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Land rover…

May 10, 2011

Hey,

we’re not dead…

—Red Wings forward Todd Bertuzzi on Detroit’s 2011 playoff story of procession into Game Six

This week,

Little Gem has been experiencing,

a rash,

of bad dreams…

Sometimes,

when she comes to me,

in the night,

she refuses to talk,

about what she’s seen,

and just crawls,

into my queen-sized bed,

wanting to sleep,

back to back,

with the soles of our feet,

pressed together…

But last night,

she answered,

my inquiries,

into the scary…

She said,

some things like,

Your sewing machine,

down in the basement,

turned into a machine,

which kills cats…

After one year of life,

they’re put into the machine…

There isn’t a needle that does it…

It’s something else,

which is too terrible,

to talk about…

But if they’re not ready,

to go,

they can come out…

It’s all up to the cat…

And our girl cat,

didn’t want to die…

The other afternoon,

I ran into a neighbour,

who’d moved,

out of town,

a few years ago…

When I expressed,

some stories,

about my playing doctor,

with The Vancouver Canucks,

and NHL hockey,

she applied,

her theoretical lens,

on me,

and said,

You must be reclaiming,

some aspects,

which you’ve suppressed,

in yourself…

I looked,

at sidewalk Freud,

holding my breath,

as she carried on,

Or maybe,

you’re going,

to get together,

with someone,

from the Canucks…

I looked some more,

until I felt blue,

in the face,

and then,

she broke down,

her perception,

admitting,

Or maybe,

I’m just projecting,

as I exhaled,

into her truth…

When I went to buy,

a dozen eggs,

a pound of butter,

and a bottle of milk,

so that I could bake,

some cranberry,

butter tart,

squares,

for post-game celebrations,

the shop-keeper’s son,

who is a beer league,

regular,

on Planet Ice,

asked me,

Are you ready,

for tonight’s game???

I ensured,

Yes…

I’m all over it…

And with the sweetness,

such boys are made of,

he added,

I would never,

have expected,

someone like you,

to be so excited,

about hockey…

I left wondering,

What exactly,

do you think,

you know,

about someone,

like me???

Five years ago,

I was asked,

by my principal,

to speak,

at a meeting,

about the process,

of self-evaluation,

and shared goal setting,

which had been established,

in our school community,

since its inception….

There was a big wig,

from the Ministry’s department,

of accountability,

there with her notebook…

She was clever enough,

to see outside the lines,

and said,

This is exactly,

the kind of real assessment,

for personalized learning,

we’re looking to find,

in public education…

There was a father,

sitting there,

at that round table…

And after he heard me,

read a story,

about Life on Earth,

written by a five year old girl,

he pulled strings,

to ensure his daughter,

was in my room,

the next year…

Walking down the hall,

not noticing,

my bare feet,

he said,

things like,

My daughter,

is so shy,

and quiet…

I want her,

to have a voice…

And I can see by watching,

the students in your class,

that you have a way,

of bringing them,

out of themselves…

Four months into her year,

of grade one,

he came to me,

at the classroom door,

and said,

things like,

My wife,

and I,

are really struggling,

with our daughter’s behaviour…

She doesn’t do,

what we want anymore,

And what’s worse is,

she talks back…

She has opinions,

and gets mad…

Can you do something,

to get her,

to control,

that temper???

Can you bring back,

our good girl???!!!

I smiled,

graciously,

and said,

without saying anything,

Sorry cowboy,

but I believe,

I warned you,

about guaranteeing results,

with no money down,

and the no return policy,

on my practice,

of restarting,

broken ponies…

In honour,

of my favorite goalie,

#35,

Mr. Cory Schneider,

and some other,

key players,

I’m flirting,

with ginger today…

It’s not that,

I don’t love Luongo…

I do,

unequivocally…

His provings,

have,

and will continue,

to be fantastic…

It’s just that,

someone like me,

lives for,

those who catch left,

AND know-how,

to rise,

to the occasion,

of shared process,

when its all,

been said,

and done

I’ve been telling,

my girls,

that one day,

Trotzsky,

is likely,

to run into me,

on the most,

phenomenal course,

of  yoga,

known to man…

And when,

that moment arrives,

my tootsies,

will be unleashed,

with a flash,

of justice,

and the touch,

of a thigh…

As the empty disappears...

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