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Danny Stories (Episode 3) - How to Know What You're Getting for Christmas

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My little girl asked for me to make a book about Danny stories -  real accounts of young Danny and his many childhood adventures. Danny was a good little boy, and always very... sneaky. Now for a young boy, there is nothing better in the world than the anticipation of Christmas. Presents lay under the tree, lights glimmer in the night, carols and jollity fill the air, presents lay under the tree. And, presents lay under the tree. That's right, little Danny  has   had an obsession with Christmas gifts. In fact, it was to the point where he needed to know what he was getting. Perhaps he would die otherwise? No worries. There are ways and means for a young boy to know his gifts. The first is rather simple. Mom puts the gifts under the tree. Danny picks up his gifts and gives them a shake. The unmistakable rattle and hum of Lego resounds. Mom yells in frustration. Danny smirks. He then measures the size of the box and compares it to the Lego sets in the Sears Christmas catalogue. A fe

Limited Covid Gatherings - They Make Me Sick

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The province of Saskatchewan recently announced a temporary measure to help slow the spread of coronavirus. The new rule is that there can be no private gatherings of more than ten people. Ten is max. However, if you have more than ten people in your immediate family, they've graciously allowed all to stay under the same roof. So no, such families will not have to choose their least favourite child. It is more of the same - completely brainless and illogical. It is unreal. Are you in favour of this? Fine. But then you must also be begging the government to shut down schools. I teach a small class of twenty students. Every day I am in close contact with twenty different households. And who are those students in contact with? One student is on a provincial hockey team. That's 15 other households from across the province. Another is on a provincial baseball team. Same with him. And so on and so forth. I estimate my daily contact with students pushes me in the realm of contact with

Danny Stories (Episode 2) - The Second Coming of Gretzky

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My little girl asked for me to make a book about Danny stories -  real accounts of young Danny and his many childhood adventures. Danny was a good little boy, and always very... busy. Well Danny had two older brothers and an older sister. Nothing against the older sister, but she didn't play hockey. The older brothers did. And so Danny followed what the older brothers did.  To be a younger brother is to have an advantage. That is, you never really learn how to play hockey, you just always somehow know how.  Danny's first childhood memory was of him skating. Two little feet, laced into old brown skates, inching forward on a sheet of glass. His second memory is of him losing a mini-stick at a rink, while his older brothers had a hockey practice. It was all hockey.  Well Danny soon was old enough for hockey. Almost. The town Danny lived in said he was too young to play - possibly they were just racist against four-year-olds - so Danny's dad drove him to a nearby village where

Last Night I had a Dream that I was Elvis...

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Last night I had a dream that I was Elvis. I was the king of rock and roll. I sang my songs of love and rebellion for the downtrodden world.  But the world was not pleased with me. I wasn't wearing a mask while I sang. "You're spreading coronavirus everywhere!" they screeched in anger. I shook my hips to appease their wrath. It didn't help. Not anymore. Karens are above hip shakes. Mercy! So I left the building. I went on the run. Through canyons and caves I fled, refusing to jailhouse rock with a muffling mask. But eventually the government caught up to where I was hiding. I was caught in the final scenes from The Sound of Music.  The soldiers were slowly panning their flashlight in my location. I was ducked out under the seat of a pink Cadillac-suburban. The light gleamed before me. I held my breath, and silently fixed the single hair that fell out of place. They never found me. Take that government. Long live the king.

Dad, Can You Tell Me a Danny Story? Episode 1

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"Dad, can you please tell me a Danny story?" Such is the daily request from my four year old daughter every night before bed. "Danny" being me - when I was just a wee lad - and the stories are the real-life adventures young Danny encountered. And so I begin every night with a "Danny was a good little boy, and always very..."  They fill in the blank. "Curious!" "Hungry!" "Bad!" Then the story begins. Last night my daughter had a further request. "You should make a book of Danny stories." Hmmm... maybe I will. But how? Perhaps I can start writing them down on this my personal blog, and collect them later. Let's try one for size, shall we? * * * Danny was a good little boy, and always very... interesting. It was a rare day. The actual day on the calendar said Good Friday, which I suppose is not so rare, being a yearly occurrence and all. But it was a beautiful, warm, and sunny Good Friday, which was almost unheard

Trudeau and the Final Straw

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Pre-Covid, Canada was like a man person on a mission. The goal was to banish all plastic straws. I believe the logic was such: straws kill polar bears. And so, more of the unreal ensued. Schools, in particular, became the breeding ground for such environmental madness. Enter coronavirus. Suddenly masks have become the flavour of the day for Canadian "values". Wear masks or kill grandma. It sounds harsh. But wear masks or kill polar bears can't be used, because such a phrase would be dripping in glacial-melted irony. You see, masks are everywhere. I do not refer simply to human faces. I mean they are in every ditch, river, and piece of the world that would otherwise be occupied with straws. Masks are literally littered everywhere - they are the new straws.  So what a predicament. How can Canada attempt to ban straws to protect the environment when they also mandate masks everywhere...  Enter Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau with the solution: We will ban not only

One Year Ago: Vatican Idol

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One year ago today I came home from Mass and adoration and was feeling pretty good. I turned on my computer and was presented with this: I felt sick. This was maybe the grossest moment I’ve ever experienced as a Catholic. Needless to say , if the past 12 months are any indication, I don’t think God has been too pleased either.