Nov 2017 01

Seems like I really got into character last night for my ‘Man who eats entire package of cured meats’ costume. 

Oct 2017 16

Today’s announcement of Gravitational Waves reaching Earth proves the discovery of another science exam I would have failed miserably.

Oct 2017 16

Do not get a light-fur-coloured dog when your soul is dark and you wear a lot of black. 


Aug 2017 19

Where do moms go to get away from it all? The barbershop, of course.

I love the barbershop. It’s an escape from the regular world. You leave looking, and feeling better, more prepared to go back to your life.

This afternoon I stopped in to see my barber. And while waiting my turn to get into the leather and chrome chair, I found myself in conversation with a woman sitting at the bar. Ya, bar. This is not a normal barbershop. But before I get into that, to the 2 readers of the 7 that read this page who don’t know me, you should know that I don’t even have hair – I went ‘North Korea pre-emptive strike’ on my head about 10 years ago and shave it daily – so what am I doing in a barbershop? Well, in the last year I’ve grown a long, living under the Gardiner Expressway type-beard and one of the perks of it besides the illusion I have a chin is that I get to enjoy the sanctity of the barbershop.

Evidently, I am not the only one who feels this way.

‘Good afternoon’, she started.

It wasn’t a pickup line. We were just two assholes sitting in a barbershop. At the bar. Drinking Jamesons. On a Saturday afternoon. Regular stuff.

‘Hi. How’s your afternoon?’

‘Great. I’m taking a quick time-out from my kids.’

I love when people overshare right away. Fuck talking about the weather.

‘In the barbershop?’

‘Yup. I love this place. A friend is watching my kids for a bit.’

Even if she told me the specifics of why she needed a time-out, I wouldn’t divulge them here. She didn’t divulge much, but it was obvious she needed this break. She looked like she had given so much of herself, except to herself. This is the look of parenting that I don’t see as someone without kids, who also doesn’t get invited to those ‘kid’ things to see and talk the common language of parents. Which seems to be ‘fatigue’.

And I wondered, ‘Where was my mom’s barbershop?’. I don’t know. It will remain a secret, just one of the many she kept and died with. I’m gonna bet she didn’t have one and this was one of the problems that consumed her.

Where is your barbershop?

I eventually got into the chair and as my barber draped the cape around me, she asked me how things were going. I see her every couple of weeks so I could get into things about work, or life, or parents – w’ve been slowly building a history of knowledge about each other for the last year. But I realized my usual complaints of just living a life where I’m not responsible for the well-being and development of another human being would be ridiculous now.

‘Things are great’ was all I said.

I love the barbershop. It’s an escape from the regular world. You leave looking, and feeling better, more prepared to go back to your life.



Aug 2017 18

So, this just happened.


[phone conversation]

Andrew:  Okay, bye dad.

Andrew’s dad: Yup, bye.

Andrew: You know dad, I haven’t seen you lately. I kind of miss you.

Andrew’s dad: Oh. Bye.

[end of phone conversation]



When you’re 88 years old, I really don’t see the advantage of playing hard to get.









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