Sitting here in the quiet cozy confines of the departure lounge in the Kamloops airport, and it feels like a significant departure point in other ways as well. I’m about to head off for a two week jaunt along the US west coast, much of it riding shotgun for the Bava’s game repair scavenger hunt. […]Read more "Departures"
“Yes. I am an educational administrator. It’s what I do: I plan. And I write reports. And in the rare moments when I am doing neither of these–which is to say somewhere in the very middle of it all, between planning and reporting, if circumstances happen to permit–I will spend a tiny sliver of my […]Read more "Please allow me to (re-)introduce myself…"
A sudden chorus of whoops and yibbles burst from a kind of juke box at the far end of the room. Everybody quit talking. The bartender tiptoed back, with the drinks. “What’s happening?” Oedipa whispered. “That’s by Stockhausen,” the hip graybeard informed her, “the early crowd tends to dig your Radio Cologne sound. Later on […]Read more "First gig"
Maybe it’s the short solstice-adjacent days that darken my mood. Or maybe the holiday weather in Manitoba that’s colder than the north or south poles, or parts of Mars. Or staggering around my mother’s house, missing a father with whom I enjoyed my final fun memories this time last year. Whatever… some welcome space for […]Read more "Tracings"
Shortly after Charles Manson died, a couple droll Tweets by Kaleb Horton crossed my feed: They hit me as funny enough to check out Horton’s The Last Exit Show podcast, and I was not disappointed that the most recent episode opened with a monologue that carried on the Mike Love bashing with a certain élan. […]Read more "Rambles"