Category Archives: Narrative

Hurry, hard.

In light of the Olympics and for the benefit of some of my new Canadian friends, I’ve dug up this old post from back when I first moved to Canada in the late 90’s. Hopefully it’s relatively amusing….

I mentioned earlier that this installment would contain a discussion of curling. Well, it would except that I still haven’t figured it out. I can tell you a few things about it though, and they are as follows.

1. This sport makes little or no sense to the untrained observer.

2. In light of point #1, I will still try to make some sense.

3. The game is played by two teams on ice, who slide rocks and attempt to get them inside a designated area to score points. Imagine shuffleboard on ice. Sort of.

4. You must yell a lot to play this game. The four players on each team are always yelling at each other. Words such as ‘heavy’, ‘hard’, ‘hurry’, ‘good’, ‘whoa’, and ‘clean’ in addition to others are thrown about a lot. At first, I found myself aroused hearing these words shouted at me, as I was watching womens curling at the time. I thought I must have stumbled onto some combination wintersports/adult channel and was hoping that up next would be the lesbian naked pairs figure skating. Then I realized, quite to my dismay, that they were using these words with regards to the game. What each word means in relation to the game is still somewhat a mystery to me. I still enjoyed the yelling though, does that make me naughty?

5. A game consists of what I have determined to be 8 or 10 ‘ends’ or periods, which makes no sense either. If you play one ‘end’, how can you play 7 more? Isn’t the ‘end’ the END?

6. There is ALWAYS curling on tv in Canada.

7. Curling on TV is habit forming. It sucks you in. There is no action, no fast movement, no snappy music, but it’s like falling asleep to the air conditionerit sort of hypnotizes you. It sends messages to your brain that say “Come. Sit. Watch me for hours. Try to solve the riddle that is curling. Do or do not, there is no try. I am the walrus.”

8. I, and you, are not smart enough to play this game. The announcers discuss strategy and positioning in terms that would make MacArthur drool. I assumed they were just banging rocks around, but OH NO, every bump has a purpose, every play a whole hidden agenda. You cannot be privvy to this information unless you are a player, and to be a player, you have to be a master of motion, dynamics, physics and chemistry. At first glance it looks like a bunch of goofballs throwing rocks around on the ice and yelling like idiots, but don’t be fooled, it is the majesty and the mystery that is curling.

Now, if there is anyone out there that is a curler (is that even the right term?), don’t take offense to my little dissertation. I am only one of the lowly ones, the ‘unknowers’ that don’t partake in your sport. I play hockey. Which in your opinion may be just guys skating around beating each other with sticks, but to me it’s so much more. To me it’s guys beating each other with sticks, but also swearing a lot and drinking too much beer afterwards. That’s what takes it to the next level.

For all of you back in the States, my friends that are reading this and are unfamiliar with curling, let me just sum up by saying this:

You’ll know as soon as I do.
Until then, stay tuned as I will continue to report on the strange customs of your neighbour to the north. (Such as spelling neighboor with a ‘u’.)

And the stockings were hung out the window with care…

So I trashed my knee. Not that one*. The OTHER one. The one I didn’t trash 15 years ago. That’s news. It folded the other night when I was playing hockey. It did make a very interesting ‘pop’ as it did so. So that sucks. It seems to be not as bad as I initially thought, as 4 days later I’m putting weight on it and walking on it. Makes me kind of glad I didn’t take the ER Doc’s advice and just have it removed. Damn government budget cuts, they’re looking to save a buck anywhere they can.

So now I’m landlocked for what is probably going to be a considerable amount of time. Without even adult beverage to wallow in. Can one wallow in coffee? Sorta seems oxymoron-ish.

Snowpocalypse did turn out to be a dusting too. Pshaw.

Would you like some graphic design done? Yah? You would? Well that doesn’t surprise me because ironically, I have SO MUCH freaking freelance going down right now, you’ll have to take a number. Say, 48. 48 will get you in somewhere in the New Year. I’m not complaining – I’m venting. There’s a difference.

Really though, if you would like to discuss your project [bats eyelashes] I’d love to hear from you, just drop me a line, kay? Thumbs up! High five!

Some of you may not know, but Christmas is coming. You may notice a bit more traffic at the stores. A bit. Everyone’s very courteous though. Very.

