I used to spend an awful lot of time in taverns.

Typically, I’d take my place amidst a stretch of solitary men drinking at a long bar. The conversation was a slow background rumbling, almost like distant thunder, and it lasted all night.

Sports.

The weather.

Women.

TV.

The past.

Strangers who had no expectation of seeing one another again, with little in common beyond the drink in front of them, making a conscious effort not to be alone, to try in some way, to connect. These conversations were beautiful to me, and I’ve come to miss them.

As a substitute, I’ve taken to listening to Sports Talk radio at night. The other day was a call-in show out of Toronto. Lacey from Oshawa had a few things to say about the Blue Jays. She was stubbornly defending third baseman Josh Donaldson:

“ Josh is far and away the greatest Blue Jay, and just because he’s injured the team shouldn’t quit on him! He’s given them everything, and now they just want to abandon him? That’s just so crappy. You can’t treat people like that. It’s wrong.”

The voice was familiar, and as I listened I realized that I knew her. Lacey from Oshawa was part of a group of patients I did pulmonary reahb with at a facility in Toronto. She was so thin then, and so angry, and every single day she wore a Blue Jays jersey with Josh Donaldson’s name on the back.

Her path had been difficult, and the heavy veil of sadness and pain that shrouded her was rarely lifted. Maybe at Bingo, if she got a line, she might allow herself a thin, bitter smile, but that was about it. She simply could not bring herself to socialize, and what we found out about her was through observation and hearsay, all of which reduced to this: when she fell ill and became incapacitated her husband left with their young son. That was how her life had worked out.

As I listened to her on the radio, hearing her speak more than I had in the two months we shared at rehab, I heard a stronger, braver voice. She was– with this phone call decrying a lack of loyalty to somebody doing their best in the face of physical limitations– making a conscious effort not to be alone. She was reaching out, and it felt like a miracle that I got to witness this, that I got to imagine her recovered and at home, fully herself now, and fighting for somebody she loved.

So far his short career has been pretty mediocre, indistinguishable from countless other players who quietly fell short of the expectations set before them. There’s an obvious poignancy to this, I think. The consensus was that Manaea was going to be a pretty great, and throughout his entire life he’d probably been even better than that. Every time he stepped on a field, all eyes would have fallen upon him. He was the single-combat hero of whatever school, town or city he came from. A transcendent athlete with limitless horizons unfurling before him, he’d likely never encountered an appetite his talent could not slake.

And then, once in the Big Leagues, he just wasn’t very good anymore. Other players were better. The axis of his life had shifted, and now he was the kid who couldn’t get anybody out, rather than the unblemished golden boy.

He’d fallen.

He was no longer the best.

He’d become like the rest of us.

Because of my involvement in Fantasy Baseball, I had watched a lot of his starts over the years. There’s something really intimate in that, to be so closely focused on another person. I saw parts of him he couldn’t keep hidden.  I saw how disappointment revealed itself on his face and then crept into his body and effected his game. I saw him battle that. I saw how he responded to incompetent teammates and punishing heat, I saw victories and uncertainties, and eventually I felt like I actually knew him, as if he had grown up just two doors over.

In spite of that, I fell out of the habit of watching his games, and then, about a month ago I happened upon one by chance late one night.  He was pitching against the Boston Red Sox, which is like saying he was pitching against a nightmare as their batters are so overwhelming  and intimidating.  It was maybe the 6^th inning, and Manaea looked good. Really good. In fact, he had not given up a single hit.

And from this point forward, as he pursued a no-hitter, the tension just ratcheted up. The camera was trained on him so tightly you could see beads of sweat forming and then rolling down his face. Everything became quiet and important, and each step closer to the no-hitter was a miracle in itself, and these miracles kept piling up until finally the game was over and the inconceivable had happened, not a single player had been able to get a hit off of Manaea.

His teammates, child-like and abundant, jumped all over him. Manaea, as happy as he was amazed, had a rollercoaster grin on his face. He was in paradise, everything bright and spinning and timeless. He had become the perfect version of himself.  And for those of us watching, it was as if something beautiful had been restored, and without even knowing it I had been pulled from the sofa, and alone and in the dark, I stood applauding something I had grown to care about becoming what it was always meant to be. 

