This Hour has 22 Minutes was in fine form this evening. Premier Danny Williams asks the Codfather for his leave, as Mark Critch laments his job security. My hometown's favourite son, Gorden Pinsent makes an appearance, as does Jake Doyle (Allan Hawco of The Republic of Doyle. Good bit of fun.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Friday, November 26, 2010
Our Fearless Leader Retires
Well, it is over.
Danny has resigned.
And the timing is off.
Why now, with the ink on the $6.2-billion deal for a hydro-electric project in Churchill Falls barely dry? Williams modestly called the deal a "piece of mastery" and the "stuff of nation building." And yet feels no need to stay on and see it through- to ensure it does in fact happen.
Something is rotten in the state of Dannystan.
It reminds me of when I was a kid, and my dad would let a silent but deadly one rip and then would leave the room before anyone noticed it was him who caused the stink.
Danny has resigned.
And the timing is off.
Why now, with the ink on the $6.2-billion deal for a hydro-electric project in Churchill Falls barely dry? Williams modestly called the deal a "piece of mastery" and the "stuff of nation building." And yet feels no need to stay on and see it through- to ensure it does in fact happen.
Something is rotten in the state of Dannystan.
It reminds me of when I was a kid, and my dad would let a silent but deadly one rip and then would leave the room before anyone noticed it was him who caused the stink.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Little Ears
I have never considered myself a very aggressive driver. Sure, sometimes I get riled up, but it is usually because someone has done something extraordinarily dangerous and stupid. You won’t see me lay on the horn because the guy ahead of me is daydreaming away the advanced green. I have never lost my mind over the fact the car in from of me has had its right turn signal on for the last 5 kilometers.
However, I do admit to talking to the drivers who annoy me, they can’t hear me, and it feels better to get it off my chest. I don’t swear and yell (usually), I don’t gesture. Instead I have a quiet one sided conversation with myself.
“See that little stick on the left hand side of your wheel? Yes, that is an indicator light- use it”
“Stop signs aren’t suggestions”
“You can put on mascara and drive at the same time? Talented”
“You are closer to my ass right now than my proctologist”
It is a simple little protest- and it keeps me from completely losing my cool.
But I have an audience on occasion, and I never really considered how much he pays attention to every little thing.
Until yesterday.
I left work earlier than is my norm to pick him up from daycare early so we could get to the speech pathologist on time. However, construction on the way to daycare delayed me. By the time I made it to the daycare, we only had about 15 minutes to make it to his session. Breathless, I rushed in to get the little guy, and as I was scooping Wilson off his feet to carry him to the car, I apologized for carrying him, but we had to hurry or we might be late.
And we were off.
Halfway there we are waiting behind a large truck at a stop light. When the light turned green the truck does not move because we are waiting to turn left. However, Wilson, strapped in his car seat in the back wants to get a move on, and as far as he knows “Green means Go” so he yells:
“Come on buddy! MOVE!”
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
The Gunner's Dream
The Gunner's Dream, Pink Floyd.
Floating down through the clouds
Memories come rushing up to meet me now.
But in the space between the heavens
and the corner of some foreign field
I had a dream.
I had a dream.
Good-bye max,
Good-bye Ma.
After the service
when you're walking slowly to the car
And the silver in her hair shines
in the cold November air
You hear the tolling bell
And touch the silk in your lapel
And as the tear drops rise
to meet the comfort of the band
You take her frail hand
And hold on to the dream.
A place to stay
Enough to eat
Somewhere old heroes
shuffle safely down the street
Where you can speak out loud
About your doubts and fears
And what's more no-one ever disappears
You never hear their standard issue
kicking in your door.
You can relax on both sides of the tracks
And maniacs don't blow holes in bandsmen
by remote control
And everyone has recourse to the law
And no-one kills the children anymore.
And no one kills the children anymore.
Night after night
Going round and round my brain
His dream is driving me insane.
In the corner of some foreign field
The gunner sleeps tonight.
What's done is done.
We cannot just write off his final scene.
Take heed of the dream.
Take heed.
Thank you to all the men and women who have served for us.
Floating down through the clouds
Memories come rushing up to meet me now.
But in the space between the heavens
and the corner of some foreign field
I had a dream.
I had a dream.
Good-bye max,
Good-bye Ma.
After the service
when you're walking slowly to the car
And the silver in her hair shines
in the cold November air
You hear the tolling bell
And touch the silk in your lapel
And as the tear drops rise
to meet the comfort of the band
You take her frail hand
And hold on to the dream.
A place to stay
Enough to eat
Somewhere old heroes
shuffle safely down the street
Where you can speak out loud
About your doubts and fears
And what's more no-one ever disappears
You never hear their standard issue
kicking in your door.
You can relax on both sides of the tracks
And maniacs don't blow holes in bandsmen
by remote control
And everyone has recourse to the law
And no-one kills the children anymore.
And no one kills the children anymore.
Night after night
Going round and round my brain
His dream is driving me insane.
In the corner of some foreign field
The gunner sleeps tonight.
What's done is done.
We cannot just write off his final scene.
Take heed of the dream.
Take heed.
Thank you to all the men and women who have served for us.
We remember.
We honor those in service today.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)