Re-Emergence

I used to embrace a life impacted by a ridiculous moustache, and I once received a keychain with a big black stache that purred, "Well, hello there." when a button was pushed. If I could somehow play that for you to hear, you'd understand the theme of this piece.

I'm back ... Or, maybe it's better to say I've re-emerged
I've missed this process of creation ...

The last post that I shared (CLICK) was about a great family friend's Celebration of Life, and somehow, someway, I lost my drive to create in the mired, murky waters of Life that played out in the spring of 2025. I wasn't unhappy ... or too busy ... or disinterested ... but rather chose to occupy my 86 K seconds in a different way, and writing took a backseat.

Well, I'd like it to ride shotgun for a while!

Looking back on 2025, a LOT of stuff happened that significantly impacted the path my Life was on, and while most were ultimately positive, they caused me pause, and redirected the direction of my prow.

My Mom chose to alter her own path by successfully selling her Florida condo after 30+ years

My mom and dad purchased a condo in Naples Florida in 1990, at a time when the foreign exchange rates were in Canada's favour, and it quickly became their Nirvana, their home away from home, their American paradise. They were able to enjoy all that it became for a number of years prior to my dad's early passing, and despite it being a daily reminder that he had left her on her own, mom continued to enjoy all that Pelican Bay offered to her. For a host of reasons, Joyce and I weren't (didn't?) take advantage of free Florida accommodations until I retired, but we still got to experience what my parents had embraced for a few years, making our own memories and some new friends. With the inevitable passage of time, mom arrive at the place in Life where maintaining two homes became a chore, and a decision was made to investigate selling. Considering where everyone in our family was in Life, it made perfect sense for Joyce and I to be the ones to play a major role in helping her both not only get the condo ready for sale, but to offer support throughout the turmoil of the process, a role we embraced despite the door that was closing.

My family spent some moments this past holiday reminiscing about the condo as the anniversary of the sale passed in mid December. With all that has played out thus far in the 47th presidency, the decision has been reaffirmed many times over, and while I am firm that I will not spend my well earned dollars in the US as long as things remain the way they are, we still harbour some regret about what was and what we have lost. 

I'm personally stoked that a large pressure was taken off my mom's shoulders, and while the culmination of the whole affair looms like a spectre thanks largely to the glacial, grinding nature of the IRS, I know that she can still get emotional when thinking about all those fond memories.

It's definitely the epitome of bittersweet.

My daughter and hubby had their first child, my first grandchild, Elowynn

Joyce and I love our kids to death, that much is not a shock to anyone that knows us, and we couldn't be prouder, happier, or more content with the adults they have become. They both found their soulmates, they're both in the housing game, they both have discovered a path they embrace, and they both seem very happy.

When our Maddi married her boo Chris, she was not shy about letting us know that the plan was to have a honeymoon baby. Well, with Life in the rearview mirror being 20-20, the powers that be thought, "Let's see how they deal with some bumps in the road." and the process became long, frustrating, and emotional, requiring soul-searching, patience, and some medical assistance. When the proverbial "cat was out of the bag", and the ever swelling baby bump prompted a host of emotions for our family, we too experienced some emotional upswings as they inevitable climax of the process loomed. A whirlwind of a labour resulted in our wee Elowynn announcing her presence with a resounding series of yelps, manifested in a level of love that we previously unaware was possible. In my purely biased opinion, she's practically perfect, in every way!

We're six months into the infant roller coaster, some loops anticipated, some unforeseen, but exhilarating none the less as her cherubic smiles melt our hearts multiple times a day. 

More on Wynnie in later posts.

My nephew married the love of his life, a former athlete of mine

My third brother Rob and his wife Jen have two strapping young boys, Marcus and Jackson, and while they both have settled on their mate for Life, 2025 was Jackson's turn to make it official when he married his literal high school sweetheart, Drew. While I was the prototypically proud uncle, the nuptials were enhanced by the fact that Drew was a former athlete of mine, a youngster whom I had developed a solid relationship with prior to them falling for each other, so the kiss that sealed the deal this past fall was an even bigger thrill that it could have been. 