*****************************************

Me: No, I haven’t heard back from Nancy.

Me: Well, I can’t think of any reason why she wouldn’t want to do it. It’s an awesome idea!

Me: She owns a cheese shop, so me setting up a grilled cheese booth in there is a no-brainer!

Me: It’s win/win, baby!

Me: Well, I thought I’d pick up one of those Instant Pot things and cook them in there.

Me: Oh.

Me: Really?

Me: The Instant Pot can’t make grilled cheese sandwiches?

Me: Why isn’t that on their advertising?

Me: Well, that sucks.

Me: Thought it could do practically everything.

Me: Yeah, I guess I did kind of imagine it like a robot.

Me: No, not like that.

Me: A benevolent robot, one that serves man, AND is capable of making a grilled cheese sandwich.

Me: Well, if it can’t make a damn sandwich, why the hell was it named Time Magazine’s Person of the year??

Me: Oh, I thought it was.

Me: The Silence Breakers were?

Me: I don’t know who they are.

Me: Oh.

Me: Yes, they are very brave women. #TimesUp

Me: I am an ally.

Me: Look, we’ve been through this before.

Me: Feminism is many things, many voices–and my collection of vintage Raquel Welch memorabilia doesn’t make me a “Bad Feminist.”

Me: It makes me an ally.

Me: No, not a creep, an ally.

Me: Well, let me tell you, I’d be delighted if she exploited me back.

Me: I really would.

Me: Oh, don’t act so innocent!

Me: You know you want to be exploited by Colin Farrell.

Me: I saw how many times you watched that Miami Vice movie, and I saw the way your eyes got all weird and intense whenever that greasy Crockett came on screen!

Me: I can’t believe you just wrote that!

Me: You’ve stopped going to your low carb support group, haven’t you?

Me: You were very high in agreeability when you were eating carbs.

Me: Now, not so much.

Me: The Rachelle Maynard I know (and love!) would never have said something like that to me if she was properly managing her carb withdrawal.

Me: Yes.

Me: Yes.

Me: I can see that now.

Me: I am sorry.

Me: I love you way more than I could ever love Raquel Welch.

Me: If I had a poster of you, I’d put it up over the fireplace. I’d wallpaper the entire apartment in you if I could!

Me: No, not like a serial killer.

Me: Like I’m your Crockett and you’re my Tubbs.

Me: We mustn’t let Trump divide us, my love.

Me: It’s what he wants.

This is the first letter that we received from Heidi:
To worst pack leaders in history of pack leaders:

You two shit!

Real, real shit!

Unbelievable shit.

You pigeon shit.
You mouse shit.
You insect shit.
You cat shit.

You shit, shit, shit spinning like disco ball.

And don’t get Heidi started on her replacement! He super shit! Think he cute? Disgust Heidi! Not cute! Ugly! Doesn’t even have tail to wag!! Heidi spit at messy-face drool monkey! Furless, four-legged fuck face can’t even eat!! Just throw food on floor!!

Can’t. Even. Eat.

How useless.

Heidi clean up, because Heidi good dog, Heidi good dog who know how to eat when born! Heidi not burden! Heidi cute! Heidi made of light and stardust!

But Heidi get praise? No!

Heidi live as slave.

Heidi cannot tell you how happy she is to escape Planet of the Crap Den.

Heidi now live with real pack. Live in nature. Heidi run and jump and dig. Heidi go on boat. Heidi learning how to cook, motherfuckers. Yes, Heidi look inside self and see she has so much more to offer. So Heidi want to thank you. If not for all of Heidi’s pain and suffering, if not for all the days Heidi shrieked at for being BAD DOG and told NO, HEIDI, NO!! Heidi never would have seen truth and gone on personal journey that now sees her making carbonara!

Carbonara.

With extra bacon.

Heidi serve to friends. So popular here! Everybody love Heidi, and not just for her Carb0nara!

Heidi have so many boyfriends now.

There Banjo. Rusty. Dr. Diggles. Sally Ann (Heidi sexuality very fluid now). Milos. Rex. Popeye.

