Everything Old is New Again
I could hear them both gasp. It was -12C and I had shimmied out to the end of the extension at the 120’ height of the crane, without gloves, without a safety harness on an extension which was just an inverted triangle.
A Love Letter from Goldie
“I’ve taught her how to love. How to love with all her heart. Taught her to understand that it can be painful sometimes. I know she’ll be very sad when I die but I hope she’ll understand that it is the best way to live, it’s the only way to live. To be in love is okay, tears and all, it’s okay.”
Leave My Family Alone
My family matters to me. Stay the hell away from it. Don’t you dare co opt one of the greatest words in the English language for your corporate purpose. Show some bloody respect and leave ‘family’ alone! Leave my family alone.
Place Peyton
Throughout my adult life I have been asked to run for various political positions and my answer has always been ‘no’. Like a hard NO! I suppose many who know me might be surprised at that.
I’m Aware That Some Stare at my Ear Hair
Baby boomers loved their hair. The longer the better, a generational counter culture rejection of all things that had come before. And what did we care? We were young and we were always going to be young! I trusted my hair.
Of Mice and Men
Now work with me here. Just suppose you could live until say, one hundred and ten, or one hundred and twenty, in equivalent health. Would you want to? For me the answer is simple: In a New York second. Yes!
A Prickly Topic
‘I’ve been wanting to write about ‘the penis’ for a long time now but I had no reason to. Nothing happened to trigger the writing, there’s no amusing anecdote to kick it off. I can’t even offer you any contextual framing. Nothing. But I’ve decided to write it anyway. It is pure indulgence. I just […]
Council of The Wise
I think there should be a rule. No one over seventy can run for political office and there should be term limits requiring retirement if an elected politician turns seventy while still in office.
The Goat People of Deep Bay
From May 1st to September 30th each year my wife Mac and I live in a small conclave of about one hundred senior citizens, about an hour north of Nanaimo, BC. It is also the summer home to the wildest congregation of characters I have ever known. It’s where Schitt’s Creek meets a seniors home.
Oh, Canada!
This was me at eight. Wide eyed and uncomplicated. I wish all of you could see our country through the eyes of a naive eight year old immigrant English boy. It was a sight to behold, special in the moment, special in my memory. I remember when we were getting ready to leave for Canada, […]