It’s interesting how you can go through life for so long thinking about not only acting, but being a particular way because you think that it’s helpful to others – but really, you’re just being an ignorant knob and you should have given your head a shake a long time ago. Continue reading
Are You Ready
I sit here writing and watching/listening to The Tragically Hip’s final concert, and I can’t help but feel the tears building up. I’m not usually one to write outpourings of sentiment over things like this – that’s just the way that I am. However, in this instance I thought I would contribute to the online collective of Gordery by talking about some of my favourite Hip moments. Continue reading
End of an Era
Earlier this evening we bid a tearful farewell to our remaining cat, Laila. My brain is in limbo at the moment, because it was not an easy decision (it never really is, though) – and there was greater emotional weight with the added presence of the rest of the family at the end of her time. If you’re looking for some history, I would recommend that you read about the origin of our felines here.
A Rolling Apple Gathers No Dogs
I went for a walk last night, to get a little exercise and clear my head from a review that I was struggling with on Toronto Thumbs. I ended up leaving the house fairly late, but I didn’t plan on going for long, so it wasn’t really a big deal. Suffice to say that the streets were pretty empty.
In my travels, I grabbed a small coffee from a nearby Tim Hortons (caffeine doesn’t really bother me too much before bed) and walked home. On my way back, I stopped at the top of a hill fairly close to home. There is an apple tree near the crest of the hill, and so, near the foot of the tree there were some rotting apples. One of the apples had rolled away from the rest and was resting against the curb near the road sloping at a generous angle of declination. I dribbled the apple to the top of the hill with my feet (as it was past midnight, I had no fear of being caught unawares by a car), and then tapped the apple so that it began rolling down the hill.
I watched as it started gathering speed on its way down, bouncing happily as it rolled. Suddenly, when it was bout twenty or thirty meters away (and travelling at a fair clip), a cat exploded out of the underbrush and chased after the apple. A moment later, a pile of cats -too many to count- emerged from nowhere and followed suit. So there they were: a herd of cats racing after this poor apple.
Eventually the apple came to rest at the bottom of the hill. One of the cats (the one that first started the ruckus, I believe) pawed at the apple, trying to get it to move while the rest of the group sat by and watched. After a few attempts, it let out a disinterested “mrowr” and the rest of the cats dispersed, blending into the shadows like so many ninjas.
Serious, nature: WTF?
His name was Duncan. If you have followed this blog for a while, you have heard his name before. He was married to my excellent euchre partner, Myrtle.
When I first met Duncan a number of years ago (while courting Mrs. J), his firm handshake and solid smile served to emphasize his “awfully pleased to meetcha”. Indeed, it’s hard not to feel welcome by such an honest greeting. In the dictionary under the word “genuine” there should be a picture of Duncan, who always had a nice word and a story ready for everyone that he met. Charming and kind, he would always set you at ease.
He was a perfect match for Myrtle. It certainly wasn’t because they were exactly alike – it was more because they complimented each other so perfectly. Where Myrtle was private and ignored the spotlight, Duncan was outgoing and outspoken. They were one of those couples who could say so much to each other without words – even though Grandpa always had plenty in his magazine to fire off into any conversation that required a salvo of his brand of awesome.
Last weekend was the celebration of the 25th Anniversary of the high school that I went to (well, the one that I went to for most of my high school career, as my family moved at the end of the summer before I was in grade ten). Reunions seem to evoke feelings of excitement in some, dread in others, and indifference in others still. Our reunion actually consisted of an entire weekend of events. The only events that I were interested in, really, were the talent show and a pub gathering, both taking place on the Friday night (the events overlapped, oddly enough). It was definitely a strange night; in some ways similar to the old days – in others, very different.
The Set Up
Sometimes, I think that our generation is the worst one; this is even in comparison with the spoiled kids that are running around today. I believe that our parents were the last generation (as a whole) that really worked hard. Don’t misunderstand me: there are folks from our crew that put in their time; but I think that a good number of us were spoiled by our own parents, resulting in a flippant attitude towards things like jobs and parenting.