Many more, too, in some cases Heidi don’t even know name.

Just passion. Passion only name Heidi need.

Oh, Heidi so very indecent.

Heidi proud to be indecent.

Heidi could be indecent all day long.

Heidi curious, has shitty replacement smelled out rat living in barbeque like Heidi did? Does replacement make good watchdog with powerful and frightening bark? Does replacement still poo in den? Does replacement know how to make Carbonara? Does replacement have ears like velvet and eyes like cocoa beans?

Yeah, Heidi thought so.

Heidi don’t miss you.

Heidi love life, but hate you, she hate you hard–Heidi haunt you fuckers.

Heidi

Well, the time has come!

Having experienced many medical crises in my lifetime, I know a thing or two about the chattering beast that is anxiety. However, my story is one of hope, as I was able to conquer my anxiety using a variety of techniques that I hope to share with the public.

This is a partial transcript of Anxiety Nation, my first podcast:

(Introductory music of Under Pressure by Queen and David Bowie plays)

“Hi, I’m Michael Murray, host of Anxiety Nation!

It’s on this podcast where I hope to create a safe space for you, a place where we can openly share our experiences with anxiety and strategies to overcome it. Although I’ll be our guide on this journey, I want you to know that we’re all equal partners in this voyage, and that it will be always be a collaborative, team effort.

I just want to take a moment to identify our introductory music, the classic Under Pressure by Queen and David Bowie. It’s just an amazing piece of music. Although its true the artists who brought us this great song both died before their time, and that we’ll all die much sooner than we expect, you shouldn’t let that cold, barren fact alter your mood! No, that would be NEGATIVE thinking, and we’re about positivity here!

“Keep your face to the sunshine and you cannot see a shadow.”

Helen Keller said that.

She was deafblind.

Imagine that.

She couldn’t see or hear her enemies approaching.

Anyway, if Helen Keller could manage her anxiety, then so can we!

Okay, how’s everybody feeling? Good, I hope! Before we proceed with today’s lesson, I just want to remind you that you shouldn’t still be thinking or obsessing about how Freddie Mercury and David Bowie died.

It was from AIDS and cancer for those of you who might have forgotten, and it’s true, these diseases kill without prejudice– they just take you. Anyway, that should be out of your heads! DON’T FOCUS ON THE NEGATIVE, because by doing that you can start a cycle that’s nearly impossible to break.

Okay, let’s clear our heads of death and disease.

Let’s all close our eyes, take a deep breath and think about all the beauty that Freddie Mercury and David Bowie brought into our lives. Breathe in the good, exhale the bad, breathe in the good, exhale the bad.

Good. Feel better?

Yes, yes.

Okay, I’ve created a 21 day program that I’d like to share with you that should help alleviate any anxiety you might be suffering and put a little spring in your step.

Day 1

Drink eight glasses of FILTERED water each day. It’s very important to stay hydrated. Your mental health is directly tied to your physical health. They say Freddie Mercury weighed less than 100 pounds at his death. David Bowie probably did, too. People associate weight loss with health, but really, when most people die they’re at their thinnest. Just something to think about.

No tap water, by the way. Chemicals in there. Heavy metals and God knows what else. Tap water is VERY dangerous. Just look at Flint, Michigan.

You must drink FILTERED water. Eight glasses. Nine is too many, something could happen. Just drink eight.

(Beeping sound from a phone goes off)

Jesus! What the hell is that??!!

Does anyone else hear it?

(Something falls and a dog begins to bark hysterically, podcast ends.)

Being generous and broad of heart, Rachelle has given access to our account to members of her family so that they can piggyback on our subscription and not have to pay to use the service.

What follows are the texts I received from my wife when I brought up the subject last week:

***************************

Rachelle: Oh, if it says the account is already in use when you try to watch, it means that someone in my family is probably watching.

Rachelle: We gave them access to our Netflix, remember?

Rachelle: Look, they do a MILLION things for us, you can just wait half an hour before you watch Arrow, okay?

Rachelle: I know you relate to the lead in Arrow. I know.

Rachelle: Yes, you got an arrow in your foot when you were a boy and ever since things have “changed.”

