Mission for Smokes/Ron Wood hair

Gather round ye children, and a story I will tell, about Pretty Boy Floyd the outlaw, by one who knew him well..
No, this is a story about a quest for smokes, nigh on midnight, when shit is closing.
We live on 75 Ave, there's a Mohawk/Husky station down on 70 Ave thats supposed to be open till midnight. I set off at 11:20, beer in hand, figgered that was plenty of time, its a 10 minute walk. Bastids closed early, so up to 82nd Ave and the Esso I go. Closed also, fookers.

I go kitty-corner to the Liquor depot, figger if I have to walk up to 87 n 112, might as well have provisions, i.e. a shorty of rum. Till dude, highly gay and a friendly sort, recommends the Sailor Jim (or somethin) but I was mainly focused on his wicked Ronnie Wood small faces 'do'. I have been all over the Now Look album by Ronnie lately (Ian McLagan on the kbords y'ken), and saluted him on his look. Now, I am off to 87 n 112 for the pack of smokes. Took the backstreets so I could have a wee nip on the Sailor Jim.

First 'airborne via ice' of the winter at 84 n 110. Sheer ice, polished by lots of retards running 'all season' tires (all seasons in Cali-fucking-fornia) spinning away. I step forth, whoop, 3 feet up, land on my right hip. Fortunately I had the Sailor Jim in my left jacket pocket.  Wham! (not so much the thank you ma'am) but regained my footing and made er to the Mac's for the DuMauriers.
Thence hamewards, with a wee nip of the Sailor for pain relief (I'll be feelin it tomorrow).

I love this neighborhood, despite erratic closing times of Tabac vendors.
Keeps me in shape.

Hamish and the Light Beer

I guess I started to write this, then decided I was too lickered to type properly.

Not there yet, so here goes with the tale.
My workplace is about a 2 mile walk from a shopping centre called Southgate (south side of Edmonton). I have got in the habit of walking there after work finishes at 9 pm, especially now that the weather is a bit cooler. Keeps me in shape, helps me decompress after work.
I stop by the Superstore liquor store on the way, buy one beer for 1.50, cross over to the north side of the street so the traffic is at my back, and sip a beer for the latter 1 1/2 miles of the trip. Room temp., but not disgustingly warm. The singles are from broken cases. Sometimes I get lucky and there's a Heineken, but usually Coors Light, Molson or Bud.

At Southgate there's another liquor store and the bus and LRT station. Its staffed mostly by gay guys, one cute chick, and a redheaded Scots lookin dude I think of as Hamish. His name card says Alexander, but he looks like a Hamish.  He is commendably non-phobic with his co-workers, and quietly flirting with the cute chick. Anyway, he seems like a skater who got a job, not all tattooed or anything, thats more the gay guys, but he also looks like a handy guy with a battle axe at Bannockburn, if ye get me, lad.
This week they had a sale on Brewhouse Light, usually 20 bucks for a 15 pack, but now reduced to 10.99, plus tax. I bought a box on Wednesday, needed to restock Fri night for the long wknd. I brought it up to Hamish's till, he slapped his hand down on it and gave me a level look. "Dude. This is Light. " as if I had let down the team. I replied "Yeah but its just the Light thats on sale , isnt it?" Apparently regular strength was on for the same fine price so I went and got a 15 pack of regular Brewhouse.

Nice guy, I think he's a good shit, and if I ever needed a good battle axe man, I would put him on the short list.

posting, bad teeth, the whole shebang

hey cats n kittens,

Got a nasty old cracked n rotten tooth yanked today, the dentist did a good freeze job, I followed up with numerous amber rum n lemon sippers, against fucko advice. Seems all good til the freezing comes out, but I think its still a 8-9.

Poker not going well, dog is old but happy, me g-f wishes she could get something remotely congruent with her capabilities and experience.  NOT stupid ass corporate retail for 40 cents above minimum wage.
I try to focus on the positive, with some help from fermentation.

I now have a tooth missing on the lower right, and lower left, so I can drool ambidextrously.

Fuckin premolars, they never trained those guys right..

good night, and good wrestling..

stuck in the middle

writing to me ol mate Sam, currently teaching English in mainland China. We go back to 1989, and were roomies for 3 yrs. 'gimme the fuckin keys, muthafucka!' the Usual Suspects..

hey man,

Been watching republic of doyle on the cbc.ca website, i doubt you can get it there, but its a good hoot, esp. if you have known some Newfs.

Workin 41 hrs/wk., makin about 700 plus bonus so 600 after Harpo tax, na sa bad. Its work, it pays for me beer and the fenced yard for Walter. Barb is back at the job hunt, she is slimmer all the time, in fact lighter than she has been since her 20s. She is good, smart as hell, and both scots n slav, so we communicate.

Got 4 diff kinds of beans comin up, 2 kinds of basil, and two pots of Early bird tomaters. The back yard is in good shape, got fucko's vinyl couch out of there, left the good couch for Walt n me. Major dirt-pot garden in train. Tables for growin things by the garage.

