 1982. Twenty five years ago this past week. And what made this date so important?

It was the day that Gilles Villeneuve died.

So the next question I'm sure is "Who is Gilles Villeneuve?", yes?

In 1982, I was a 16 year old that had a fascination with Formula One racing. Actually, in all reality, I had a fascination with almost any type of auto racing - excluding NASCAR (which to me, is a whole different issue). It was a time when I was pondering the possibility of becoming an automotive engineer. But I didn't want to be just any automotive engineer - I wanted to design Formula One racing cars for Ferrari.

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Photojournalists are an amazing breed. The ability to catch a moment in time - perfectly - on film - is an incredible skill. For the photographer, it's all about being in the right place at the right time - and yes, timing (and location!) IS everything. Photojournalism - or photography in general - is always something I have held in very high esteem. The ability to compose an image in the space of the viewfinder, and to do it "on the fly" (or perhaps under intense pressure or extreme circumstances) - now that is a skill to behold.

This was almost my chosen profession.

I had a camera in my hands from my earliest memories. My father was a photographer - a hobbyist, and certainly not a photojournalist - but he exposed me to the world of photography at an early age. I can remember my first Instamatic ... and then my first 35mm camera (an Olympus OM-10 that my father had won in a contest). I was hooked. Eventually, I took photos for the school yearbook. I developed an admiration of the skill required to take a good photo ... and the difference between a good photo and a great one.

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If you were to ask any of the people I've known over the years, they would probably tell you that I am goal-oriented. I enjoy the focus that comes with having a task, setting a plan, being passionate about the process, and heading towards the goal. Sometimes that may be a totally single-minded flurry of activity to get there ... and in others, it's a methodical stepwise process to inch steadily towards the destination.

I used to think it was all about the goal - and attaining it.

In recent times, I have discovered that it is truly all about the process ... and though goals do help to define the road we're on, they are not the "be all and end all" in the mix. Life involves growth, and within that growth lies the opportunity for evolving focus, process, perspective, and how we define ourselves.

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This would have to be my word for the week:

"Incomprehensible:
–adjective: impossible to understand or comprehend; unintelligible; impossible to know or fathom.
-synonyms: baffling, bewildering, obscure."

I guess it all started off with the slayings at Virginia Tech. An event like this is simply not within our comprehension. There aren't many people that can say that they truly understand the magnitude of the suffering, anguish, or horror. As I've heard said before - "not until you've walked a day in my mocassins".

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April 4th came and went this year ... and it amazes me how little was said about it. I asked my class why the date of April 4, 1968 was important. No response. In some ways I wasn't surprised - and in others, I was mortified.

Here's something to think about - a Canadian that can recite the date of Martin Luther King's assassination - and why we all should care.

It befuddles me how this can be so far removed from the national psyche. King - perhaps the greatest civil rights leader of our time, the man who forged the speech from August 28, 1963 containing the stark lines "I have a dream", words that could speak to so many across all racial borders - forgotten?

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