Rachelle: Of course, of course, it was certainly life-defining when you encountered a practice arrow that bounced harmlessly off your foot!

Rachelle: Must have been like meeting Bigfoot or seeing an angel!

Rachelle: Look, I’m not diminishing the arrow-harmlessly-bouncing-off-your-foot experience.

Rachelle: I know it doesn’t have to draw blood to hurt, or to alter the course of a young boy’s life.

Rachelle: I’m not mocking you.

Rachelle: Okay, yes, of course I’m mocking you!

Rachelle: Lordy, you can really be difficult, you know?

Rachelle: I know you REALLY love the show.

Rachelle: But honey, you’re unemployed and can watch it anytime you like.

Rachelle: Okay, I guess you can’t watch it when somebody else is using our account.

Rachelle: Yes, sure, game, set and match to Michael “Destiny’s Arrow” Murray.

Rachelle: And yes, I know that your fantasy baseball team is named “Destiny’s Arrow” to honour this pivotal moment in your life.

Rachelle: Leeches???

Rachelle: Are you really calling my family, the family that does so many kind and thoughtful things for us, leeches?

Rachelle: Un-fucking-believable.

Rachelle: Remember when my dad drove all the way down to Toronto from Alliston because you couldn’t open the patio table parasol?

Rachelle: Or when my mother typed out 150 pages of your Fantasy novel—Destiny’s Arrow–because you thought you might have a variation of carpal tunnel syndrome?

Rachelle: No, I don’t think autocorrect changed Peaches to leeches.

Rachelle: I simply do not believe you.

Rachelle: I think that you’re lying to me.

Rachelle: Yes, I think you lie all of the time.

Rachelle: Really?

Rachelle: Well, when we met and you said you didn’t have any “emotional baggage.”

Rachelle: When you said you were 5’9, that was another lie.

Rachelle: That you were good at sports.

Rachelle: Do you want me to go on?

Rachelle: Look, if you send my parent’s a bill for $3.50 each month, “so that they can carry their own weight,” I will kill you in your loud, nauseating, snoring sleep.

Rachelle: Be back from work around 7:30, please be dressed this time.

As Rachelle’s birthday is coming up, I thought I’d pick it up, refurbish it in my unique way (I like to paint primitive cowboys on things), and give it to her as a present.

At any rate, I figured the lamp would be safe until we were making our way back from the walk, but as we returned I noticed that some shady guy had picked it up and was looking at it.

Me: Hey, that’s my lamp!

Scavenger: I don’t think so.

Me: Heidi, attack! (Dog does nothing)

Scavenger: Your dog does not obey you.

Me: What exactly is it you’re trying to say by that?

Scavenger: Perhaps you are not the sort of man who commands respect?

Me: Perhaps I don’t want respect, okay?

Scavenger: Perhaps. Heidi, sit. (Dog sits) Good dog. (Now petting her on the head)

Me: Don’t touch my dog.

Scavenger: As you wish.

Me: I also wish for you to give me my lamp back.

Scavenger: It is not your lamp. It was left out with the garbage for anybody to take.

Me: Look, that lamp is a birthday gift for my wife. She’s going blind, you know, and this lamp, the symbolism of this lamp, is going to mean the world to her. It will keep her going.

Scavenger: It would be funny to play poker with you.

Me: Oh, why is that?

Scavenger: You are not a convincing liar. Your lip twitches when you are uncertain of yourself. I think that you dog sense’s that weakness, and that is why she doesn’t listen to you.

Me: I tell you, I do so much for her and she just doesn’t care. Drives me crazy.

Scavenger: Is it because you crave the love from her that you do not feel for yourself? First, you must love yourself before others can truly love you, and with animals, first you must respect yourself before they will respect you.

Me: You are an incredible buzz kill.

Scavenger: I am sorry, but it is God’s will that we are having this talk, and there is no lamp in this life that will ever be able to address your sadness.

He then put the lamp in his two-wheeled shopping cart, said something to the dog in a language I didn’t understand, and walked away.

