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It is exhilarating to be out in the country somewhere, a panorama of nature before you, and not another human being to be seen. Seriously, stand on top of that mountain, or that hill in Ireland, and slowly turn around. You don't see anyone, do you? You're alone. You know you're not, of course. Chances are you could cross paths with another person in the next hour if you just put your mind to it, but there is still majesty in being outside, staring out at this so-called overpopulated world, and wondering just where that surplus of people happens to be. - I read once that the entire population of the world could fit comfortably in the state of Texas. I don't know if that's true, though. There are an estimated 8.1 billion people on earth and Texas is 268,596 square miles. That would mean every square mile of Texas would have about 30,157 people in it - enough to fill an NHL arena one and a half times over. If the small town I lived in was in Texas, our population would

This is my sister's pet peeve, folks - deliberately misspelled signs. She's of the opinion that there should not be drive-thrus only drive-throughs. On this, I vote with her, though I am not such a stickler for this as she is. But hey... I notice lots of deliberately misspelled signs everywhere. For example, I saw a poster for an upcoming movie called "Over-commercialized cash grab for a mediocre product that has long been irrelevant." Only they spelled it GARFIELD. - Look, I'm a professional wordsmith. I make (or made) a living crafting prose and/or shaping the prose of other people. I'm a proud grammar snob. I know the difference between can and will. If you ask me if I can get you a glass of water, I will say "yes" and I will not get you a glass of water. That's because you didn't ask me to get you one. And don't get me started on the improper use of it's. - More grievous to my baby sis must be Toys R Us, owned by the American lice

One of my favourite parables that Jesus told is the one about the Pharisee and the tax collector. Both of them went to temple to pray.  Pharisee: God, thank you for making me so wonderful and righteous. I don't steal, I don't cheat on my wife, and I'm not an evildoer. And I always give away one tenth of what I make. Thanks for not making me like that tax collector over there. Tax collector: God, have mercy on me, a sinner. Jesus said that the tax collector was justified before God. "For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled and those who humble themselves will be exalted." - Is it true that what goes around, comes around? The New Testament seems to think so. In Galatians, Paul promises his readers that you will reap what you sow. This begs the question, what are you sowing? - But if you're talking about karma, then I'm going to bow out of the conversation. Particularly if someone has wronged you and you're saying "karma is going to get th

I was 24 years old the first time I called 911. I'd come home from a day's work, only to find that thieves had broken into my apartment and stolen my computer, printer, and answering machine. I went to my next door neighbour's house and called 911. A report was filed and about a week later, my stuff was found in a pawn shop about a block away from the apartment. So hooray for the police. - Later, the police told me that they suspected a person in my building was involved in the robbery, which was likely carried out by a youth street gang.  They should have been publicly flogged.  - Of course, I am aware that today* is the 22nd anniversary of the attacks on the twin towers in New York City. Like anyone old enough to remember, I can recall exactly where I was when I heard the news. I was a general assignment reporter at the Stettler Independent. I was my usual jovial self when I walked into the office that morning and, when no one else was being jocular, asked why the mood in

Well, I used to think that my job was to report facts. That's right.  Facts. As in: things that are true. Things that can be empirically verified. Facts. For 20 years, I reported facts in my local newspaper. If I ever reported something that was not factual it was either (a) a mistake or (b) an April Fool's Day joke. Our proofreader once scolded me for playing April Fool's Day jokes on our readers. She believed that the newspaper should never report anything non-factual, even if it was an April Fool's Day joke. - My newspaper closed this week. The owners could no longer afford to keep it open. I was interviewed about it on a national newscast. This surprised me. I didn't know that the demise of our weekly 130-year-old newspaper would be of interest to people in Victoria, but it was. I had a chance to talk shop with the guy who interviewed me. He said that sometimes, there is only one side to a story. He was talking about conspiracy theorists. - I'm not sure what

September 1 should be New Year's Day. Wouldn't that be awesome? We would celebrate New Year's Eve not by freezing our butts off but by having clambakes on the beach. On New Year's Day, we would bid farewell not just to another year but to another summer. We would wake on the morning of September 1 ready to start anew. More things start in September anyway. School starts in September. The National Football League starts in September. The National Hockey League begins playing exhibition games in September. Even more awesome: we would start the new year with a long weekend. - Sorry Christopher Hitchens, religion doesn't poison everything. The Greek Orthodox Church knew what it was doing when it decided September 1 should be New Year's Day. If you want to ring in a new year when it's cold enough to freeze your Auld Lang Syne off, be my guest. But I'll party with the Greeks if I have a say in it. - In Vancouver, there is an outfit called Anvil Press that, eve

