Get this - for the past year, I've been getting emails addressed to someone with a similar name to mine (it seems she must have transposed some letters in the address that she gives to people). It was one thing to get her Chapters emails and stuff but last week, her nephew emailed me, to wish his aunt a 'happy holidays'-type greeting. I did like I always do and replied that this was not her email and perhaps he should contact her to get the real one. A few quick back and forths and somehow this innocent bit of helpfulness has turned into this nephew wanting to meet me...and this is the funny part (and I quote) "maybe we are supposed to meet and solve all the worlds problems". I mean, WTF?!? I can't find my way out of my own backyard, dude! Gandhi I ain't. Whatever happened to good old fashioned cynicism and surliness, eh?
Had a interesting client meeting yesterday, watching a lovely storm build up throughout the afternoon and trying to stay focused. I decided that it wouldn't be worth the drive back home in traffic and instead, had some chai with Super-P, the Son of Wonder. I saw him bobbing down the street, his blond Brian Jones haircut standing out in a sea of toques and frowns. I felt my soul light up when I saw his smile.
I know all of us moms say this but he's is a remarkable man... even if I did give birth to him. How I got so lucky to have a kid (or 2) whom I actually enjoy talking to, I'll never know. His tour is looking good for spring 2008 so I can see a few road trips for Pa and me- Halifax, Boston and maybe Baltimore, if I can swing it - up ahead. A chapter in Punk Ottawa history will be ending soon with the closure of the much-loved Argyle House, scene of many an FC show and mucho debauchery. Seamus, Pat C and the ever-elusive Kyle Kyle Super Goth made appearances throughout our conversation and I was reminded of when these tall men were little punks, ditching their bikes in my flower bed so that they could hit their first shows at the Legion. Yup, back then Adam and Brock were playing ska and old school punk, not the mellow folk stuff flying off of their strings these days. Where does the time go, eh? As for myself, I'm old as dirt and half as smart