5 December 2006

Deep In Every Canadian Soul

The Hammer is digging what is left of the snow. Her swimmy feet are finding mud beneath what is left but she still manages to kick some ice into my face when she passes close by me with her speed.

The kids around here got bored with the snow quick as the homeless will be forgotten once Christmas passes. They were game the first couple of days they could do some sledding then they returned to their video games and their homework. No one even built a fort and I did not see one decent snowball fight. Maybe they were afraid a homeless family would move in if they built a good fort. But no snowball fights? Used to be Canadian kids knew snow was an excuse to get violent with one another. Snow brought out the hockey in us. Now snow seems only good for bringing out the Anne Murray deep in every Canadian soul.
(9:00 PM Thursday CBC!)

I knew I had good friends in junior high when the principal came over the public address system like the Big Motherfucking Brother he was during the middle of a snow storm. "Attention students. Would the person who threw the snowball with the rock in it at the police cruiser during the lunch hour please report to the office immediately." The principal thought we were all fucking idiots. Outside the class window a police car with a customized side window sat in front of the principal's office. My junior high was so fucked up there was a convenient parking spot designated only for the police. As we watched a pissed off cop leave the school and return to his car with the snow piling up in the backseat Jimi passed me note written on Zig-Zag cardboard, "You owe us beer Bob Gibson."

Winter really is the best time of them all. Enjoy it while you can.

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