Beth Kaplan's Blog, page 173
May 6, 2016
arguing about Trump and Bernie
Lungs! Yes, they're a bit battered and squishy, but they're there! Legs, arms, all are returning to life. Thrilling. I thank you god for most this amazing day. It's beautiful out there, and at last, I am able to appreciate it. I bought a big pot of flowers for the garden. Life stirs.
Yes, one of my neighbours has young adult children who are having a very loud party in the yard right now. But that's okay, I like hearing young people having a good time, even if the language is pretty blue - they only seem to know one word. Though the long battle over the power lines continued, on and on and on, today, scores of frantic emails zipping back and forth - issues are at last being resolved. Finally, I did what I should have done months ago and asked my neighbour to come in for a talk. She did. We talked. We discussed what was going on, we resolved the problems; adversaries at first, we parted as friends.
Onward.
Bruce just sent me a clip of Trump talking about hairspray that made me want to throw up. A friend yesterday posted a joyful proclamation that the success of the outliers, the non-establishment rebels Trump and his own beloved Bernie Sanders is a triumph of democracy and the little people. This is what I wrote back:
I disagree with a great deal in your current post, but that’s what friends are for. I loathe Trump and everything he stands for and yes, it does upset me that you would use that word for Hillary. I think there is a great deal to Sanders, a whole other negative side, that his supporters are not admitting.
I do not see the rise of Trump as a plus for democracy, I see it as a horrifying surge of disaffected, angry people who want more and better and don’t understand why they’re not getting it. We’ve been through this with Ford. They want to blame someone, anyone, immigrants, especially Muslims, and certainly and most of all government, that’s the culprit. Good sense, logic, truth, fact has no place in their discourse, only racism, sexism, misogyny, horrifying mindless torrents of abuse - including homophobia. Absolutely terrifying, reminiscent of Nazi Germany. I am amazed that you can see the positive side of it. Good for you.
Further to the point, here's a terrific article for any of you who are still uncertain on the issue of Bernie versus Hillary. All our fates depend on American voters seeing sense. .https://medium.com/@Boo_Radley/dear-bernie-thanks-but-im-done-6c6bc6e23993#.4bv4to7te
Called Auntie Do, now 96, who is taking her 32-year old Toyota to be serviced this week. She will be on the road soon. Ottawa, you have been warned.
The joy is that, with my health returning, I can care about the world again. And I do.
Yes, one of my neighbours has young adult children who are having a very loud party in the yard right now. But that's okay, I like hearing young people having a good time, even if the language is pretty blue - they only seem to know one word. Though the long battle over the power lines continued, on and on and on, today, scores of frantic emails zipping back and forth - issues are at last being resolved. Finally, I did what I should have done months ago and asked my neighbour to come in for a talk. She did. We talked. We discussed what was going on, we resolved the problems; adversaries at first, we parted as friends.
Onward.
Bruce just sent me a clip of Trump talking about hairspray that made me want to throw up. A friend yesterday posted a joyful proclamation that the success of the outliers, the non-establishment rebels Trump and his own beloved Bernie Sanders is a triumph of democracy and the little people. This is what I wrote back:
I disagree with a great deal in your current post, but that’s what friends are for. I loathe Trump and everything he stands for and yes, it does upset me that you would use that word for Hillary. I think there is a great deal to Sanders, a whole other negative side, that his supporters are not admitting.
I do not see the rise of Trump as a plus for democracy, I see it as a horrifying surge of disaffected, angry people who want more and better and don’t understand why they’re not getting it. We’ve been through this with Ford. They want to blame someone, anyone, immigrants, especially Muslims, and certainly and most of all government, that’s the culprit. Good sense, logic, truth, fact has no place in their discourse, only racism, sexism, misogyny, horrifying mindless torrents of abuse - including homophobia. Absolutely terrifying, reminiscent of Nazi Germany. I am amazed that you can see the positive side of it. Good for you.
Further to the point, here's a terrific article for any of you who are still uncertain on the issue of Bernie versus Hillary. All our fates depend on American voters seeing sense. .https://medium.com/@Boo_Radley/dear-bernie-thanks-but-im-done-6c6bc6e23993#.4bv4to7te
Called Auntie Do, now 96, who is taking her 32-year old Toyota to be serviced this week. She will be on the road soon. Ottawa, you have been warned.
The joy is that, with my health returning, I can care about the world again. And I do.
May 5, 2016
A sign for Macca
Several people have asked what my sign in Vancouver actually said to Paul. It took me a long time to come up with the wording, many drafts. I tried things like "You saved my life in Paris. Story in my book," and "We met in Paris June 1965. I was in the blue dress. Remember?"
Lame. I'm a writer, I said to myself. Come on! How to entice him with only a few words on a bristol board sign?
It came to me at 4 a.m. one morning, and luckily, when I got up, I remembered and wrote it down. At the concert, I saw him read it. His face didn't change; he did not smile. He spoke in Japanese to the two women in kimonos sitting right next to me, screaming "Pauw! Pauw!" in very high voices. And that was that. I wondered if perhaps my wording reminded him too much of his age. Or perhaps the people in the Sgt. Pepper's costumes had already been chosen.