 Note: The Surgeon General warns you that this note is being written about a week late. Here is the reason: Shteevie lost his full-time job at the newspaper where he worked and he needed time to sulk. Now he is done sulking. This note has emerged from his sulkiness.) -   Toward the end of high school, Ozi thought it would be funny to make a movie called The Two Guys Who Couldn't Find Each Other . I had just received a video camera as a high school graduation present and was still dealing with the messy breakup I was going through with my girlfriend. Ozi thought that a few hours of silliness would get my mind off of things. He was right. The movie was filmed at Calgary's Heritage Park, home of the infamous Big H. The premise can be inferred through the title - two guys who can't find each other. Ozi filmed me trying to find him; I filmed him trying to find me. We were 18, so the movie was peppered with the most unbelievable profanity. We went through an entire pack of cigare

 I received a piece of devastating life-changing news the other day that has made me massively self-aware. They say that comparison is the thief of joy and so I am not feeling particularly joyful these days. I made some decisions when I started out in life - decisions that brought me into middle age with not a whole lot of net worth. Now, it's imperative that I act pragmatically. Sorry, but I'm not in the mood to write much more. There is work that has to be done.

    Men like dogs because men like to feel needed. Dogs excel at this. - Much has been written about men and their relationships with dogs, who have been known as Man's Best Friend for as long as I can remember.  I have never owned a dog, though I have lived in dog houses for most of my early life. If memory serves, I've shared roofs with nine dogs. When I moved out on my own, I did not get a dog. I couldn't. I was an apartment dweller. But so many times I stopped people walking dogs on the street. This was especially true of the dogs were St. Bernards, which are my favourite dogs. "I don't own a dog. I just borrow other people's for a few minutes." That was my standard witticism. Sometimes,  I pet the dog so vigorously that the owner jokes that I should adopt it. -

  Family legend has it that my Great Grandmother Montreil, who died in 1973 at the age of 99, got married when she was 13. She became a mother shortly after that and eventually produced 13 children - my maternal grandmother, Lillian, being the youngest. There exists somewhere a grainy photograph of me “meeting” my great grandma. The quotation marks are there because I don’t know if babies can meet people; meeting someone seems to require an intellectual heft that babies are not capable of, and I was a baby in 1973. In the picture, Great Grandmother Montreil doesn’t look too excited to be occupying the same space as me. I’m not sure what state of mind she was in. I wonder if she was thinking what the very old most likely think when they are presented with another infant descendant , maybea variation of “well, I guess I’ve been here long enough. Maybe it’s time for me to shuffle off this mortal coil and see what my genes can do.” - For some reason, I was thinking about Great Gran

  That old saw hangs on the wall of Grandma’s Country Kitchen, a small town diner in one of the larger hamlets or small towns that dot the county. Grandma is a former farmer’s wife who opened the eatery after her husband died of a heart attack some years ago. She gets some help from her son, who works at a big accounting firm in the city, and from a couple of teenaged girls who wait on tables when they’re not too busy playing soccer or going on dates. But most of the work is done by Grandma herself, who takes pride in the fact that everything in her restaurant is homemade. That bread that was in your sandwich? It wasn’t store bought. Grandma baked it herself. The eggs? She buys them from a local organic egg farmer – that’s why the yolks are so big and so orange and so flavourful. The ham in Grandma’s Famous Homemade Ham Sandwich isn’t from the Save on Foods deli either. Grandma bakes her own ham, marinating it in her own mixture of sauces and spices first. There’s no expansive menu

    I love gnocchi. It’s supposed to be a pasta that’s made from potatoes but, darn it all, it don’t taste like taters to me. It tastes like pasta. It’s like spaghetti but you don’t have to twirl it around your fork. You stab it and eat it. Yummy! Problem is I’m the only person in the family who likes gnocchi, which means I don’t get to eat it very much. I made some for Ash once and she didn’t like it. B-Man didn’t like it either. I don’t blame either of ‘em. Gnocchi looks like giant maggots. - A while ago, I got into the bad habit of eating nothing but a pack of Sidekicks for lunch. It’s cheap, filling, and quick to make. My favourite varieties of Sidekicks are the Harvest Chicken Rice, Honey Garlic Noodles, Teriyaki Noodles, and Chicken Fried Rice and Mexican Rice. I boil it in a mixture that is 75% water and 25% hot sauce. - Stupid buggabugga took a lot of things from me – one of them being my favourite sushi restaurant, Wasabi, which was located in the Byward Market i