To see how deeply the two are in love with each other is the coup d-grace. 

I discovered that condo life, while good, can't correctly be coined great

Joyce and I entered into Condo Life at Wasaga Beach with our eyes wide open, and while we are quite happy with that decision, we have discovered there are some, albeit minor, things about condos that we were in error about, and they have taken some of the shine off. Some of these were errors made in not fully understanding, but others were errors in assumptions, and we all know what happens when we assume! 

We had every intention to escape the Canadian winter doldrums with regularity, and were successful for 4 years, so a condo made perfect sense with it's turn-key lifestyle, but the situation south of the 45th parallel has thrown a proverbial monkey wrench in the gears. Yes, we could fly somewhere warm, with viable options like Mexico or Central America doable, and we could certainly opt for a Mediterranean destination like Spain or Portugal, but the added expense of flying means a shorter reprieve than driving offers. 

Don't get me wrong, we love our Condo Life once we cross the threshold! Living on one floor, a more than comfortable space, and some of the chores taken on via monthly fees makes for a nice relaxing retirement, but as the old real estate adage extols, it's all about location, location, location. Condos in our price range in Wasaga Beach do not come with a plethora of amenities yet still demand a sizeable monthly cost, so if we're choosing to endure Snow Squall City like we are this winter, the value doesn't match the outlay. 

Looking back on our time in Barrie, in our little home of 31 years, the faces around us changed, but the feelings remained fairly constant, and we really didn't understand that choosing a life that demanded sharing the costs of operation and upkeep would expose us to the frustrations of the mindful minority when it comes to following rules and regulations. My parents taught me that, "You're either part of the solution, or part of the problem." so I dealt with my frustration level by getting elected (acclaimed) as President of our Condo Board, figuring that I would actively participate in the necessary modifications with hopes of lowering my angst. That has proved moderately successful, and while pleased to have prompted some satisfying changes, there remain a host of issues that are proving annoying, mostly centered around the wide variety of opinions of what is right and wrong, compounded by the fact that condo regulations are simply words on a page and mostly unenforceable unless one chooses to spend $$ on legal action.

All of that is what it is, as the old saying goes. If Condo Life were a classroom and was given a realistic grade of 90-95%, most of use would be pretty happy with that level of achievement, but that 5% can be so irritating at times ... breathe Stephen, breathe.

I've fallen in love with Canada all over again

It doesn't take a great deal of time or effort to "Google" stats on the Quality of Life or Life Satisfaction around the planet, the numbers quickly pointing in Canada's favour. It's not a fluke that when we have travelled to parts other than the USA, the local's attitudes change immediately when they learn we're Canadian, smiles appears, tones change, and the whole interaction becomes amenable. That's why when the present US administration decided to pick a fight with our nation, threatening a significant change to a life we'd grown accustomed to, a side of Canada appeared that caused some raised eyebrows. What was a sense of concern has morphed into a sense of confidence as new trade relationships have been established to replace the damaged ones, augmented by the "Canada First" notion bolstering inter-nation trade thanks to some subtle and not-so-subtle changes to interprovincial tariffs.

My swelling patriotism causes a feeling of, "Yeah, we got this!", and all it really took was a conscious decision to spend dollars in a different stream. Sure, being a snow-covered nation for nearly half of the year, there are some US products that we cannot avoid like fresh produce and the like, but it didn't take long to develop the mindset of checking labels before tossing into the grocery cart. It's not like I wish a complete divorce from US manufacturers since many of them bare no responsibility for the way things developed, but if there's a way to direct my dollars internally, even if it costs a few more of them, then I'll choose that option first every single time.

