Unknown caller…
So de Kooning just gets up one morning, walks to his easel, and just starts to paint…
It’s what his hands want to do…
There’s nothing more and nothing less to it than the reason he started in the first place…
The compulsion to watch these colours and shapes and lines and strokes take shape in front of him…
So he paints and paints…
The people who see it can’t believe it…
It’s not just that the paintings are as good as when he was young…
The truth is that they’re something else, something new…
And the worse his disease gets, the less controlled, more spontaneous and fanciful the stuff becomes…
De Kooning makes the best work of his life…
Each day he gets up and sees his paintings from the day before, and of course, he doesn’t remember a one of them…
Doesn’t even really know that he is a painter…
He just looks at his canvases and sees what for him, was the most beautiful art in the world…
— In The Story of Forgetting by Stefan Merrill Block
One of the things that I enjoy most about the Canucks website is the stories of the players when they were little boys,
and being in the NHL was the seed of a dream…
I like hearing about how their fathers built ice rinks for them…
How their mothers would call them to come in for supper,
but they just stayed out in the cold,
and kept playing,
no matter what…
How all they thought about was nothing but playing the game,
and emulating heros…
When I ride my bike around the city,
I don’t often come across boys in back alleys,
playing road hockey…
But when I do,
I stop and watch,
forgetting all about what I’m supposed to be doing,
and where I’m supposed to be going…
And I take my time to enjoy the beauty,
and poetry,
playing itself out on asphalt,
with a ball,
a bunch of sticks,
a net,
and some happy little boys…
And because I’m wearing the t-shirt,
they know that I am the same,
only in a different container…
You and I, we're not tied to the ground...
Nut cracker…
Mr. Gumpy owned a boat and his house was by a river…
One day Mr. Gumpy went out in his boat…
“May we come with you???” said the children…
“Yes,” said Mr. Gumpy,
“If you don’t squabble…”
— In Mr. Gumpy’s Outing by John Burningham
This afternoon I was driving a quad of girls,
out to Golden Ears Provincial Park,
for some lightning thief adventure,
on the beach,
where Gold Creek,
empties into Alouette Lake,
when I heard a comment,
from my back seat drivers,
right out of the mouth of a babe,
Mama, you don’t have to worry…
Sami Salo does not have a ruptured testicle…
I repeat…
Sami Salo does not have a ruptured testicle…
His testicle is just fine…
My radio was set to Coldplay,
so I asked where exactly,
she got that information…
In the rear view,
I could see a set,
of headphones,
stretching from one head,
to another,
We’re listening to the Beat…
And Mama, we’re wondering,
where exactly would one find Sami Salo’s testicle???
As soon as I started to go into,
location details,
I heard a request,
Could we change the subject please???
I obliged,
and turned on the Team 1040,
for more information…
And I heard a sports broadcaster,
asking someone from TSN,
what Canucks fans,
should think,
about the Canucks,
as we move forward,
into the post-season…
I almost went off,
the Dewdney Trunk Road…
Why in God’s name,
does a fan need,
to ask someone else,
what to think,
about their own GD team???!!!!!
Canucks fans were voted,
the smartest fans,
in the NHL,
by NHL players…
If that’s true,
then we’re in trouble here…
I don’t ask anyone,
what I should think,
and I’ve lost interest,
in basing my thoughts,
on other people’s opinions…
I’ll warn you,
that you should be,
very wary,
of mine,
because they aren’t yours,
and I could very well,
be messing,
with your head…
In fact,
I’ll guarantee it…
As I was writing this,
Little Gem was cleaning,
her room…
She checked in,
with my topic,
and after reading the post title,
she went over,
to her book shelf,
and said,
out loud,
to herself,
Now where is that book???
It’s So Amazing!
After finding,
what she was looking for,
she flipped directly,
to the page,
on Male Parts,
and pointed out,
something,
that I didn’t know,
Mama, read this…
“The testicles are about the size of grapes or marbles when a boy is young…
During puberty, a boy’s two testicles grow to be the size of walnuts or very small balls…”
Then Little Gem stood,
and looked,
at the drawings,
with her head tilted,
to one side,
and shared,
her own opinion,
Actually testicles look like plums and that is what they should have been called…
Testicles is a bit gross,
it makes people think of liver…
Plums sound a lot more appealing…
Now let’s stop talking about this okay…
It’s my turn on the computer…
Close shave…
On our journey home I fed them on the softest insides of grasshoppers,
and finely minced frog’s meat…
A diet on which they obviously throve…
— in King Solomon’s Ring by Konrad Z. Lorenz
The game of darts that I just watched played out between the Blackhawks and the Canucks was excellent…
The details are irrelevant because the team is coming back home for game six,
and that is all that matters…
As I’ve heard Alain Vigneault say many times in the past,
because it appears that some people are hard of hearing,
We’re taking it one game at a time…
I’m pleased to see that so far this evening he is saying nothing…
There is no better way to leak energy than to talk…
Talking,
and listening to others talk on,
and on,
will drain you like a sieve…
We think vampires are fictional,
but if you look at any media guy,
you can see that they are real,
and they get excited about drawing blood…
With all due respect,
Iain MacIntyre of the Vancouver Sun is a perfect example…
I like Kristin Reid as the inside reporter for the Canucks…
She’s pleasant and it seems that she has rapport with the team,
but for the sake of Pete,
why is she asking Iain MacIntrye what he wants to see from the Canucks,
and giving him the light of day to say it…
Canucks catering would do well to lay out a spread of that pizza fathers offer their teenage daughters before a date,
all loaded up with garlic in the crust…
And Alain Vigneault should keep a hammer and six inch nails in his toolbelt,
for the purposes of coffin management…
Luongo made a couple of smart game five decisions…
Losing the beard with the first one…
If you don’t know my position on the second, keep reading…
I was really happy to see that Mats Sundin and his lovely wife were watching the Canucks tonight…
And that he took the time to grace Scott Oakes with his presence,
and us with his smile…
Mats had the best haircut in the Madhouse…
I’m not driving things in any particular direction here,
but if the Canucks really want to rattle for the rest of this series,
and open themselves up to striking possibilities in the shark tank,
they may want to consult Mats about his hairdresser…
Or I can ride my bike over to the Garage anytime between 9 am. and 3 o’clock Monday through Friday,
and take care of shiny as Christmas…
In preparation for the call I’m going to oil up the shears that have been in storage since the lockout…
They’re a professional set…
And whenever my Old English Sheepdog saw them,
he would play some air guitar,
flop over on his side,
and let me get the job done without any need for Scoobysnacks…
Mama, what does the woman in the car have to do with that song???
Or your story???
She’s cruising truth…
Canuck'd 