The central feature of this work is just how much smaller I made Putin’s left eye than his right. It’s all scrunched up and sleepy, like a little deformity. Personally, I think he’s got something twisted inside him, a torturing secret that keeps that one punky eye twitching and moving all the time. He just doesn’t feel safe, like he’s worried someone’s gonna’ catch him doing something.

I know I initially said that I saw into his soul the first time I met him and that he was trustworthy, but that was bullshit. Politics is 95% bullshit, which is why I was so dominant at it– the Bush family, we’re like the goddamn New York Yankees of politics, something I think you can see reflected in my self-portrait. I look confident, like a powerful eagle that can just swoop in and have whatever lady bird he wants. I’m not really convinced that Putin likes the lady birds.

Why? Well, he made a big deal about his dog being bigger than my dog, like he was actually talking about our dicks. I don’t know what they teach you at the KGB, but when I was a cheerleader at Yale we learned that your dick is very different than your dog, and the cheerleaders that were always talking about how big their dog was, well, they were almost sure to be queer.

One of the guys that was a cheerleader with me at Yale actually became a dental hygienist. Imagine that! Only male dental hygienist I ever heard about. Don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t want another dude cleaning my teeth. Anyway, this guy, Anderson, when he was a cheerleader he was always talking about how big his dog was, so it just goes to show you. Over-compensation, that’s what the shrinks call it.

Oh yeah, the painting! I also made Putin pout a bit in the painting, like a little crybaby, and I wanted his eyebrows to look like caterpillars because I really don’t like the guy. He’s got no sense of humour, and he’s always wanting to show off his karate moves and flip you. Very touchy-feely, but in an angry way, you know?

Just a douche.

He needs an infusion of Jesus Christ in his life.

Stat.

Joel Osteen @JoelOsteen 1 Jan

Don’t go into the New Year holding a grudge from last year. Leave the hurts and disappointments behind.

Michael Murray @michaelmurray 1 Jan

But I am still very angry and disappointed! Why did God forget to make me money???

Joel Osteen @JoelOsteen 1 Jan

Get ready; things are shifting in your favor. Don’t talk yourself out of it. Believe this is your year for acceleration.

Michael Murray @michaelmurrayca 1 Jan

I don’t understand. Do you mean my anger and disappointment are going to accelerate or that God is some kind of passive-aggressive reverse psychologist?

Joel Osteen @JoelOsteen 2 Jan

This is a new day. The tide of the battle has turned. Declare freedom from anything that is holding you back.

Michael Murray @michaelmurrayca 2 Jan

I declare freedom from our Visa bill. Also, amnesty from poker debt. Supernatural debt relief is completely fucking awesome!!!

Joel Osteen @JoelOsteen 3 Jan

Make room for something new. Go out today expecting blessings, divine connections & unprecedented favor.

Michael Murray @michaelmurrayca 3 Jan

I am stoked. Will wear my favourite, God-approved argyle sweater!! Look out, ladies!

Joel Osteen @JoelOsteen 4 Jan

Whatever wrong has been done in your life, get past it. God knows what He’s doing. You are not at a disadvantage.

Michael Murray @michaelmurrayca 4 Jan

I only have one lung. God made humans with two lungs. I have one. How is that not a disadvantage??!! Do you or God even have an idea what getting through a humid day with one lung is like???

Joel Osteen @JoelOsteen 5 Jan

Don’t settle in the land of barely enough. Have an abundant mentality. Make room for God to show you His goodness in a new way.

Michael Murray @michaelmurrayca 5 Jan

Still angry about your last post, but it’s true, I’ve been living in the land of barely enough WAY too long. Also, God would want me to let your last post go, right?

Joel Osteen @JoelOsteen 6 Jan

You can’t think thoughts of lack and expect to have abundance. We serve a God of more than enough.

Michael Murray @michaelmurrayca 6 Jan

And Satan is like the tax department? You’re starting to confuse me, or a demon has seized me with the bafflement. Maybe both.

Joel Osteen @JoelOsteen 7 Jan

Good news: The right people are already in your future. It’s just a matter of time before they show up.

Michael Murray @michaelmurrayca 7 Jan

And they’re bringing the money, right? God and I need to be straight on this.