I think I’m going to create like a ‘shopping hyperbaric chamber’ for all the online shoppers. They’re missing out on the sensory experience that is Christmas shopping in it’s truest, raw form. You could do your online shopping from inside the chamber which would be programmed to randomly introduce various smells, have an articulated arm that could poke/push/punch you at various times and there would be speakers filled with a combination of christmas music, inane conversation about the weather and screaming children. I’m taking orders now. The deluxe model will actually spill stuff on you too.

Happy psychotic consumer frenzy leading up to the Holidays.

“soon i discovered that this rock thing was true
jerry lee lewis was the devil
jesus was an architect previous to his career as a prophet
all of a sudden, i found myself in love with the world
so there was only one thing that i could do
was ding a ding dang my dang a long ling long”
-Ministry, Jesus Built my Hotrod

*Tore 2 and a half ligaments in my left knee many years back inline skating on a half pipe. Crazy days of jumping cars and shit. Who was that insane bastard? I don’t even ‘jump’ off the couch now. There. You’ve now been brought ‘up to speed’.

An open letter to anyone who’s ever bought me a drink.

Hey man, that was great, thanks for picking up that round. What a killer time we had.

Unfortunately, after you bailed because you had to be up early the next day, I stayed at the bar and drank with those couple of people we met there. Then, when they left, I drank until the bar closed. Alone. Then I got in the car and drove home – quite obviously something I shouldn’t have done – and when I got home, I checked to see what we had around the house to drink.

I’m embarrassed to admit how many times this little scenario has played out in my lifetime. How many times I’ve woken up in the morning not being able to remember how I got home or who I insulted/offended beforehand. I’ve well exceeded my limit of ‘second chances’ and ‘close calls’. It’s time to stop now. Really, the clock is ticking and at this rate, it’s not a question of ‘if’ my luck will run out, but ‘when’.

Some of you will remember, ’round this time last year, I quit drinking. Well, I did, for 6 months, then had a touch here and there. Started thinking I could do so in moderation, but over the past few months it’s become readily apparent to me that I can’t.

I don’t want it to get weird with us. I know in the past I’ve always felt weird and didn’t know how to act around people when they told me they didn’t drink or had quit. Probably partly in due to the fact that it reminded me that I had a problem myself.

“Oh. Uh. Sorry.” Hides beer behind back. Retreats. Communication tapers off, never to be heard from again.

Honestly, it’s been so long that it’s hard for me to even interact without alcohol. Fact of the matter is, it freaks me right the fuck out to think about going anywhere with a group of people without it. And go to a bar and not order a drink? Forget it. Not happening man.

Some of you I’ve been drinking with so long, it’s second nature. It’s intrinsic. It will be weird no matter what, but it’s gotta happen.

I have to re-learn how to interact with people without it and that’s gonna take me some time. Be patient with me while I straighten my shit out. It will mean less nights out for me – and/or shorter ones, or bouts of moody weirdness, but I’ll get it.

So that’s it boys and girls, it was fun while it lasted. I’m tired of the guilt and the loneliness and the shame. I’m tired of being ‘owned’ by it and living in fear of when the next shoe will drop.

I was talking with Lyn about it and she says to me “It’s a choice, you know. A choice you have to make.”

“It’s a disease, too.” I said.

“Yes. But even people with the disease still have to make the choice.”

So I’ll be making that choice. Now, tomorrow, all the time, for the rest of my time. I realize now the meaning of it. That you’re never really ‘cured’ – that’s where I made my mistake before. From here on out I’m a recovering alcoholic – that’s what it will mean to get up in one piece every day and feel good about myself.

So this Thanksgiving that’s what I’m thankful for – I made it out alive – with my conscience semi-intact – when so many haven’t. My family and friends are still in one piece and I get to move forward with their love and support. I’m lucky to have that.

So next time you see me you don’t be afraid to ask me how it’s going. I’ll probably tell you it’s rough sometimes – but that’s alright, what’s important is that it IS going. It’s a part of who I am now and it will always be.

You don’t have to hide your beer – just buy me a soda.

“It’s not you, it’s me. I think we should just be friends.”

Hi. I’m Kent. I’m a recovering alcoholic. I’ve been sober for 5 days.