The future of North American trade is certainly murky right now, but I suspect that it will emerge from the cocoon bearing no resemblance what so ever to what entered, and I have great confidence that Canada will become a stronger, more independent nation because of it. As with so many regimes, eventually the failures will tip the scales back to a more responsible, respectful leadership group and Canada will begin to build new bridges of trade with our longtime neighbours.  

It's great to be back writing again, and I hope you enjoy!

The Right stuff!

As many of you are already very aware, a good portion of my life has centered around athletics, be it as a participant or a coach, so I feel that I have a comprehensive understanding of the multi-pronged reality that is competition. I stumbled across the following little post by Casey Huff on her FB page in the fall of 2025. When I first read her thoughts, I was immediately moved by both the message and the tone, and I have great respect for her ability as a writer. 

I had shelved this piece since creating it a few months ago, but with the turn of the calendar page to 2026, I'm feeling that I'd like to revisit the habit of sharing my thoughts, so here's one partially because of it's connection with a personal passion, but also since I was reminded of it's message after sitting on my hind end watching the College Football Playoff bowl games. 

In twenty years, it won't matter if they were the best on the team, if they were the fastest on the field, or if they had the most impressive stats. It won't matter if they were recognized for their accomplishments or if they ever received the title of "MVP". It won't matter if their travel team was the best in the league, or if other coaches ever pointed them out and said, "Keep an eye on that kid." It won't matter if they started every game or scored the game-winning run.

Don't get me wrong, I'm my kids' biggest fan. I LOVE watching them in all of their activities. I'm proud and honoured to get to do so. And yes, we're a family who likes to win (and I think that's okay!), but sometimes, it's easy to lose sight of the fact that so much of this sports-parent season is temporary. We get caught up in the competitiveness of wanting our kid to be the best, when really it's kind of insignificant in the bigger picture of their lives.

In twenty years, the things that WILL matter are the other skills our kids are learning during their time playing youth sports. The skills they'll only learn if we put our parent egos aside and have fewer conversations about stats and more conversations about things like:

Kindness.

Humility.

Hard work.

Being a team player.

Supporting their peers.

Being a good sport even when things don't go their way.

Right now, sports are such a big part of our world. From the outside it seems like our kids are working on things like proper technique and fundamentals of the game, and that's part of it, sure, but really this is an even bigger chance for them to learn lessons about life.

And when they've hung up their cleats for the very last time, I hope to walk into the next season of life knowing we haven't just raised accomplished athletes, we've raised incredible humans.

I recall walking into a Rec Center in somewhere-ville Ontario that had a sign posted for all to view as they entered (NOT the one at right, but it's similar). I'm paraphrasing, but it contained a message about, "No college scholarships will be handed out today" and that parents/spectators are reminded, "It's about the love of the game or activity" and not about winning or losing. It further reminded visitors that respect was a core value in that facility and pervaded all aspects of the activities housed therein.

How cool is that?

As Ms Casey alluded to, the vast majority of young athletes are simply exploring ways to have fun, learning through activity by way of a healthy active life, with a very small percentage (that shrinks rapidly with each year) of athletes that might develop the passion requisite for elite competition sometime in the future. Her identification of Humility ... Kindness ... Effort ... Cooperation ... Empathy ... Resilience ... are vital life skills for all, skills that would seem to be in shorter supply these days in today's parks, rinks, rec centers, and classrooms, or at least the places I visit. Her thoughts on this are like a breath of fresh air on the on the far side of a manure-infused stretch of country road.

I feel really good that she and I share a common opinion, but you might not, and that's okay.

Looking at my own kids, score a big gold star for Joyce and I. Yay us!

A Tough celebration

Benjamin Franklin famously wrote in 1789, "In this world nothing can be said to be certain, except death and taxes." Joyce and I have reached that point in life where we completely understand what Ben meant. 

