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Grok and Klingor were in a bit of a dilemma. They knew they couldn't go around trick or treating only to suck people into Klingor's sink. Besides it was a bit of a drain on Klingor's alien abilities. Then Grok, who had transformed himself into a bathtub piped up "Hey, I think we need to rethink our approach here." Truth be known if they had really rethought their approach they would have known just their real appearance - aliens from Gemini 7 - was scary enough. Nevertheless, Grok proposed they run downtown to the costume shop before it closed up for the night. So off they went, passing by little trick or treaters thinking to themselves "Hey, we'd better hurry before these little runts get all the chocolate and candies. If they do we'll have come all the way from Gemini 7 for nothing." Grog pulled out his Smart Phone and using his Google app found the address of the costume shop. Then using his Maps app he found the directions for it. T

Grok and Klingor were excited as they entered earth's atmosphere. It was just a matter of days before they would celebrate their annual Halloween pilgrimage. Nothing quite like it existed on Gemini 7 and they'd discovered it's existence some years ago quite by accident. Carved pumpkins, black cats, ghouls, witches and other decorations had caught their eye and as they sat back to take it all in giggled at the little shapes and forms of ghosts, Star Wars characters, Mini-Me's and other characters flitting from door to door in search of treats. Neither Grok nor Klingor could figure out why they demanded "trick or treat" when no one ever asked them to perform a trick. But, hey, it seemed an easy way to load up on candies and chocolate. Thus began a 15-year annual trek to earth for Halloween. This year, Grok and Klingor went to great lengths with their costumes. Grok decided to dress as a bath tub. It was really quite easy. All he had to do was think abo

As the sun set in the western sky He was reminded of years gone by When love filled his lonely heart And nothing could tear them apart. Long walks along the quay Holding hands along the way A kiss a hug as the sun went down A trace of the face with a doubting frown. She told him then that things looked bad The test results that the doctor had Discussed with her but he didn't accept What she told him - he wept. And as the days passed into weeks He wondered if he could seek A cure of sorts, a way out But the cancer's growth left no doubt. She told him their life together had been the best But now it was time for her to rest. She said their past was a bit of a haze But he should always remember their golden days. And now as he strolled the beach Alone with just his thoughts within reach He recalled those golden days gone by And, unsuccessfully, told himself he wouldn't cry The theme at Studio30 + this week is gol

I just finished reading a book by a friend and former colleague Ken Rockburn called We Are As The Times Are . The book's a delightful, entertaining and bang-on researched history of the Ottawa coffee house Le Hibou through it's various incarnations first as a walk-up on Rideau Street, followed by another walk-up on Bank Street and finally a walk-in, if you will, on Susses Drive. That's the same street the Prime Minister lives on but that's where the comparisons stop. Ken takes us through the various owners of Le Hibou and many of the artists that passed through its doors both as performers and paying patrons. The place started out as a showcase for local talent, largely of the folkie variety as well as poetry readings by among others Irving Layton.  It soon morphed into a blues haven showcasing such acts as Sonny Terry and Brownie McGhee, Muddy Waters, you name it. It's other mainstay was folk-rock and rock acts. Gordon Lightfoot, Neil Young, Tom Rush and Van

John loved having his grandkids stay over for the night. He'd developed a ritual whereby they enjoyed an apple juice and a chocolate chip cookie before brushing their teeth and climbing into bed. Once they'd climbed into bed and been tucked neatly under the covers John told them a story. A blend of stories from his own childhood. For example, he told them about the time when his babysitter, Mrs. Painter gave hime a quarter to take to the corner store and buy hamburger buns. On the way he had dropped the quarter down a pipe because he'd want to see if it would fit. After several quarters more he'd realized those quarters were all the same size. His grandkids had laughed at that one. He told therm about the time he'd gone to see the Toronto Maple Leafs play baseball. That's right, there was a time, a long time ago, when Toronto had a baseball team named the Maple Leafs. He was so inspired he tried out for the local baseball team as a pitcher. Unfortunately,

I read one book in September. Scratch that I read half a book. Wait, wait, wait. Before you think I took things easy let me tell you about the book. It'a called Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace. It's purported to be a modern-day classic. There was quite the buzz recently about Wallace as a movie about him was released, focusing on his life and suicide. It looked interesting. So I bought his Infinite Jest. It was promoted as possibly the last post-modern novel whatever that is...but it sounded good. As I waded my way through it I often time felt the jest was perhaps on me. A very difficult read. I'd put in about 2 hours a day and then put it down because I was so bloody confused by the narrative. The book weights in at over 1000 pages and while reading I Googled the title and learned hardly anybody finishes this damn book. I made it to about 52% through on my Kindle before throwing in the towel, or iPad if you will. And I did';t even look at the close to 400 endn