In the late afternoon when the shadows are long there are two instances of especial notice contrary to what we are accustomed when taking our predominantly morning bicycle rides. First, the declining afternoon sunlight switches its angle to the other side of the Mississippi River which dreamily wends its way through the centre of town directly past the Old Town Hall; and, second, the town is muted by the dark shadows of the lush and verdant summer foliage which everywhere distinguishes the town, specifically the dense cavern along the erstwhile B&O railway line (now a pedestrian and cyclist pathway).

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It was a very long time ago. Long ago at a time I seldom recall because the memories are so vague, like watching children play, or recalling a river’s clear and frozen ice before the snowfall, like the face or name of your first classmates. When small birds fell from their colony nests from high above. When through fields I chased the horizon with my companion dog Sheen at my side; she always behaved so well. Perhaps it was when I was 11 or 12 years of age. Before I knew that silk scarves were comfortable against the winter wind. Before I understood the physical bluntness of agriculture and livestock.  It was when I first saw the appeal of symmetry and substance.

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Though I haven’t a clue what sarsaparilla is, it nonetheless invokes the same brightening tonic in my mind as does the sudden advent of brisk September weather and dry azure skies. Such is the weather today, invigorating from the outset, refreshing and exuberant.

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TikTok is not an internet phenomenon I would recommend. Its notoriously juvenile reputation is well-founded. Apart from what is preposterously entertaining (everything from exploding beverages to prolonged swan dives from mountainous precipices) there is a good deal of what captures youthful narcissism and plainly lascivious piety. Among those extensions are navigations to websites for Low Cost Dental Implants.

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Every year at about this time we take our bikes to Bill Barrie Jr of Almonte Bicycle Works for their annual reconditioning and any needed repair. As I said to Bill upon collecting my bike early this afternoon the bike looks better than the day I bought it (which frankly was a good number of years ago – I’m guessing ten at least if not indeed considerably more). Bill takes very good care of us and our bikes. He is a trusted friend and cycle specialist.

Almonte Bicycle Works

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When my predecessor the late Raymond A. Jamieson QC lay ill in his hospital bed at 96 years of age and I told him in response to his question “What’s the news?” that funeral director John H. Kerry was building a chapel attached to his funeral home, Raymond replied with a glint in his eye (the only one he had), “I’m looking forward to going there!” And in case you’re wondering, Raymond lost one of his eyes as a child at age 13 on the 13th day of the month while playing with some toy. It was a fortuity which subsequently inspired him to wantonly dispose of any $1 bill he happened to have in his pocket in addition to $12. It was the only suspicion I knew him to counsel.

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I got a haircut today.  Better I should have said to the stylist, “Do what you can to fix this!” I’m never overly optimistic about the success of my haircuts. After decades of getting haircuts I have learned the truth of the diminishing quip, “The only difference between a good haircut and a bad haircut is two days.”  And that further remark about having a “bad hair day”. It’s as reliable as the opposite, a so-called “good hair day”. Which no one ever bothers to mention – those occasions when one seems inexplicably at peace with one’s morning image in the mirror after a shower and straightening oneself to begin a new day.

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In the summer of 1976 I began practicing law in the Town of Almonte with Messrs. Galligan and Sheffield Barrs &c. I was the new guy on the block. It was about that time I first met Cindy Edmonds, then a young legal assistant at the office of Paul D. Courtice LLB in nearby Town of Carleton Place. Cindy and a number of other legal types (lawyers and legal assistants) had invited me to join them for a beer and munchies at a popular pub overlooking the Mississippi River. Though my memory is not perfectly clear, my recollection of the entire congregation is predominantly Cindy’s captivating sense of humour (something which to this day she has thankfully never abandoned). It would however require a year or two before I became acquainted with Cindy’s more celebrated stamp as an expert legal assistant.

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The idiom how’s it going is another way to say how are you, how are things progressing, or what’s up. The it can refer to life in general, a project, or your day.

It should be noted that this idiom is said in many countries with the answer expected to be fine or good. This is not usually what a person says when he or she truly wants details of your life or day. Often this is said as a continuation of the greeting (e.g., Hi, how’s it going?), and the return answer should also be a continuation (e.g., Good, see you later.)

If the speaker wants further details, he or she will ask again or make it understood by intonation or facial expressions.

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Whether John Rambo, Marlon Brandon, Robert De Niro,  Leonardo DiCaprio, Al Pacino, Enrico Caruso or Michelangelo, they are all artists who, by the exposition of their extraordinary talent, entertain and uplift our daily repetitive and predominantly unglamorous lives. Humanity, I am afraid to say, when scrutinized from anything but the most abstract astronomical distance, is generally mildly unsettling and rough going, the live birth from the womb, explosions of elemental ingredients during adolescence, development of uncomfortable bearings, attitudes and ticks during seniority and finally the incremental and irreversible decomposition of old age. In short, not a pretty picture overall from beginning to end.  But art changes all that, art in the thespian variant, art hanging on the walls or rendered in sculpture, photography, music, poetry, furnishings, rugs and clocks, glasswork, crystal, ceramic, porcelain and brass, jewellery, weaving, even handmade or plastic flowers.

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