Taxes are a regular topic of discussion around our dinner table thanks to our present state of things, but death visited our Circle recently when one of my family's oldest friends passed over the rainbow bridge after encountering some health complications. The funeral service was this past weekend, and despite the sadness of passing, the stories of a life well lived brought smiles and a chuckles, the remembrance of a stellar woman / sibling / spouse / mom / Nana / G-Nana was wholly celebrated by family and friends. 

Elizabeth Ann (Maroney) Tough passed away on February 26th, 2025, having seen and accomplished a great number of things in her almost 85 years. Although the exact circumstances have become dusty and occluded over the more than 5 decades, I first met BA when my mom and dad bought a semidetached little slice of heaven on Gaylong Court in Toronto, right across the street from Jim and Betty Ann Tough and their 2 children Karen and Michael. For over 50 years, our 2 families have laughed, cried, danced, swam, BBQ'd, hugged, and thoroughly enjoyed each other's company, the highlight being an annual gathering almost exclusively held on the August Civic Holiday weekend. We were "cut from different cloth" as far as personalities go, but that didn't serve as divisive, rather we embraced the variety like a hearty bowl of vegetable soup ... we were warmed from the inside out. 

As Old Man Time marches on, our 2 families have progressed much the same as many, aging gracefully (or not) as Gen 1 greyed, Gen 2 adulted begetting grandkids, Gen 3 also adulted begetting great grandkids, the ebb and flow of this Life throwing challenges that we shared as we conquered. The sadness of loss aside, our cadre has passed on our love's light from generation to generation to generation, the importance of maintaining contact carefully planed and nurtured to ensure the sense of belonging to something bigger continued by receiving regular infusions. The umbrella of caring even extended outwards to include Betty Ann's younger brother Gary as his presence became a welcomed familiarity.

Throughout those years, our group met the challenges of Life head on, each member becoming enveloped in a shroud of selflessness, caring, and connection as we grew to understand how each of us had our strengths, quirks, likes, and dislikes that became almost as familiar as the face we saw every morning in the mirror. 

We've lost a few members along the way.

One of the reasons our clan became so close occurred early on when the Tough's eldest child Karen was tragically killed when navigating a pedestrian crosswalk not far from their home. The grief of burying a child was both devastating and gilding as my parents consoled BA and Jim over their family's tragedy. The time the grieving required brought about opportunity for the kids involved to build relationships of their own, and with Mike and I being of similar age, we joined the other children on our little court in discovering all that the neighbourhood held. As the saying goes, "when one door closes, another opens", bringing with it the light of healing when BA and Jim refocused their "cup runneth over" love by adopted a wee one they named Jennifer, a cherubic little bundle of happiness that was quickly embraced by all in our clan.

Many years later, Death visited us again when my father succumbed to cancer, the tables being turned as the Toughs rallied around my family, helping us navigate our profound sense of loss. By this time, our numbers had swollen, bringing opportunity for the younger to understand the Circle of Life and all that this sense of loss included in its offer. During my family's grieving, the Toughs reminded us of the plethora of happy memories, their light casting away the shadows of our sadness, our tears lovingly wiped away with the laughter of familiarity.

Many who might read this will also be astutely aware of my brother Dave's death nearly 2 years ago now. I've written about that already so you all know how that impacted our class, and we're still reeling over that one, but the Tough clan rallied around us again, selflessly showing their support in our time of need.

Betty Ann's passing was inevitable, just as Ben Franklin proclaimed, and we hugged our way through her absence with beautifully penned reminders from her brother Gary, and her children Jennifer and Michael, each a splendid expose of all that BA shared with the world during her years. The sense of absence I felt was impactful in that I felt like I had lost a quasi-parent, BA's presence having become a part of my life's foundation after so many years. My heart goes out to all who gathered in their effort to find some comfort for the emptiness, and especially to the Tough family who have had to live up to their namesake in the past couple of weeks.

RIP Betty Ann

Enjoy your teary reunion with Karen.

