Author: Michael Murray

On Friday afternoon, Rachelle and I went to the Rideau Center to do some shopping. As I was sitting outside of Fancy Sox taking a break,  Randy Reid happened along. Randy and I, as some of you might know, went to the same high school together. It was here where Randy staggered about, breathing through…

Ever since Michael Jackson died, I’ve been wearing one glove as a tribute to the man and his music. It’s a subtle and appropriate thing to do, I think, a gentle reminder of the beauty that he left in this world. As I’m presently in Ottawa visiting my parents, I was wandering around the old…

Overhead fans are rotating at different speeds and a 65 year-old man, looking for friends, wanders from bar stool to stool. He’s holding a pint of beer and telling jokes that he memorized 40 years earlier. He puts a song on the jukebox and goes over a couple sitting at the bar. They’re both in…

In grade seven, every girl, every cool girl, I should say, sported the feathered hairstyle of Farrah Fawcett. Still, in spite of the fact that she was the most famous of Charlie’s Angels, the most noticeably American, she was probably the least favourite amongst my peers. The truth was that in spite of her obvious…

Last night, I watched a couple of the videos of Neda Soltan as she died in the streets of Tehran. They were very difficult to watch, and I found myself physically flinching as I tried to process the sights and sounds that were passing into me. In the video, the 26 year-old student of philosophy,…

On Sunday, Rachelle and I took the dog to Christie Pits to watch some baseball. Walking there, we passed by yard sales, church dances, lost dogs and millionaires. The walk took about half an hour, and when we got there, the first thing we did was buy some popsicles. We then proceeded to seek out…

The other night over dinner, Rachelle and I were having a serious conversation about a work related matter. Now, I’m a little bit older than Rachelle, and probably an awful lot smarter, accomplished, worldly and self-reliant than she’ll ever be, but I really don’t like to hang this over her head. I’m a good guy,…

Master is weak in the head. He think he sick with bugs because he played card with coughy two-leg the other night, but he smell not sick. He smell of fear, like all time, but no smell bug sick. When we go for walk he now make sigh sound and move slow, not pick-up my…

When I was at the Shouldice Clinic getting my hernia repaired, I didn’t just lie about moaning and begging for drugs. The doctors and nurses are a bunch of stingy hard-asses there, the type of morons who say crap like “pain is just your body’s way of telling you to use it!” Right. At any…