y? because purple
The gym is becoming my second favorite place for people-watching. Nothing beats the airport. Any airport. Any city. It’s really too bad they stopped letting people go to the gate without a ticket or I’d be compelled to grab lunch and hang out there just to watch people come and go. Think about it. There are plenty of places to get food. Ample seating. And unlimited entertainment. But back to the gym.
cooking goats with gas, grins, and shinola
Growing up in one of the few places wedged between Buffalo, New York and Canada can be a bit of a sheltered existence at times. I’m not talking about weather, although we typically got a lot less snow than our friends in South Buffalo. Some in my family would say they deserve to have more snow because they’re Polish—Polocks is what they’d call them.
howe about that!
Okay. I know I’m late to the party on this, but I needed some time to let it sink in and really think about it. Mr. Hockey left us on June 10, 2016, but what you didn’t see—or at least I didn’t—is the typical conversation about him being one of the greatest players the game has ever seen. There’s a good reason for that. He isn’t one of the greatest. He is the greatest. He had no equal and there is no debate.
(canadian) music holds the secret
My love of Canadian music has been well-documented—by zombies. Well, not really. But I read a blogpost a few months ago with a tip for identifying passive voice. If you can add “by zombies” to the end of your sentence, it’s passive. So sorry for the passive opening. I love Canadian music. There. That’s more direct. Moving on…
oh canada
Even as an adult, Canada continued to play a special part in my life, most notably our many trips to The Beer Store. Yes, The Beer Store. An entire store filled with beer. It basically works like this: you walk in and tell a very nice person what you want. That very nice person punches some keys into a machine. You give that very nice person some of your money. And then your beer magically appears on a conveyor belt. What’s not to love about that?
a bills fan’s guide to the 2016 election
Okay so I guess BillsSealthis is a second political post, but in fairness the first one was more about political people—less commonly known as assholiosis. I know that sounds like an affliction, and it’s probably offensive to real afflictions, but it feels somehow more inclusive to me. So let’s run with it.
let my love open the door, as long as it isn’t for a woman
Here’s your first warning. Like most of my writing, my blogs are likely to be laced with references to my younger days. I’m 46 years old. Today, as a matter of fact. So you can decide which era “my younger days” refers to. I’ll try to remember to include links to references you kids might find obscure, but just play along and have fun with it, okay?
a boy named fred
People talked. There were stories. Some good. Some bad. But stories nonetheless. Who was this Fred? Did he even exist?