Give my dad Terry a hug from all of us.

Tell my brother Dave that we still talk about his absence.

Pondering

One of the fringe benefits of retirement is the ability to have greater control over how the minutes of your day are spent, whom they are spent with, and the potential future impact of choosing that path. While I dearly loved teaching, and by extension coaching, I have found the last five years of retirement immensely satisfying and fulfilling as I imbued myself in things that uplift my soul, leaving me with a profound sense of accomplishment. It is both the identification of those feelings, and the accompanying evaluation at the close of each experience that has lead to the following thought-provoking questions.

The purpose of this piece is not to wag a finger, to compare, or to preach.

If you find yourself with some minutes unoccupied by the repercussions of what you have chosen to fill those minutes with, please give both the questions and my rebuttals a quick read with the understanding that I lay zero claims of correctness, enlightenment, or transformation, but rather, present them as a gift or a launchpad, to start your personal reflections surrounding each. 

If today were the last day of your life, would you want to do what you are about to do today?

Wow! Nothing like starting with a 'heavy' one, eh? 

For me, with hindsight being 20/20, did I choose wisely when it came time to put all of my eggs in the same basket? That is to say, did I choose the correct path, now that it all said and done, and I have learned a plethora of valuable lessons along that journey? 

I will unequivocally state that teaching (and coaching) is, and always will be, what stokes the flames of my soul's passion, and any day spent in that endeavour permits me a complete sense of accomplishment that warms me to my toes. I cannot even dream of a day where teaching, in all its forms, isn't included in my choice for any day's minutes.

Are you holding onto something that you need to let go of?
Look, I'm no different than so many. I occasionally look back on the memories of my life using the lens of 'coulda' or 'shoulda', playing the compare game with those that matter in my life, and that very act reveals negativity I've shouldered for far too long. Their very presence has impacted my decisions of the here and now by instilling hesitation or anxiety of the what could have been. However, considering these negatives are very few in number, in opposition I hold a great many more decisions and accomplishments that bolster extreme pride in my breast. 

I'll come clean right here and now that one of my regrets surrounds the extent of my focus during my university football career because, being brutally honest, I know that I "left something on the table" that may (or, may not) have made that fractional difference in how some of the challenges I faced eventually played out. While I have come to terms with that regret ... it was over 40 years ago ... the sting of letting myself down, and by extension my team mates, still maintains an edge, and is something that still lingers.

Another regret surrounds my own perceived evaluation of being a Dad. More times than I am comfortable with, I chose my passions for ensuring my players/students were gifted lessons whose foundations were my personal experience to overshadow the lessons that should have been gifted to my own children. While I did attempt to dampen the regret by investing time with them in their sporting choices, I know deep down that I certainly could have done more by prioritizing more effectively. I am still working my way through this one, but when I see them both flourishing in their "adultness", I feel the sting a little less. 

As the saying goes, "That's water under the bridge", and it's time to let them both go.

If we learn from our mistakes then why we are afraid to make mistakes?
This is a BIG one! 

As human beings, we crave inclusion and approval, with the fear of rejection a powerful motivator in Life's significant challenges, instilling a sense of dread directly related to putting our very best out there, lest it be deemed not sufficient. As a life long educator, I am acutely aware that mistakes are a part of the human condition, the consequences of not measuring up to the fruit of the Tree of Life, lessons scaffolded on previous learning to become more than we presently are ... but that doesn't make them any less intimidating.

Look, Giannis Antetokounmpo, NBA All Star and former MVP, put it perfectly when queried about feelings of failure for not winning the championship. “Every year you work, you work towards something, towards a goal, right? Which is to get a promotion, be able to take care of your family, to be able to provide the house for them or take care of your parents. You work towards a goal. It’s not a failure; it’s steps to success. There's always steps to it ... Michael Jordan played 15 years, won six championships; the other nine years was a failure? That's what you're telling me? There's no failure in sports. You know, there's good days, bad days. Some days you are able to be successful, some days you're not. Some days it’s your turn, some days it’s not your turn. And that's what sports is about. You don't always win; some other team’s gonna win. And this year, somebody else is gonna win. Simple as that." 

