Alas, hail the mighty hose! The genius who invented it (Jan Van der Heiden, Dutch, 1652) was without doubt a practical man, and thinker on shortcuts to hard work. My guess is he never fully realised the later implications beyond fire fighting, which begs the question: Why didn’t they open a dyke and channel...
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There were usually the four brothers, the minimum number to pick two teams and have a game. The Imaginary brothers stayed away for fear of not being accepted. Games then were born of poverty and imagination, not from media hype to promote capitalism, such as the necessity of three hundred dollar hockey sticks. My...
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I looked forward to greeting the lilies each day. “My my, aren’t you looking dainty today? You’re absolutely dazzling! Those tiny pollen filled stamens are so intricate. Your cousin is so white, her skin so soft, with the right number of dimples.” They and other beauties of their ilk make wonderful imaginary friends. Unlike...
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So my cousin phones me up all panicky. She has to come to the city for a specialist appointment and there’s been another murder in town. Being the encouraging type, I’m obliged to smother her fears with common sense. “Wasn’t that horrible?” she says. “Yup. This place is now the murder capital of Canada....
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“Out!” yelled Blindy, as I slid home. I never understood how my imaginary ump could be so darned incompetent. Just once you’d think he’d get it right. But Misser, as usual, came roaring out from behind the shed, where he’d gone for a leak, away from real Mom’s sight. “He’s as safe as peanut...
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Some of my former imaginary friends and enemies could speak. They had squeaky voices from dry air, insensitivity toward my feelings, and clouds of confusion in their auras, mostly because they didn’t know who they were. Lazy summer afternoons were spent lofting baseballs toward Old Blindy the ump and Misser the catcher. Mom thought...
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Back in pioneer days before backhoe time, neighbours had to dig death holes by hand. It didn’t matter what the temperature was or what day of the week the person had passed, that six foot trench had to be dug. No shortcuts either, as the religious opinion of the day forbade it. “How would...
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I’ve always considered the phrase ‘foul play’ a paradox. ‘Play’ suggests frivolity. When the headline screams, “Inspector Wise Suspects Foul Play!” in the sudden disappearance of Izzy Gone, I don’t believe the reader is conjuring up lazy days at the beach observing kids splashing water joyously while sneaking peaks at buxom volleyballers diving in...
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Truckers and couriers know. Postal workers know. Luggage handlers know. My wiser, handsomer, braver, younger brother knows. Alas, what do they all know? People ship weird things to do with odd addictions. This is a true story because my brother, never a liar, told me. This guy in a quaint village 100 miles more...
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Cussing was only habitual for this individual for about a year – something about adolescence and limits. As soon as a curvy girl in a red dress told me she found it disturbing and low, I discontinued. It was hard enough getting girls to notice at all, without such additional impediments. This cessation of...
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