Dear Readers

Hey folks... it's the King of Empty Promises here. Just heard an inside ad from a popular, local, right-wing, AM talk-radio station seeking a writer for, I think, writing ad copy. They want someone with a background in marketing and communication... of course... and of course they wouldn't want some pan-fried unpredictable, horsepuck-selling free agent like this strange benevolent cat working spin for their corporate / business sponsors' agendas, would they? While I may be a powerful creative force in the minds of many, I am also a bit of a passive aggressive wild man with a penchant for skipping the light fantastic; in a moderately hard-core way though, if you will.

You know, Dear Readers, that it has become painfully obvious to all of my friends, my family, and most importantly, me, that I am incapable of handling so much as a provincial work-kindergarten-welfare program, let alone a straight job day in and day out. I've demonstrated this lack of caring to not only myself but to a multitude of employers and teachers throughout the years by exhibiting behavioural patterns such as: struggling to be on time for things... skipping classes... staying up all night... being generally irresponsible... making inappropriate or inflammatory statements... jeopardizing production quotas... fostering rebellious ideas amongst disgruntled co-workers I’ve only just met... ignoring redundant make-work tasks assigned by superiors who's only motivation it seems is to flex their managerial muscle in the face of my outright defiance.

I just can’t bring myself to jive with the whole modern-day corporate movement that I see as a feeble attempt to redefine common sense or somehow regulate instinct. Everyone has just got to lighten up a little, stop all the infighting and gang-up on the bankers.

Can I change? Is it too late for me to seize the yoke of reality and really do something with my life? Heck, I feel that I’m just a measly spring chicken at the age of thirty-three. My life is beautiful. I cook fancy meals for myself from time to time, and if I’m not enjoying a cigarette with my black coffee, you’re quite likely to find me scouring public opinion on CBC, flirting with women on Plenty Of Fish, or working on a new video or song idea, but I need to get paid. Maybe I could be a top album cover designer. Here’s one I came up with last night – band name and all:

THE UNDERSTANDERS: That is the name I shall call my band. I like it. Has a sort of retro college radio band edge to it.

I’ve been getting out for many a long walks with the dogs throughout the days and evenings. Here in Edmonton, it’s imperative for us to capitalize on the sunny days of our somewhat brief sunny season. I’ve actually enjoyed the spectacular thunderstorms we’ve been treated to this summer.

Edmonton only had to shiver through nary a dozen ridiculously cold days last winter, it seems to me – and the winter before was rather mild compared with the last decade at least. I can recall weeks on end of temperatures hovering close to the minus forty centigrade mark just ten to fifteen years ago; factor in the wind chill on those bone chilling cold days and the out of doors becomes an arena that is downright hostile to the point that perilous pneumonic death awaits you should you find yourself not well appointed with some substantial thermal layers of clothing. From my own experience, animal hides serve as the best defence against the heatless wintery nights. Brrrrr!