Mistakes are a natural consequence of trying to accomplish something, and if we fail, it should be seen as a lesson used to manifest personal growth. It's NOT something we should fear. As Confucius stated, "The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step", and if our fear prevents simply striding out, how can we move forward with our life?

In the haste of our daily lives, what are we not seeing?
Oh, if I only knew now what I didn't know back then! 

A popular sentiment these days is to be 'present', to allow ourselves to gain a broader perspective of the HERE, the NOW, lest it be clouded by the past or future. When I look back on my choices, I am given pause when reflecting on my singular focus, missing some of the incredible things happening in my periphery, things that given their due focus might have made a significant difference for those that I hold dear. (See above)

The stark truth is that I don't multi-task very well at all, and when I try, I often come up quite short. I keep trying to improve, but I'm still quite a piece down the pathway from competency, and I must remind myself to be more aware of the "bigger" picture, significantly reducing anxiety while increasing both creativity and productivity. Actively embracing mindfulness and gratitude will stave off the temptation to overthinking a situation, begetting a clearer understanding of the emotions in the happening.

Life is too short to tolerate (fill in the blank)?

At the risk of insulting readers by being crass, Life is too short to tolerate BULLSHIT!

In my vocabulary, that term encompasses a wide array of subjects and thoughts, but at its heart, I mean that I find people with a lack of character, morals, and decency intolerable to interact with. I'm a guy who takes pride in his integrity, my word being my bond, and as such I look to align myself with those of similar stock. I will not suffer those that act in ways that reveal an astute lack of character through actions or words, finding the negativity generated insurmountable to tolerate. 

Case in point, without becoming too political or controversial, the fear mongering, gas lighting, and intimidation of the past 8 weeks since inauguration on January 20th that have filled the news waves thanks to the ever shifting, flip-flopping half truths that have escaped the mind of the US President that, at least for me, cements his place as the poster child for the term. Back on home soil, the recent re-election of Premiere Ford and impending possibilities of PC leader Poilievre have my Bullshit meter clicking louder than a geiger counter at Chernobyl. I'm not claiming to have any sort of crystal ball, but as they say, "actions speak louder than words", and through my personal lens, I see only BS.

Deep sigh with heavy remorse.

A quick Internet search will reveal dozens of questions of this sort. 

Perhaps a sequel post to continue the discussion will arrive in your inbox some time in the future.

As always, thanks for reading.

Shock and awe!

Hey there folks.

I really feel I have to get something off my chest. I'm hesitant in the understanding that the following will cause some blowback, but I feel the compulsion to offer comment on the events that transpired at the White House recently.

February 28th, 2025, will be forever remembered as the proverbial "straw that broke the camel's back", but sadly, it was the decent, common-sense American who's back was broken. The disturbing display of tyrannical, venomous ill-will hurled by the White House in the direction of Ukraine's President Zelenskyy, and broadcast to the world, was a glaring display of undiplomatic, narcissistic, myopic close-mindedness that was, I would guess, an American embarrassment of epic proportions. Put aside the 'Elephant in the Room' that these discussions should have taken place behind closed doors instead of some ridiculous reality television broadcast, the sheer lack of decency and diplomacy was a Tsunami of insults, laying bare to the world that America had better brace itself as the foundations of its house begins to crumble. 

Listen, I have my own opinions about the quality of person that Trump, and by extension Vance, has repeatedly proven to be, but to attack the elected leader of a country in the throws of a vicious unjustified 3-year long full blown war while demanding a Thank You for support given, then berating him with intimidation attempts, "You have no cards in this", is a childlike tantrum to appear powerful and in charge. It was both incredulous and befuddling.

