Halloween is here, the one day of the year, where I can be strange on purpose. All the other days I'm strange accidentally, on purpose. I got to admit, I still enjoy looking and acting strange. -Sort of my persona. However, there have been times when I did step over the line I was trying to draw. Case in point; dressing in drag. -No thank you. I regret to inform you that it did happen once. Not on purpose. And if it wasn't funny, I could pass on the embarrassment, but I like a funny story, so I'll chance the blow to my ego. It was for a murder mystery. There was only one rule: Who you picked, was who you had to be. No questions asked. So, I stuck my hand in the hat and pulled out a blonde bombshell. I immediately broke the rules. I had questions. One was a mournful, why? The other was, who was going to dress me up? Guinea pig make-over number one I was a girl only once before when I was a youngster. No, I didn't go to school a boy and came home the same day a gir...

It was a lovely spring day. The sky was blue, the grass was green and the balls were white. I was having a great round until one hole. The one hole that turns a great round into just walk in the park and search and recue mission. I was feeling like the Bill Murray chopping down the flowers in Caddy Shack. (Insert my cheesy Bill Murray impression here) Smooth it out there I start talking out of the side of my twisted lipped face . Looks like he's got a four iron,  maybe a five. Then Howard Cosell makes a ghostly appearance to the golf course. Here he is folks, a Cinderella story, out of Southwestern Ontario . He's imagining the shot. He is feeling it. Believing it. He steps up. The swing. Oh, what a sight. Straight down the middle. Should be in perfect position Jim . -I don’t know who Jim is or how he got in the story, but I digress.   All he has left is a one-hundred-and-twenty-yard chip . I walk up confident and ready for the approach shot that's when I notice that t...

My mother had a sevetny-three, three toned Ford Maverick. The colors were brown, tan and rust.  Back then five dollars got me a quarter tank of gas and a little freedom. It was enough gas to get me to Saint Clair beach and to Saint Gregory's Church for choir practice. Faith unlimited is a travelling choir group and I was one of a few singers/guitar players.  Practice always started with what we called a family circle. "My song is soft can you hear it" was a song we sang together before practice.  There is a girl who caught my eye. Apparently she caught another guys eyes too. Me and this guy had something in common; we both wore same style of cap and we both set out sights on this one girl. She wore a hat too. In fact it seemed she always had a hat on, hiding her curly blonde hair. I found her strangely intriguing. We began to hang out. I'd meet her at church parking lot down the road from her house and even though I knew she was secretly seeing the guy who looked like...

    It is early morning and like many early mornings, the reason why I can't sleep is that inspiration wants to speak. Softly tugging, until I start to stir and then finally to rise and walk over to my desk. I look out my office window, and the world is black at least that's the view. I wonder if Hemingway did the same. I have a picture of the view from his desk as a screen saver on my laptop.   A view of Havana miles away. Two huge Prince palm trees frame the landscape, with miles of greenery eventually surrendering itself to the city beyond and below. I wonder if he could smell from the top of his oasis, the aroma of the salty sea, mixed with the ever-present stench of unrefined diesels. Did he, like me, stare out in the blackness hoping for light. Did the ink ever dry waiting for words. Like my fingers hovering just above the keys, wondering if the magic is going to happen. I am up before the sun and the birds this morning, so it seems. It will be a couple ho...

We play cards every other Tuesday at my sister's house. Oliver the cat is the Prince of the house. When his loyal subjects (my sister and husband) mention that my partner and I are coming over he will leave his throne (a suction cup lounge chair stuck on the window) and meet us at the door. But he isn't really interested in us as much as he is interested in escaping the condo to run down the hallway. We think he is waiting for us to acknowledge his princely persona as he allows us to pat his head and if we are lucky a tummy rub. I never rub his tummy, I have seen what happens to my brother inlaw when it goes from a tummy rub to rough housing.  The cat is smart enough to know when it is suppertime and he eats his at the same time. After supper we talk a bit and then it time for cards. This is when the cat will do one of two things. Jump on the counter to see what we had to eat or walk back to the window throne but not before he gets kicked of the counter a few times....

Funny thing happened at the gas pump. I know there’s nothing funny about gas or the price of it but thanks to the redneck in front of me, I did have a little chuckle.   He was filling up his three-tone (brown, white and rust) supercharged truck. He must have been in a hurry; he didn’t even have time to dress. I could tell he was pissed off. Probably because he wanted to race to the next red light and had to stop for gas along the way. Now, I’m not the kind of guy who questions other people’s attire, but on this day I did. He was wearing a bath robe and slippers. Before I move on, I want to offer a tip. Never get gas behind a pickup truck at Native Canadian gas station. I will guarantee you he is packing a shit ton of jerry cans in the payload. This guy clearly had no shame. After the fill up, he walked in to pay and filled up an envelope with lottery tickets before leaving. There I was waiting right behind Cousin Eddie from Christmas vacation. Sometimes I feel like I’m bein...