Month: October 2014

summertime memories

Frilly dresses and rose petals

and soft hair

with plastic butterfly buckles;

she was always so positive

and happy.

Nobody could hurt her

she never shed a tear;

even when her parents abused her.

Her spirit was strong

she was picked on

because she was different

and because

she smelled like summertime;

and that’s why I loved her.

Years passed,

we grew older

and went separate ways.

A lover left her with

two daughters to raise.

She did it on her own,

independent and strong,

they moved on,

and then she broke down

and cried








everthing old is new again…sigh

Ever reminisce about the old days and wish everything was that way again? The candy we enjoyed as kids, the games we played, and how about the music we listened to? Sometimes things are better left to memory.

I felt that way about four of my favorite musicians from my younger years. Back then, my four favorites were Bryan Adams, John (Cougar sometimes) Mellencamp, Tom Petty, and of course my all time favourite, Bob Seger.

When I seen that all four of my favorites planned on releasing new albums for 2014, I was elated. Couldn’t wait to get them. The minute they were released, I bought them. Big Mistake!

Years (and all the cigarettes) were not kind to Mellencamp’s voice. His voice, although always gravely, now sounds as if he gargled with nails prior to recording the album. That is not to say that the songs weren’t great, but I couldn’t get past the raspy voice. It almost hurt to listen.

Speaking of gravel, Bryan Adams released a new album as well….of all things, a cover album. Six years after his last album, entitled ’11’, he releases a cover album. Don’t get me wrong, the man can still sing, and for Bryan, the gravel works well, but the song choices??? Country songs?

I have always been a country fan, but I was a rock fan as well. Those two worlds don’t (or shouldn’t) collide well. It was just wrong to hear Adams belt out Kristofferson’s ”Help Me Make it Through the Night’ and even worse, his rendition of Don Gibson’s ‘I Can’t Stop Loving You’. Adams did a great job on those songs, but it seems to me that there were already enough covers of those songs that my favorite Canadian ROCKER didn’t need to be doing them. I wish he could have released an album of original ROCK songs.

Another artist who chose to go country as of late is Bob Seger. My absolute favourite artist throughout the 70’s and 80’s, Seger released an album that is a mix between country and blues, and for me, it just doesn’t make it.

Steve Earle’s ‘Devil’s Right Hand’ was the biggest disappointment on the entire album. Seger simply cannot hit the notes that the songwriter did in his own release of the song. Instead of showcasing the fine singer’s voice, the song shows the age of the artist. The rest of the songs on the album just didn’t cut it for me. Very disappointed in this one and a waste of my money.

Finally, Tom Petty. What can I say? I hated the entire thing. Maybe I am being a bit too critical, but when fine artists try to fit the cookie cutter world of radio, it is just darn disappointing.

On the way to work today, I loaded my favorite albums of yesteryear. ‘Reckless’, ‘Uh Huh’, Full Moon Fever’ and ‘Beautiful Loser’. Now THAT was music!

Friday Fictioneers: Exercise Regime

PHOTO PROMPT – Copyright – Douglas M. MacIlroy
PHOTO PROMPT – Copyright – Douglas M. MacIlroy

As he packed up his favorite things, a tear ran down his face.

He sat for a minute and reminisced. The days out on the lake, the evenings on the deck, the time spent with friends, all gone now. To think that all his misery began after his wife suggested he enroll in a yoga program. “Get back in shape so we can do the fun things again.” she said.

He got with the program, and enjoyed it quite a bit.

How did she find out that instead of just ‘doing Yoga’, he ended up ‘doin the Yoga Teacher’?


This little glimpse of the life of a very foolish man is my entry into Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ Friday Fictioneers post. Why not check out the prompt and give it a try for yourself? Lots of fun!!!






Imagine if they changed Facebook to Factbook. I wonder how many people would still want to be a member?

Facebook has changed the face (no pun intended) of the Internet, and of privacy standards. Imagine if you went for a job interview and the employer asked you the following questions:

  1. What is your first and last name?
  2. When were you born?
  3. Are you in a relationship?
  4. How many times in one week do you drink, and can you provide pictures?
  5. Do you have any half naked photos to share?
  6. What is your cell number?
  7. What is your email address?
  8. What sort of friends do you keep?
  9. On what hours will you be home, or gone?

If you would be appalled at those questions, just take a look at a typical Facebook page. Most people share their most intimate and private moments on Facebook.

What some people fail to realize is how many times Facebook is used against them. These days, employers constantly check out a person’s Facebook profile, looking for warning signs such as public drunkenness, lewdness, and most of all, who a person chooses to acquaint themselves with.

Insurance companies have saved thousands of dollars by checking out people’s profiles. I know of one occasion where a person made an insurance claim because he was in an accident at work. He claimed that he could no longer walk and needed the use of crutches to get around. What the insurance adjuster found on that person’s Facebook page was a very recent video of that person dancing on a table in a bar. Prior to seeing that video, the insurance company was ready to award that person the entire $300,000 he had requested. After the video, not only did the guy not receive any money, he was also charged with fraud.

Really dumb people also set themselves up for robberies and abuse. How many times do I see people’s status messages state things such as ‘gone for the weekend’ or ‘home alone tonight’. Might as well say ‘come rob me’ or ‘free sex here this evening’. Perhaps the dumbest thing I ever seen on Facebook was a message for an older couple’s son. “We are gone for the weekend, the key is in the mailbox’. Talk about setting yourself up to be robbed! DUH!


