Monthly Archives: June 2016

Runaways

“I knew it when I met you, I’m not gonna let you runaway,
I knew it when I held you, I wasn’t lettin’ go,” – from “Runaways” by The Killers (Flowers)

 

They traveled. They went to Montreal, New York, Los Angeles, London, Dubai, Paris, Marseille, Cape Town, Pretoria, Johannesburg, Vancouver, Rio, Casablanca, Jerusalem, Amsterdam, Berlin, Dublin, Cardiff, Bucharest, Lisbon, Kyiv, Krakow, Nice, San Francisco, Seville, Prague, Cairo, Bangkok, Brisbane, Sydney, Perth, Madrid, Bilbao, Barcelona, Valencia, Wellington, Auckland, Ho Chi Minh City, Jakarta, Beijing, Shanghai, and Hong Kong.

When they traveled, they sometimes went alone.

They ate and they drank. They fucked and they made love. They held each other and they slept. They yelled and they screamed. They walked in silence and talked for adventure.

They almost stopped speaking five times throughout the 40 years they were together.

They liked hugs, but didn’t like holding hands.

They loved animals. Even the scary ones. Continue reading

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When We Were Young

“Let me photograph you in this light,
In case it is the last time,
That we might be exactly like we were,” – from “When We Were Young” by Adele (Adkins, Jesso Jr.)

I found an old newspaper that I saved because it had picture that hit a chord of inspiration for me. Here’s the story I wrote about it:

Olivia kept the photograph of her grade three class because it was in the newspaper. When she was nine, she did not really understand why it was a big deal to have your picture in the newspaper. Her mother kept it safe for her at first, and over the last twenty years, it traveled everywhere Olivia traveled. Even to the mushroom-tripped and MDMA flights during Thailand’s full moon parties, the picture was in her bag. What Olivia most enjoyed about it was you couldn’t see her face. Naomi’s right arm covers it as she raises both triumphantly in the air. Olivia’s own arms are also raised, but in front of her. She always thought this was hilarious as there is no way to confirm it is even her in the picture. Continue reading


Here Comes My Man

“Let the good night decide, who she wants me to find,” – from “Here Comes My Man” by The Gaslight Anthem (Fallon, Rosamilia, Levine, Horowitz)

I asked my friends (and myself) if they could remember the first time they fell in love with their people. Here is what they came up with:

Omar: “When we were sitting on the fire escape at our old apartment during my welcome home party from rehab. It was like the first time I looked at her. Like actually observed her as this strange human being. She wasn’t the person I slept with. She wasn’t the person that picked my ragged ass up off the ground. She was a stranger, and it was that stranger I think I fell in love with. I saw her from the moment she was born and through all the moments of her life until we sat on the fire escape that day and figured us out. I knew I loved her in the seconds before I told her. I’m just glad I remembered her name.”

Chris: “Don’t ask me Jack. My love stuff is more fucked up than yours. Okay fine. When did I realize I loved Ava? When I watched her plane takeoff and I looked to my right to make some off-hand, bullshit comment, and I realized she wasn’t there. She was hurtling through the sky, away from me, at thousands of miles per hour. So I bought a ticket on the next plane to London and the rest is boring, ancient history.” Continue reading


Bushwick Blues

After his revelation about exploding words, Jack went to a cottage. He needed to get out of the urban mess and noise of the city.

I can’t write in the third-person anymore. I spent the last week at a family friend’s cottage. It was quaint, cozy, and quiet. I spent my nights by the campfire sipping beers and getting lost in memories. I spent the days on the deck, over-looking the glistening lake, reading, sipping beers, and getting lost in memories. I wrote a bunch as well and here is what I came up with:

 

I’m Just A Girl:

“’Cause I’m just a girl I’d rather not be, ‘cause they won’t let me drive late at night,
Oh, I’m just a girl, guess I’m some kind of freak, ‘cause they all sit and stare with their eyes,” – from “Just A Girl” by No Doubt (Stefani, Dumont)

 

I was barbequing some hot dogs – they are terrible, but so fucking tasty – and had my iPod on shuffle. No Doubt’s “I’m Just a Girl” came on. At first I was drawn back to the moment I purchased the album as an oily, acne faced teenager at Sam The Record Man on Yonge Street in Toronto. While having my mind jump between different scenes from that time in my life, I had a thought about how Marilyn Monroe was just a girl with a dream and a name that wasn’t Marilyn Monroe. She was a girl and is an icon, but an icon of what? Sexiness? Womanhood? Blondes? What was it that Norma really wanted?

Continue reading


Our Love (My Heart Exploding Words)

“She is a living fire, she is a reason to live, she is killing me burning only for him, I’ll spend my whole life loving her, my heart exploding words,” -from “Our Love” by Rhett Miller (Miller)

 

Just going to toss it out there: every time I listen to Rhett Miller sing the words above, I think about Erica Smith and the time she showed up at my apartment after Cynthia’s work fundraiser in her amazing blue dress, that matched her amazing blue eyes. We made out a bunch, and through no fault of our own, ended up spending the night on my couch. It was amazing.

That being said, Rhett’s words also channel an idea I have had for a while. It’s a screenplay about a film set where everyone is somehow lovingly or lustfully linked to everyone else. From my short time in LA and the stories I have heard from Omar, this isn’t entirely out of the ordinary, but MY script would be hilarious. MY script would be heartfelt. MY script would capture the hearts, loins, and minds of…probably just me. Continue reading


Red Lights

“In all good faith and sentiment, I can’t believe somehow, that I haven’t died of grief or something, since you left this town, I’m all undecorated cigarettes, and standard white apartment walls,
At 3 AM and 4 AM, it’s impossible to sleep, I’d do anything to hold you, and feel you next to me, But I’m all sore eyes and beasts at my backdoor, pulling out their claws,” -from “Red Lights” by Molly and the Zombies (Fallon)

 

You never know when you might meet the most important person in your life. This was the thought I had when I sat down with Cynthia and Chris one day for brunch years ago. We all lived in Toronto then, and my TV show, Astoria, was still being lived and not even a glimmer in my brown eyes. I had just started working at Blood On The Racks, a book store on Queen Street near Bellwoods Park and had met Amy, my inconveniently cool and attractive new co-worker.

Also, on the way to brunch a bird shat on my shoulder. It was great. Continue reading


San Dimas High School Football Rules

“Last night I had a dream that we went to Disneyland, Went on all the rides, didn’t have to wait in line,
I drove you to your house where we stared up at the stars, I listened to your heartbeat as I held you in my arms,” -from “San Dimas High School Football Rules” by The Ataris (Roe)

 

“San Dimas High School Football Rules” is a song by the Ataris. It is also, still, one of my favourite songs. It has been since I was 22 years old. I am now 37. What the fuck is wrong with me?

All I can think about is how our flaws guided our stories. Some of them were serious, some funny, and some just ridiculous. My three major flaws are that I am an idealist, a dreamer, and a control freak. I romanticize things to the extent that reality – past, present, and future – becomes a fiction that I build expectations around. When those expectations aren’t met, the bottom falls out of the dinghy, the oar slips away, and the tsunami wave approaches with speeds not seen in this galaxy.
Continue reading


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