Canadian tire…
On the outskirts of a tiny little town was a neglected garden…
In the garden stood an old house,
and in that house lived Pippi Longstocking…
She was nine years old,
and she lived there all alone…
She had no mother or father,
which was actually quite nice,
because it meant that no one could tell her that she had to go to bed,
just when she was having the most fun…
And no one could make her take cod liver oil when she would rather eat candy…
— in Pippi Longstocking by Astrid Lindgren
Today,
I rubbed up,
a horse,
who’d made it,
big time,
on the track,
and I was told,
among other things,
that he knew it…
But when I looked,
into his eyes,
I got,
a completely different,
story,
and I felt it,
in my aching jaw…
I’m not inclined,
toward headaches,
but yesterday,
starting late afternoon,
I had one,
coming on,
strong…
And although,
I somehow,
managed,
the tension,
I knew,
I was distracted,
from the task,
at hand,
which at the time,
was being schnitzeled,
by Edmonton…
One of the things,
I wonder,
about the repeating pattern,
of a slow start,
every October,
is if players,
on the V-Canucks,
and their families,
have the freedom,
to opt out,
of the flu shot…
Just because,
the team doctor,
is providing,
the innoculation,
does not make,
Roger’s Arena,
a safe injection site…
A woman,
recently told me,
how she’s been,
vigilant,
about protecting herself,
with this so-called,
health care,
while her twin daughters,
refuse to present,
their biceps,
for the needle…
And in the next breath,
when she mentioned,
issues,
with her lymphatic system,
I had a thought,
I kept to myself,
about how her children,
might know something,
that we’ll never have,
the data,
to prove,
if we continue,
to allow,
big business,
to stick it,
to the man…
When racehorses,
no longer,
earn enough,
to pay their trainers,
they’re more often,
than not,
destined,
for auction,
and the possibility,
of the meat truck…
Unless of course,
someone,
with a sweetness detector,
sees their potential,
and buys them,
outright,
for re-purposing…
I’ve often heard it said,
about a horse,
I’m the one who feeds him,
so he’s damn well,
going to do,
what I want,
when I want…
If you’ve sold,
your body
to the NHL,
for six figures,
and what’s more,
failing to refuse,
what you know,
isn’t working,
for you,
puts a real screw,
to being held,
in the cross ties…
I can hear my train coming...
Life jacket…
A couple of weeks late,
just like my game…
— Roberto Lu-longo, poking fun at reporters, on the delay of his new helmet…
One of the habits,
I’m working my way,
out of,
is feeling the need,
to explain myself,
and my M.O.,
because I’m changing,
with every breath…
For example,
when I get,
the overwhelming urge,
to turn,
the volume up,
on Keith Urban,
and zoom out,
to Chilliwack,
like I’ve never done,
before,
I don’t know why,
I just get in the car,
and do it…
And as I was standing,
beside the Vedder,
Saturday morning,
watching fly fishers,
in their casting pants,
an elderly gentleman,
supplied me,
with the ley,
of the land,
and some,
raison d’etre…
At the end,
of his details,
he wondered,
Are you local???
Truthfully,
I never really know,
how to answer,
that question,
because,
sometimes I’m local,
and some times,
I’m not,
and I don’t know,
where the line is,
in-between…
When I told him,
I’m from,
the big smoke,
he looked,
confused,
but eventually,
caught my drift,
and said,
Come out to the valley,
anytime you like…
We’re always happy,
to have you,
like he was speaking for,
my people…
One of the things,
I love most,
about my mechanic,
is how he likes to,
pull my leg…
When I last,
went in,
to pick up my car,
he said,
That’ll be $600…
I didn’t even flinch,
as I handed over,
the money,
because I’d given him,
a list,
of things I’d wanted,
done right…
He laughed,
and showed me,
the bill,
for $89,
saying,
I keep you safe,
and I save you money…
You have enough,
on the rear brakes,
to get you to California,
and back…
And those brake lines,
are built,
like diamonds…
When he saw,
my doubt,
he added,
If something happens,
that’s not safe,
call me,
I’ll come get you…
Now go,
I have work to do…
I had absolutely,
no plans,
to go to California,
but I put,
his fortune cookie,
in my Tupperware,
for that moment,
when SPIRIT,
up,
and moves me…
Cast,
swing,
step…
Go by the shoreline, look at the moon...
Working heel…
Physics sees matter as energy,
a momentary illusion in a universe which knows no permanence;
it sees a world which has no bounds,
no divisions,
and fewer and fewer rules and laws…
In this world,
physics and the I Ching have much in common,
for both seek to understand the phenomenology of change…
Once realizing the fundamental illusion of matter,
one either perceives the universe with reverence or,
like the physicist who shot himself when he discovered his chair didn’t exist,
one goes mad…
— in the MAGIC of Findhorn, and eyewitness account by Paul Hawken
After last season’s,
stinging play-off finale,
and Timmy Thomas,
taking the Fiskar’s,
to his playoff beard,
I had a dream,
I was riding,
behind,
Kevin Bieksa,
on a motorcycle,
down a spiral,
staircase,
directly into,
the Vancouver Canucks,
locker room…
Now I don’t know,
if Kevin Bieksa,
has a motorcycle,
or not,
but it doesn’t really matter…
What matters is,
that regardless,
of what other people thought,
it was fun,
and we,
were happy…
On Wednesday morning,
as I was tossing,
a frisbee,
in the park,
I experienced a brief visit,
from Roberto Luongo…
Some people,
might ask,
after hearing,
such things,
Did that really happen???
and in response,
I would say,
it must have happened,
somewhere…
Yesterday afternoon,
I was out at the dog park,
in Campbell Valley,
when a distinguished gentleman,
in dress slacks,
and a vest,
with an I-Phone,
in a holster,
on his hip,
insisted on demonstrating,
the might,
of his seventy plus,
throwing arm,
by taking the Chuck-it wand,
right out of my hand…
I can throw this way farther than you’ll ever be able to,
he promised…
I didn’t tell him,
that there ARE,
other ways,
of throwing,
you weight around,
because I was enjoying,
the show…
After I’d seen his stuff,
I asked him if he’d been,
a pro-baseball pitcher,
you know,
in the good ole days…
Nope, he said,
This muscle,
has been building up,
ever since,
I got my dog…
A week or so ago,
I was on my way,
into a car wash,
when the man in charge said,
Now hands off,
the steering wheel,
release the brake,
put it in neutral,
and I’ll guide you through…
In my meetings,
with Luongo,
WHERE EVER,
they may be,
I always work in,
some Fleetwood Mac,
from man’s best friend,
and the knowledge,
that it’s completely,
within his power,
to make noisy things,
that call themselves fans,
dis-appear…
And I always end,
our appointments,
with the suggestion that,
even though,
it may seem,
counter-intuitive,
and even a bit,
ridiculous,
it’s likely he’s had,
a passed life,
as a Volvo,
and he should find,
a way,
to believe it…
A nice reliant automobile...
Canuck'd 