Tag: Me and Mine

Good Friday

Woke at the crack of noon. Amazing to get that opportunity with little kids around.

When I woke, CBC was playing Bach’s “Passion of St. Matthew” and making great efforts to explain why this day, in multi-faith times, is a day off – it is, apparently, an example of faith to all the faithful. I don’t know if I buy this. Christmas has been commercialized beyond recognition and Easter is not far behind but Good Friday, the central day of the Christian faith, cannot be drawn in by marketers, the toy makers. You will, of course, note that I was not at morning service nor do I mark the hours of the passion throughout this day matching Christ’s steps to mine. But some do. Just as others mark their holy days untouched by the mall and a dinner. Should this be a day off or is it just a reminder of the past dominance of Christianity in Canadian society? We need to have another day off, for some other faith’s great moment – preferrable on the Friday before Easter.

Easter Monday I have no problem with. At university, lobbying to be excused due to religious observance was joined in by some claiming Easter Monday as a holy day but when asked what occured on the day, there was no answer. It is just Boxing Day in springtime.

Time Deprived

Like David, I am messed up this week with the clocks going forward last weekend. Losing one hour should not be so dramatic. I didn’t even lose sleep due to my dedication to nap therapy but coming come from work yesterday felt like leaving elementary school at 3:15 pm. Except no one was up for playing before supper. Something to do with the wearing of ties, I guess.

Men’s Clothing

stylish

Across from this view on Brock is this one – a men’s shop in an asymmetrical high contrast 1885 brick building. I don’t buy clothes at men’s shops. They exude things I can’t pull off – style, tailoring, funny swirly design sweaters for $165.00. I also have 37 inch arms that none of these shops can fully cover – “it’ll look great if you roll up the sleeves”. I am a LL Bean seconds-shop kind of guy. Too bad. You imagine that in some of these olders shops there are spittoons in the change rooms, boxing magazine subscriptions, supplies of subdued colognes named like “Bermuda Gentleman”.

Arran and the Beach

chittery bite best be in hand

My folks are from the Clyde in the west of Scotland and we figure this painting at Owen Sound is a view from a beach across the Clyde to Arran.

I don’t know the artist’s name but suspect it is a scene from the 30s when my parents would have the ages of these kids. I recall being dragged when I was seven in 1970 to the beach along this stretch in August and freezing in the cold Atlantic.

same, big

real life...my life
The view at Largs, Scotland – November 1987.

real life...my life

Seized Back just like Belfour

It is the season for injured bloggers but with the playoffs coming up that is to be expected. Think I will spend the day laying on the floor taking numbing drugs. It’ll pretty be like my 1980s, I guess.

Speaking of playoffs, there is a move afoot to continue the grand tradition of my internet hockey pool via this digital venue – really only as a link to the site of a friend who administers on a real live interactive data base what I started in 1996 or ’97 with a pad of paper and email. We will speak on that later p’raps.

We Are The People

Slide tackler, 1904

The National Portrait Gallery in London, UK, has a display, which opened ysterday, as well as an on-line presence for the “We Are The People” collection of 1000 postcards from the first half of the 1900s. We have a number of these kind of postcards produced for individuals by photograpy studios including one of my great-uncle John going off as an infantry man to be sent a bit off the norm by the trenches of WWI. They must have been a cheap way to reproduce photos to pass around to family members as none of the postcards we have were ever sent. A few more pics at the BBC. Nice jersey, not quite well left.

Java based fear

sofa slouch java

I think I ran out of coffee and forgot to pick any up. Too late now. What’ll I do in 8 hours, bleary, facing nothing but tea? Will I go to work early to get an extra mug in? If you like your boss but you go in early only because you ran out of coffee at home and not to get a start on that report…do you tell him? Can you make a pot of tea with nine bags?