Flash Fiction: Crime doesn’t pay

Copyright-Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Bud and Moe were the worst of thieves. Bud recently got word that a ‘friend’ was looking for computer equipment.

Later that day, Bud told Moe about the plan. Moe was to break into a local high school and steal several desktop computers and their accessories. That evening, Moe made a clean getaway and presented his loot to Bud.

“You bumbling idiot! You forgot the keyboards!” Bud yelled.

“No I didn’t, they are in the next room” said Moe, proudly.

Looking in the room, Bud’s response was to be expected.


This is my entry into this Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ Friday Fictioneers.

Morning people


My wife doesn’t understand me. She can’t understand how I can wake up five minutes before the alarm rings in the morning (6:30 a.m.) and hop out of the bed and get ready and eat and drive 45 minutes across a highway filled with moose and even worse moose hunters and still be early for work. See how much energy I have? Not even a comma in that splurge of words.

She really cannot understand how on Saturday mornings and Sunday mornings and on holidays how I can be up at 6:30 a.m. and have breakfast cooked and be wide awake before she is even thinking of waking up.

I explain to her that I am a morning person.

Morning people have all this energy early in the morning and it bothers the hell out of non morning people. I literally bounce off the walls with just five or so hours of healthy sleep. Any more is a waste of a day! I know, annoying, huh?

Morning people have a difficult time understanding non morning people. Get out of bed and stop wasting the day away! I could say that, but I do enjoy being married…and living…



When I was a kid, my heroes ranged from Superman and Batman to the Lone Ranger and Tonto. Every Sunday morning after Church, my dad would allow me to go to the local convenience store and pick out a few of the latest comics. I remember how excited I was to get home and read about all the superheroes and how they managed to save the world with their special powers.

Now that I am grown up (well, at least I believe I have grown, my wife might have something else to add) my heroes are a little different. Growing up, I realized that a man doesn’t have to don a red cape and fly just to save the day. I learned that a woman doesn’t have to come from the Amazon to get anywhere in life. Most of all, I learned that heroes don’t live in Bat Caves, Fortress of Solitude, or other hidden locations. My heroes are right here.

When I was a kid, I saw my dad come home from work, his hands bloodied and the skin torn. I seen him wake up at 5 in the morning and come home beat out and tired, and still manage to be there for me when I needed him. At the time, I didn’t see this as being a hero, but he was, and he still is.

My dad, despite being undereducated, was never a lazy man. Education in my dad’s day was a privilege that he was not allowed. In fact, education in his time was set aside for the rich. My dad was never rich. So he used what he was given in his lifetime. Two strong hands and an even stronger work ethic.

Most of the jobs my dad worked were manual labor. Hands on handle of a wheelbarrow brought blisters that bled, but he never complained. His favorite job was that of a janitor position that he had won. When he interviewed for the job, his resume was sparse. A few jobs such as cab driver and logger, he was almost ashamed to enter the room and hand the thing in. When the employer seen that my dad worked the jobs he did, my dad got the job. The employer told my dad that he was looking for an honest, hard worker. He said that my dad’s work experience showed that he was that person. I believe dad worked there for about five years, and only left because the company that ran the building set up shop elsewhere.

So my dad went into the woods and worked as a logger. He worked so hard that we hardly seen him. He would come home at night and head for the bed. By the time I woke up in the morning, he was already half way through his day. He still never complained. In fact, every day he thanked the blessed Lord for giving him the strength to work this job.

Underpaid and unrewarded, my dad worked for pennies. The contractor who ran the operation decided that rather than have the men drive back and forth every day, they would have to stay in a logging camp for the entire week. That way, the greedy bastard could work the men even harder. In a time where work wasn’t plentiful in the province, those cut-throat employers knew how to manipulate the fine Newfoundland men who worked for them. My dad tried the camp thing, but quit after one week.

I still recall the day he came home, his chainsaw swung over one shoulder, his knapsack on the other, and his head down. He felt as if he failed his family by quitting. Mom said that it was about time. The work was so hard that my dad had himself nearly starved to death. I still hear mom saying that we would be better off on welfare than seeing my dad work himself to death.

Welfare wasn’t something my dad was proud of, and it wasn’t something that he seen as a way out. With that, my uncle had just started a logging contract with a local papermill, and my dad was the first person he called.

Dad worked for his younger brother until the day he retired. When I turned sixteen, I expressed to my dad that I wanted to be just like him and become a logger. I remember my dad crying.

To this day I will never forget what he told me. He said that I was much better than this line of work, and that I should use my God given talents and become something that I want to do. He didn’t want me working my fingers to the bone and bringing home measly pay checks, barely enough to get by. When I told him that I wanted to try this, and later do something else, he still disagreed. I worked alongside my dad for the next twenty years.

For a glimpse of a typical work day, you can check out an old post of mine, in which I take readers back some fifteen years, into the tall brush and hardy forest of Western Newfoundland. Hope you like it. click this link

My dad is still as busy as ever. At 77 years of age, he and my mom spend fall mornings in the woods, cutting firewood and hauling them to the woodshed to provide heat for one another. After 51 years of marriage, they still do everything together, hand in hand, heart in heart. My heroes.