Friday, November 03, 2006

It seems this is the only picture I've got of Kevin and Anita's place. So blot out the people pictured in the foreground and imagine how nice it is to visit them coming from downtown Toronto. I love visiting Bob and Lorraine and they have such a nice corner lot, it's amazing. And Jim and Brenda have the best location in Cranbrook I think. When I'm in Cranbrook that is where I want to be. And of course Ger and Karri have the most extraordinary backyard and location possible in town. I love it and I feel so comfortable there. But that is civilization. .
When I come out there for a week I don't want civilization. I'm in the midst of it every day of my life and Kev's place is there where there is no civilization. In fact I'm not sure there are life forms. I can remember that place and it looked like a hillbilly heaven. Anita has done the most amazing job. And Kev of course with the help of Roy on the house and the boys I'm sure. How many persons like perfection? Not me. I'm sixty-one, hopefully that gives me a little bit of credibility. I feel at home in many places, I'm not that hard to please, but when I walk into Anita's home I feel at home. I notice that too with Bob and Lorraine and Jim and Brenda and Ger and Karri (no one is ever going to accuse me of favouritsm). If someone was going to put a shotgun to my head and ask where would I like to spend the last evening of my life before my brains were splattered across the wall, I might say Kevin and Anita's, although I'd certainly consider other relatives too:
I might not consider Ger though. Can you imagine? "hi Ger" "whom are youm?" "your uncle, remember the only person in the history of mankind who can actually put up with you and who thinks you are cute and kind of funny, I'm living with you for the rest of your life" "what day is this?" "the first day"
And then there Jim of whom I'd have to set some perameters before I moved in: "don't talk about the Navy, or anything actually" "what about my hunting experiences?" "above all not that that" "quad trips?" "nope" "fishing expeditions?" "boring" "climbing the highest mountain with a grizzly after me?" "yawn" "using my expertise in cooking a great meal" "now your talking"
We all know Kev is perfect of course. I presume so: "Kev?" "what?" "far be it for me to criticize you since you've lived here for thirty years or so, but may I ask why you are naked and carrying a shotgun around the house?" "I'm looking for noisy rodunts" "Kev, it's cold out and rodunts don't like the cold and now that you mention it maybe they do, I'll keep a chart and track them from day to day, and if I can find a trend then.....why are you pointing that shotgun at me?"

This is either a mirage or Justin is walking across the Gobi Desert dressed like a guerrilla carrying an Uzi. I couldn't tell you where he might be headed but if he's on his way to pick up a dead duck, it doesn't seem quite worth it to me.
Not having duck-hunted myself, and knowing Roy, Jim, Ger, and Kev I've always assumed that it involved, more or less, shooting towards the flock of ducks, watching one of them fall from the sky, having a dog retrieve said dead duck and then resuming the party. I know Ger perhaps takes duck hunting a touch more serious than others might but to send his only begotten son off to retrieve a dead duck that fell a mile and a half away, across a bleak Martian landscape seems rather heartless to me.
"Dad, I have to what?" "go get that dead duck" "why me?" "do you see a Golden Retreiver around?" "no" "guess what?" "I haven't had lunch yet Dad and besides when I get back I won't look like a poster boy from Field and Stream" "Son, sometimes one has to sacrifice for the good of...........whatever" "What are you going to do while I'm trudging across that vast plain on an empty stomach?" "catch a few rays" "catch a few rays?" "and keep an eye out for oncoming flocks of ducks of course"