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Trailer hitch…

May 15, 2011

I can quickly forget my anger when I’m in bed with my wife…

But I don’t often get there…

Dr. David Suzuki, chuckling in response to THE question:

What do you do when you’re angry???

as posed by George Stroumboulopoulos…

I was raised Catholic,

so to speak…

What that really means,

is I was put through,

the paces,

of baptism,




and bedtime Our Father’s,

for the sake of appearances,

and that elusive doorway,

to Heaven…

A few months after my confirmation,

I wanted to be born again,

and a few months after that,

I became the atheist,

I was until,

I turned forty-one,

remembered Great Spirit,

and found,

the non-denominational church,

of The Vancouver Canucks…

Last night,

I put together,

an offering,

of granola,

for the chalice,

of the Stanley Cup…

And a few hours before that,

I broke bread,

with some spot prawns,

because ’tis the season,

and the last supper,

before round three,

of shark fin soup…

I’ve been heard to say,

that instead of that decade,

of rushing home,

to lay,

a gourmet meal,

out on the table,

I should have been,

on my knees,

at the altar,

of shinny…

But we all know,

one shouldn’t waste time,

crying on,

the shoulder of regret…

There was no such thing,

as lingerie hockey,

back in the 90’s…

It wasn’t even,

a twinkle,

in my eye,

until I reached,

this middle age…

But now that,

the figment,

has been,

rolling around,

my imagination,


it’s only a matter,

of lacing up,

my hockey socks,

before the thought,

races on to the ice…

One of the things,

I have grown to love,

about Alain Vigneault,

is that he can keep,

important information,

to himself…

This isn’t something,

immediately obvious,

but over time,

as I watch,

his pressers,

he says the bare minimum,

to satisfy,

the feeding hounds,

and is capable,

of holding his ace,

close to the hip,

until it’s absolutely,

called for…


A.V. often jogs,

the Seawall,

on game day…

As Coach’s consultant,

I wash the china,

polish the silver,

and vacuum the house,

before I settle down,

for 5 pm. mass,

at the Rog…

And yes,

you can blame,

my approach,

on that red dress,

and everything else,

someone like me,

swears on,

underneath it…

Turn it up a little louder...

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