Oh Bloggy. You soft, warm pet. How I mistreat you. How I abandon
you.
And yet - no matter how long I leave you, you welcome my rhythmic
hands and magical word births with open arms and a blank page.
I don't deserve you.
The other night, I spent some time with my new friend Cliff. Cliff
is a 65 year old, crotchety man who writes his own published poetry
and who actually taught at the University of Guelph while I was a
student there. How bizarre is that? I never had him as a professor.
On this particular night (Monday, to be precise), Cliff and I took in
junior hockey game in Cobourg. Yes - Junior Hockey exists everywhere -
even Cobourg. For most of the game, Cliff and I watched in silence from
a special section of the rink where you can actually see the whole
arena. The Cobourg Cougars were playing the Trenton Golden Hawks.
Cobourg won 4 to 1. The game definitely got chippy at times and
though none of the players on either of these teams have much in
the way of NHL dreams anymore, they still fought. They still
skated hard. They played their guts out in a tiny arena (that is
actually so small that it's almost impossible for either team to get
a breakaway).
During a break, Cliff and I walked up to the decent sized snackbar
where I bought a brown bag full of popcorn for $1.50. Cliff, donning
his intellectual/bad-ass brown leather jacket and with somewhat of
a pony tail (although the pony tail elastic was so low that it was
almost falling out of his hair), noticed a VIP section that had a sort
of bar and some decent looking food. A large sign said 'VIP's only'.
Cliff spotted a ticket lady at a banquet hall table and knocked on
the table, getting her attention. 'How do you become a VIP?' Cliff
asked innocently enough, snapping the ticket lady out of her
slathery slumber. 'Um...' she began, nervously '...I'm...not...sure?'
Her statement was almost a question. Cliff began walking away
after shrugging his shoulders and I followed, smiling at the lady.
She reached out towards him 'I...can find out for you? I'm sorry-
it's my first night here.' she said, huffily and sweaty. 'No, no.'
Cliff chipped back. 'I wanted YOU to know the answer. And you
didn't. That's okay.' He chuckled a bit, raspily, smiling at her.
She seemed puzzled as we descended the marble stairs and went
back to our seats.
These days, I find myself unsure of things ahead but resting well.
I think I'm overtired from late summer nights, a recent trip to
Ottawa and the Shelter Valley Folk Fest (an experience I'll most
likely never forget). I've spent two full days in the past week and
a half recording new music - laying foundations for albums that
are in the works. I guess I'm pursuing what I need to pursue.
The fall weather is doing a number on my psyche this year. I
found that for a while, the fall excited me as I knew that a new
year was starting (in most of my friends lives) and that I didn't
have to take any courses and could do whatever I wanted. Doing
that and living that style of life has its limits - I may be reaching
it.
I'm trying to make a go of it here - deep in Northumberland
County. Had a great phone convo with my best friend Brian from
PEI last night for the first time in a while.
My workspace (inside the tiny little office of our apartment) is
far more functional than it was last year (thanks to Sarah's mass-
cleaning efforts) so I plan to make good use of it.
Writing.
Creating.
Recording.
Dreaming.
Actuating.
More to come.
