Checkered Lounge Pants

Hey boomers, how freaky is the water thing in Vancouver, eh? The stories coming out of BC about the water crisis is hauntingly familiar to Bangladesh and the drought. Lets all think about the story that Matt Damon tells about watching the village school girl that walks 5 miles every day after school to get a clay pot full of potable drinking water. Now flash back to Vancouver and the gas prices arent such a big thing when you think you might have to drink water th at you boiled for an hour and you still cant get the brown silt to allow the water to become crystal clear before you satisfy a thirst that has long since left the realm of QUENCH and gone right into DEHYDRATE, in some parts of the city. Never mind showering in it. KEEP PUMPIN THOSE FOSSIL CABONATES INTO THE ATMOSPHERE. Whadda we need, a shot upside the head, or what? I quote, "Amid the controversy that surrounded Environment Minister Rona Ambrose at last week's UN Climate Conference, little notice was given to a num

Aye’s da bay dat wrenches the bike, an’ aye’s da bay dat rides ‘er. I spent the weekend wrenchin and ridin……..which is not a big deal, UNLESS yer a biker aficionado type that relocated from Winnipeg and yer ridin in NOVEMBER. Well now, I remember when a fella would call me from Vancouver on New Years Day to say they were on the golf coarse, to which I responded what possessed them to golf on New Years Day, and was inundated with “BECAUSE WE CAN”. I can tell from the edge on the North wind, though, winter is not far. We had a nice fire the other night after spending the day at Joe’s splitting logs and my beloved Val filled the trunk of the Grey one (term of endearment for the car) after her and Joe bartered for her operating the hydraulics on the log splitter (the pic is Joe teaching Cyress the fine art of operating a wheel-barrow when the kids were visiting in October) . Who knows, might be a few more riding days before I have to start my Xmas shoping. WhooooooW

Sitting waiting for a plane, again......its the first posting from the road. Been away for almost 2 weeks and unexpectedly, I found travel schedule had me going home today instead of later in the week. Its been a long trip this round (by days end I will have rode 4 trains and 4 planes this trip). I been hard-pressed to keep my mind from wondering from the tasks-at-hand. I found myself daydreaming about travel songs and the next thing I know I whipped off this poem. Dont read anything into it, it was just a mind google filling in some wasted moments while I waited in the Montreal airport for my flight to Fredericton. It goes something like this: Poet Tree I called home the other day Just to gab and hear her say How the home fires flickered while Im away And tell about the church I visited and stopped to pray Wasn’t much else going on I had been on the road all too long The thoughts of home and family was getting strong Living in hotels and restaurants got to feelin