Monday, 25 February 2013

The Good News

The Leafs look great in Philly tonight. Kessel just scored, but even before that. The bad news is that they've embraced goonery to become a top team. Guys whose job it is to drop their gloves and beat on the other team's goon(s). Way to goon, Leafs!
I'm not immune to deriving pleasure from the team's recent form.
As I was saying, the bad news is that I'll be leaving soon to catch tonight's Vertigo reading at Crave.
I didn't mean it like that.
But maybe I can sneak into the bar for the last ten minutes of the third.

Friday, 8 February 2013

For Alice Velma Hill, 1915-2013

I salute our mom in those daytime hours
in the city after dry years and war years
and small town years. Here was
a new house, the first
she and dad ever owned, beige
split-level, nothing around but mud.

I salute our mom in those daytime hours
in her picture window, bedrooms (four)
bathrooms (two), L-shaped
living room, rumpus room and new
washer/dryer. It must have been quiet
with dad at work, us kids at school.

I salute our mom in those daytime hours.
We rushed home at noon for lunch
and dad lay down for a snooze
and we all rushed off leaving mom
the housework and shopping,
the Thursday afternoons at the rink.

I salute our mom in those daytime hours.
After school we’d practice
our piano or horn to play
“I Left My Heart in San Francisco”.
Mom from the kitchen would say
“I like that one”.

I salute our mom in those daytime hours
we always came home to.

Sunday, 3 February 2013

An Old Movie

"Twice each day for the rest of your life you will examine your conscience", says the boss nun-in-training. Cut to a series of shots of apprentice nuns, including Audrey Hepburn, examing their conscience, voice-over listing the imperfections. "I left a light on last night."
My conscience tells me we like old movies because they let us make-believe the made-believe. We can tell ourselves stories about stories.
Now they're snipping Hepburn's hair and pulling on her first cowl. She prays. Fred Zinniman shoots this and other scenes straight up. Every woman's face showing utter lack of will. The men up at the front, the priest and his associates, look bored.
"Sister, you make a beautiful nun," say the patients, when she returns to duty on her ward. They applaud. Hepburn blushes. Later she tells another new nun, "We shouldn't blush, I'm sure we shouldn't".
"Go write it in your notebook, says the other.