The repercussions of this travesty will be like a festering wound, propagating slowly beneath the surface before erupting in pustules of shock, despair, and angered rebuttal that will send shockwaves around the globe as nations turn their back on all relations with the USA, a direct result of the disintegrating levels of trust required to foster and support diplomatic relationships.

Disagree all you wish, but these events are akin to blaming Jews for angering Hitler's Nazis into a series of horrific decisions. An over exaggeration, yes, but to attack the victim for resisting an invasion with comments like, "You're gambling with WWIII", is paramount to blaming a rape victim for wearing a dress. 

The bewilderment of the world that the past 40 days prompted has been an unexpected eruption of toddler-like temper tantrums leaving no doubt that the America we all have come to recognize over the past few decades will most assuredly be unrecognizable for the foreseeable future.

A sadly significant percentage of the 'adults' of today are certainly leaving a mess for today's youngsters to deal with in the future. Although the old adage, "This too shall pass" holds true, the damage will be done.

Sad times, folks.
These are desperately sad times.

Band of brothers

Scotty B, Scotty S, + OD

If you've read my musings in the past, you might be aware that I'm pretty gosh darned proud of my years attending Queen's University and representing the Gaels as a member of the Men's Football team from fall of '82 to the fall of '86. In other posts like CLICK and CLICK and CLICK, I talked about my experiences, some of the guys that I shared them with, and the impact that they had on my life. As with any group of similarly aged guys, our hearts have been broken due to tragedies of one form or another, so when the group puts out the call to re-unite, I make every concerted effort to get to wherever it will happen. 

This post is a gratitude letter to those guys, and the photos are from our latest 'breaking of bread' in honour of the holiday season for 2024.

The photo above is (L to R) Scotty Bissessar, Scott Stirling, and Ross O'Doherty. I included it at the top of the post because not only are they 3 mighty fine looking old farts, but it captures the celebratory mood of the day succinctly and completely. Ross (on the right) has become our sherpa, our fearless leader, our Julie the cruise director, the irresistible force that sounds the call to arms for another reunion of our brothers.
Plus, he makes (nudge, nudge Heather) the tastiest Christmas shortbreads this side of Toronto!

For a little background, the football program at Queen's is one of the more successful, storied, tradition-rich of it's kind, and our shared years there did nothing to tarnish that image. We enjoyed more than our fair share of success, but the single greatest unifying factor was a Cinderella run at the Vanier Cup in 1983 where our big yellow hearts (inside joke) fell just seconds short of besting the brawn of the Dinos from Calgary. Despite the sting of falling just shy of that lofty goal, our Vanier experience forged chains of steel that linked our souls for all time. I'm sure the photo to the right has your brow furled ... Thanks to a gaff in translating my 20 year old self's penmanship, I was introduced at the Vanier to the CBC viewership as Stew. Way too funny!

As one of us harkened, we are indeed a 'Band of Brothers'.

Andy, Scotty B, and yours truly

Like any varsity program, those that toiled shoulder to shoulder in the trenches span a swath of years, and as such, we are a group of late 50's to mid 60's distinguished gentlemen who have reached one of Life's great milestones as we transition from working years to retirement. Such a metamorphosis lends a perspective rich in fellowship, connection, and camaraderie. A toast is raised to they that have gone before us, their smiles and gibes sorely missed, and we slip quickly back into the 20-something mindset of our yesteryear to reminisce of the shenanigans, the highlights, and the heartbreaks. There is much laughter, the occasional misty eye, the smiles of connection, and long tight embraces as we wish nothing but the best for our brothers and their families. 

Pete, Ian, and Pete's son

While it is true that we do not spend as many moments together as we would all desire, it is also very true that we shun the sting of absence by quickly embracing the kinship worthy of our Gaelic heritage, sharing both drink and news of our loved ones. It was remarked that day that ours is a connection stronger than the heartiest forged metal thanks to the circumstances surrounding our unanticipated rise to the tip of the football pile, and that was evident once again as those that could attend, did, without hesitation, ignoring the distance.

