I finished writing a book recently called, Potholes and Picket Fences. It's a story of my life, from infancy to early adulthood. I realized a few important stories didn't make in. Here is just one.  Waiting for whispers I learned to grow physically with a little help from science. I spoke on that at length in the book.  I learned to grow spiritually with the influence of two women: my mother and grandmother. They had convinced me that God was calling. Being one in seven kids in a French-Canadian Catholic family, they thought I was best suited for the job; I was the only one who didn’t complain about going to church every Sunday. They say the call is often a whisper, if so, I think I should've had my hearing checked. I would often seat on the steps of my grade school and look across the street at our church. I listened and heard crickets. Come and see My spiritual advisor Father Janise, who looked like bob hope -without the nose- helped me along my vocati...

My grandmother on my father side, stayed at our house for a weekend. Her job was to take care of my other grand mother. We were busy teenagers and we were angels. Okay maybe not. But staying home is something we didn't do much, especially, with the added supervision. Had we been home, we would have seen what happened at the scene of the crime. My mother had chest freezer filled with a side of beef. There was a bunch of mouths to feed and apparently my grandmother thought that included her. They were only going away for a couple days. What could happen? They would soon find out. What's in the bag? They came home after the weekend away and it was time for my father to drive McGregor meme' home. He wondered why her suitcase felt heavier than the other day but thought nothing of it. My mom hated deciding what to make for supper but felt confident because she knew she had many options waiting in the chest freezer. There was only one problem. The freezer was cleared out.  ...

When I was a kid, I kept wondering when it would happen. After a little help from science things started taking off. A word of warning: Be careful what you wish for. I hit puberty late and it kind of just won't go away.  I have been a Peter Sellers fan my whole life. Peter Sellers was a hairy man. I have seen guys wearing hair sweaters in the pool; It wasn't a good look. Then one day I looked into the mirror and saw something. It was a Jekyll and Hyde moment. Well, I wanted to hide but I couldn’t. I was morphing into Inspector Clouseau, right before my eyes.  Yes, I know, that you know, that I know, I am a sasquatch. There was a time when I hid my hairless body. Now I run around like a five-foot nine-inch ape looking for a tree to hide behind. A hairy chest I would have been okay with. Everyone loved Bert Reynolds, but I didn't ask for my shoulders and back to get jealous.  It's a cruel joke. I hit my sixties with sixty percent of my body covered in hair.  The ...

It was our first camping trip to Elora Gorge conservation area. It would be one that we'd never forget.  Drivers in a storm My girlfriend and others waited for our arrival. We almost didn't make it. The two and half hour drive should have been easy enough. The weather decided that easy, was not an option. The rain followed us from our home in Windsor Ontario. The time we made up speeding down highway was lost driving the rural roads outside Elora Ontario. We were lost. We dodged lighting bolts that seemed to crash beside us. We were losing hope until we spotted a church. Looking for a sign The muddy parking lot was packed with vehicles. We liked our chances, so we decided to walk inside and ask for directions. The irony was uncanny; Two lost souls, looking for hope. Inside we could hear a what  could  only  be described as a cult speaking in tongues; that's what it sounded like. We had survived the frightful storm but feared something bigger: The ...