I took a mental health day from work today, am on  beer # 19 and not even wobbly. Had one of my evil headches comin on, took action with beer (painkillers I just barf up) and oddly, 3 litres of beer works better.

My old bud Dave (known since age 5) is comin in for a short visit this weekend. He gave up the sauce cuz his liver crapped out. Our other friend Dave might have averted some pain that way, but he's a stubborn bastid.

Anyway, just wanted to shoot a flare, let you know me, ol Walt and my good woman Barb are all well.

all goodness, my friend.

Gordonski

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DohRa9lsx0Q&feature=endscreen&NR=1

the Life, Death and Fartload

My gal made up some pea soup with the hickory smoked hambone and ham bits (it is fine to dine on swine) after the Eostre weekend,  It was classic and very good pea soup. (Hemingway). It was ham and spuds, peas n carrots and onions. And 4 bay leaves. Then she added a cup of brown lentils in the slowcooker, cuz it was there. It was also good, but farty extra protein.
The gal's mum died last week. She was a Scot, born there. Close to where some of my grandparents came from, we may have fought some of the same battles or built some ships or chased some sheep together. We mourned her with a mickey of Glenfiddich , a singin of Loch Lomond, and the gal wrote letters to her mum we burned in the firepit.
My favorite cousin , not Scottish but his wife is, lost one of his best childhood buds. We are all gettin older, its not like being 20 and someone dies, we are over 50 and time marches on, but its still a load to bear. And it reminds us we arent going to be fucking and farting forever. Let's try to stay alive, not just for our own enjoyment of another sunrise, but to spare our mates the pain of it. My cuz is a very lifely man, still heli-skis Rogers Pass at 57, big-hearted, big-balls guy who took his missus for a Harley tour of Manitoba-BC-Yellowstone-Sturgis this year. Stay alive, there's lots to look forward to. Love you guys.

I am happy to be mentoring a cool chick at work, she is mostly Barbados-black, but her skin is goldeny and I think she might have some native and white, Indian from India in her mix. I crack her up, she laughs at all my little muttered grumbles. That makes my work day better. I have adopted her as my work-niece. Smart and clever, rides her bike to work, and trained in martial arts so she doesnt have much fear of silly men. She eats a lot of chickpeas, fish and rice. She likes farting (so she says) but I still go at least down the room or to the can to let mine loose. Dont want to disable her, cuz mine are old-guy farts. 
Life is pretty good, I try to focus on that, especially as people die. I appreciate having a 50+ gal (being almost 53) as we can reminisce about our times, and we have good cuddles. Young women are beautiful, and I like to be a grouchy (but kind) old bugger with them, not a dad, more a salty old journeyman to learn from.
I have more to learn.

the Easter weekend thing. not the island..

Late March to early April can be a bit emotionally charged for me. My dad's birthday March 15, his departure was on St Patty's day, 1998. My ma was born April 1, and she departed not long after that day, 8 yrs ago. I am used to bein an orphing, but I feel their presence in me around those weeks. 
Easter seems to coincide with the end of this period. In Chinese culture, they have Tombsweeper Day, to honor the ancestors, pretty close to this time as well.  Its death and rebirth time, spring is here in the northern hemisphere (nod to my Kiwi n Aussie mates).

This year, I had company for this time. My good woman has been living with me n the fine dog since June 1 last year. Its also death and rebirth time for her, her ol ma hasnt got many weeks or months left.  The rebirth is the spring; even at 54 N. lat. we have a brave tiger lily with about 5 inches of leaves pokin up, mere inches from a melting snowbank.
Good Friday dinner: I got a big ol ham on sale, nice hickory smoked shank, and cooked it up slow, put some slashes in the skin to make cracklin. Two pots of mixed veg, very colorful, especially the organic green beans with chopped bits of red pepper n oignon. Also broc n carrots, and little potaters boiled.
The gal got some Peek Freans English style biccies for dessert.
Had my old friend and sis-in-law over, she brought her coworker, who is an interesting hobbity little dude. They market reused building materials, nice old doors and woodwork, a worthy enterprise.  Dinner got a little cooled while we were swilling some Big Rock (TM) Grasshopper Wheat Ale (commercial plug), but we warmed it up and chowed down, then I went into protein coma in the armchair while they chatted, another holiday tradition of mine.
I had done the cooking and even vacuumed prior, so my good woman did a sterling effort on cleaning the kitchen after.  I had to work a half-day today (Saturday) to get my stat pay for Friday, so now I am chillin with some Jameson's and a tall bottle of Anarchist Amber Ale (cannery brewing co., Penticton, BC) and ready for a wee pissup and a sleep-in tomorrow.

Here's to the ancestors, to JC the rebel, to the reborn lilies and the dogs eatin the dinner scraps. Shalom!

Good Karma Day

Rare of me to post two things consecutive days, but its been a good day today.