Connie, Tom, and Rick

I would like my brothers to know how much their continuing friendship means to me, then and now, an influence of epic repercussions, and that I appreciate the role they have played in my becoming the person I am. The lessons we learned cooperatively those many years ago have helped immeasurably as I navigated the peaks and valleys of the life I've lived, and I have dutifully endeavoured to pass their teachings on to those youngsters I coached, that they would share in the glory of connection.

To my brothers ...
I am forever grateful.
I am truly humbled by your continuing friendship.
I sincerely wish you all health, prosperity, and peace this holiday season and the coming year.

That's a great question!

Like the movie, "I'm baaaaack!" I have allowed my schedule to be incredibly busy these past couple of months, so writing to a back seat, as it were. I figured it was time to tickle the keys again.

One of the dichotomous notions involved with advancing along Life's path are the polar opposites of "I'm not that old!" and "I'm so old!" as a reaction to situations that arise through the sharing of common experiences or opinions. Along that vein, nostalgia dictates that we look longingly backwards at the things that struck a chord at formative periods of our life, and as such, questions arise from time to time that conjure up some memories of yesteryear because they made us ponder or contemplate.

While I'm proud of my cognitive powers, I didn't come up with all of the questions below on my own, and since making a note of them quite a while ago, I can no longer recall where I copied most from, so I'll come clean that I did, in fact, plagiarize some. I give full credit to the original author. If I'm honest, however, I did come up with some of these on my own, but who knows if it was creation or recall. If great minds think alike, so be it!

Enjoy the thinking that some may conjure!
My true goal is to make the corners of your mouth turn up, even if it's only a brief passing.

Who let the Dogs Out? And why'd they do it?

Where, exactly, is the beef?

What is involved with getting to Sesame Street?

Why doesn't Dora just use Google Maps?

Why are eggs packaged in a flimsy paper carton, yet batteries in impenetrable plastic?

Why can't women put on mascara with their mouth closed?

Why is "abbreviation" such a long word?

Why is lemon juice is made with artificial flavour, yet dish-washing liquid with real lemons?

Why do we park in a driveway, yet drive on a parkway?

Why do they use sterilized needles for lethal injections?

Why do you "put your two cents in", but are offered only a "penny for your thoughts"?

Why do "The Alphabet Song" and "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" have the same melody?

Why did you just try to sing those two previous songs?

What, specifically, is Victoria's secret?

Why hasn't anyone come out with a line of mouse-flavoured cat food yet?
Why is the word "queue" simply the letter Q followed by four silent letters?
Why aren't eyebrows considered facial hair when they're obviously on your face?
Why is good health highly encouraged when it's really just a slower rate of dying?
Why are we urged to "be a leader and not a follower," yet expected to follow that advice?
Why doesn’t glue stick to the inside of the bottle?
Why do feet stink and noses run?
Why doesn’t Tarzan have a beard?
What colour does a Smurf turn if choking?
What hair colour do they record on bald people’s driver’s licenses?
Who tests and confirms whether dog food is ever improved?
Why can something be described as new and improved at the same time?

Why is it called rush hour when it is actually the slowest time of the day?

Why is a boxing ring square?

Why do we wait until night to "call it a day"?

When you try to fail and succeed, which have you done?

Why did Cinderella’s shoe fall off if it fit her perfectly?

Which orange came first, the fruit or the colour?

Why do we keep our garments in a suitcase and our suits in a garment bag?

Why is patience such a virtue if the early bird has the advantage?

What handcuffs do you use on a one-armed man?

When you have fun wasting time, are you still wasting it?

Why do the sayings “slim chance” and “fat chance” have the same meaning?

I'm sure there are actually answers to some of these questions, but I don't have them. 

I hope that some of them at least made you smile!