Went up to 'Whyte n  Nine' (82 ave. and 109 St.) for a groceries n beer run about 11 a.m.  Got some good deals on stir -fry cut beef, some peppers, sprouts and real Chinese noodles to have with.  Was greeted by a nice lady (she would laugh at that) I used to work with at StatsCan, Lorette, while I was ringing up my purchases on the talking computer tills. Normally I hate them, but I decided to pull a fast one today, and rang out my green and red peppers both as green peppers.  Ssh, dont tell anyone. Anyway, hadnt seen Lorette since I quit the warm embrace of the Gov in '08. She is super cool, Metis grew up in Alberta, but her native half is Red River Cree (see prev. post) and she makes her main money working with elderly (some with Alzheimer's) folks, taking them shopping, helping them function in the world, finding them housecleaners for cheap, good karma stuff. She was with one of her clients today, a 105-yr-old lady who wanted to buy some grapes at Safeway, and insisted on choosing them herself.
Anyway, Lorette still works at StatsCan, for fill-in money, to help keep her ma alive in a home, and clued me on the new location of their office, which is right by an LRT station downtown, and they are hiring.
My gal Barb is working for stupidly low money in retail right now (Carlton Cards n gifts: fucking incompetent  'make the poor pay' employer, tell em to raise their fucking wages if you shop there) and I noticed Stats is hiring online, so if she does get on there, she already has a work-buddy in Lorette.
Then across to the Liquor Depot, saw a cool beer there, Bad Hare is the brand, they have a Chocolate Stout, which I didnt buy today but will in future. The sad thing about the beer run was the teller. A very pretty , but too thin girl who was obviously twitching for her meth hit.
Hope she gets her shit together someday. Liquor Depot is open earlier than BrownGuys, which  closer to 112 St.  and my usual vendor.
Feels like a good day overall, and I think the stars are pointing to my gal (with an anthro-sociology degree and super communication skills) getting a better job with the Gov, actually doing sociological research.
Fuckin 'A'. Axel.




    

hometown pluses and minuses

My gal is also from Winterpeg, close to the same places I ran wild as a youngun. This makes for meaningful convo about the old hoods, lots of which have suffered so much urban /drug/gang decay over the past 30 years they really arent there anymore.
North End Winnipeg used to be really cool in an ethnic way.  I lived in the heart of it when I had a loud jam band, nobody complained about the noise.  Magnus and Prince baby. Native folks, Metis, Slavs who had been there for 80 yrs, but also new immigrant folks just gettin their feet under them, our landlord was Chilean.  In many ways, it was Springsteen-ian, but more so. 
The Polish Legion, Russian Jews making great pickles and smoked meat, guys in wifebeater shirts workin on cars, drinkin (smokin weed) in the back yards. Loud bands, a hundred different ethnics hanging out, interacting. I used to go 'down Selkirk Avenoo' Saturday morning, you hear more Ukrainian , Polish, Yiddish  and Cree than English. Could buy a teapot, some horse-tack, a crock of pickles and some shoelaces in the same store.
Minuses? I forget. Oh yeah, its all gone now. Thats the big minus.  The crack and meth trade have fucked it all up.  The old babas with the backyard gardens, the old marketplace is all gone.
You can find lots of grey skinned, empty soul mofos to sell you shit and guns, but  you wouldnt want to live there.

Glad to have known it when it was there.

Canadians in the cold, smokers, musings

She's a lot like winter out there, boys. Minus 29 C., windchill MINUS FORTY. I dont have to discern whether that is Farenheit or Celsius,  -40 is where they meet, at a point labelled 'Fuckin Cold'.
I have a great Arctic rated parka, so am fully prepared. I just got back from a trip up to the Ave. for groceries n beer, 6 blocks each way. Noticed several of my countrywimmins along the way, dressed for the weather, showing pink cheeks (on their faces) and bright eyes from the cold, and a few even smiled at me in a neighborly 'caught you lookin' kind of way.  Gotta hand it to Canadians in a cold snap like this, they just put on more layers and carry on.  And gals who can still look good in parka and mukluks.
My quit smoking date is the 15th of the month, passed 3 months tabac free this last weekend. I was behind a guy at the checkout who bought a 20 pack, reg. length for 12.75 and I scoffed inwardly. He couldnt have been more than 32, but he had a greyish tinge to his skin and extra wrinkles from his habit. No shit, smoking makes your skin look decades older. I 'm not vain about my looks, but I dont want to look 62 at 52, prefer to look like a grey-haired, not grey-skinned,  45.  My only vices are beer and low stakes poker, together costing less than it would to smoke a pack a day at current prices.
Back to work from winter layoff tomorrow. These days of poker and beer on weekdays (I did have a part-time job to supplement the pogey, EI) are numbered, sigh. So I plan to enjoy kickin some Russkis' asses on the poker tables today, and tip back a few afternoon beers, while sniffing the evolving tasty aroma of my gal making a giant pot of soup downstairs. I dont have any beef with Russians, its just that pokerstars groups Canadians, Russkis, Kiwis, Ozzies, Brazilians, etc. together on tables, and there seem to be lots of Ivans playing this time of day.  Da svedanya, boychiks!

Have a good one, folks, stay warm.