Oh well. My sign did not do its job, but I don't care - I had done mine.
I may deeply regret not getting a ticket to the Hamilton concert in July. But if I'd gone, there'd have been no sign. Just love.
Lame. I'm a writer, I said to myself. Come on! How to entice him with only a few words on a bristol board sign?
It came to me at 4 a.m. one morning, and luckily, when I got up, I remembered and wrote it down. At the concert, I saw him read it. His face didn't change; he did not smile. He spoke in Japanese to the two women in kimonos sitting right next to me, screaming "Pauw! Pauw!" in very high voices. And that was that. I wondered if perhaps my wording reminded him too much of his age. Or perhaps the people in the Sgt. Pepper's costumes had already been chosen.
Oh well. My sign did not do its job, but I don't care - I had done mine.
I may deeply regret not getting a ticket to the Hamilton concert in July. But if I'd gone, there'd have been no sign. Just love.
Beth meets a nice guy with strangely big eyes
Writers, here's an example of how poor grammar can undercut a sentence full of important news: I just received an email from Cycle Toronto, a bike advocacy organization I belong to, that after years of hard work, they'd managed to get the city to approve the Bloor Street bike lane project. Great news. But this is what they wrote:
Today, after years of advocacy, Toronto City Council approved pilot bike lanes on Bloor St. The approval marks a key victory in the development of Toronto’s cycling network, bringing us closer to safe streets and a healthy city for all. We expect the Bloor pilot lanes to be installed in late summer.
Because of a misplaced modifier, the sentence read as if Toronto City Council has put in years of advocacy. The clause at the beginning, about advocacy, is attached to the subject of the sentence, City Council. So Cycle Toronto, which has advocated non-stop for years, has just, in one sentence, handed credit for the victory to Council, which dragged its heels and did little to help until yesterday.
Grammar, people! Okay, I know, I sound like a little old lady with a ruler. Well sometimes I am.
And don't get me started on the Republican nominee for President of the United States, who can barely speak English. A whole new definition of the word 'loathsome', which I used to reserve exclusively for our former premier, Mike Harris. Mike, meet Don. Soulmates. If either of you has a soul. Which I doubt.
I'm still in bed and crabby - as you can hear - but definitely, there's hope. I will get out soon and put one tentative toe into my daily life. Hooray. May even venture out - to Shopper's Drugs, my new favourite place on earth.
At Banff, a talented young photographer called David Whyte took head shots of some of the writers. Here's my favourite of me, with a cute guy I met there. Oh, why are all the good men taken or gay?
Perhaps you can't see, speaking of all the good men, but I'm wearing my fave Macca t-shirt. Sigh.
Today, after years of advocacy, Toronto City Council approved pilot bike lanes on Bloor St. The approval marks a key victory in the development of Toronto’s cycling network, bringing us closer to safe streets and a healthy city for all. We expect the Bloor pilot lanes to be installed in late summer.
Because of a misplaced modifier, the sentence read as if Toronto City Council has put in years of advocacy. The clause at the beginning, about advocacy, is attached to the subject of the sentence, City Council. So Cycle Toronto, which has advocated non-stop for years, has just, in one sentence, handed credit for the victory to Council, which dragged its heels and did little to help until yesterday.
Grammar, people! Okay, I know, I sound like a little old lady with a ruler. Well sometimes I am.
And don't get me started on the Republican nominee for President of the United States, who can barely speak English. A whole new definition of the word 'loathsome', which I used to reserve exclusively for our former premier, Mike Harris. Mike, meet Don. Soulmates. If either of you has a soul. Which I doubt.
I'm still in bed and crabby - as you can hear - but definitely, there's hope. I will get out soon and put one tentative toe into my daily life. Hooray. May even venture out - to Shopper's Drugs, my new favourite place on earth.
At Banff, a talented young photographer called David Whyte took head shots of some of the writers. Here's my favourite of me, with a cute guy I met there. Oh, why are all the good men taken or gay?
Perhaps you can't see, speaking of all the good men, but I'm wearing my fave Macca t-shirt. Sigh.
May 4, 2016
fury today
Marginally better but not by much. Talked to my nice doctor - a flu virus, she said. Okay, got that.
More battles locally with neighbours who are determined to make the job of burying the hideous power lines that run through our backyards - especially prominent, if I may delicately point this out, in MY backyard - as difficult as possible. The work was delayed again today by a woman screaming about damaging the roots of the tree - one of the biggest trees in Toronto - in her yard and killing it, as if Bell is in the habit of carelessly slicing through the roots of vast trees as it buries lines. Oops! Oh well, no problem, there's another tree over there.
I'm amazed the companies are putting up with all this hooha; it's not costing us homeowners a cent, and this is the THIRD time work has been delayed. But there they were, six very nice Bell and Rogers people standing around my yard, still trying to make plans.
Next week, the work will go ahead. If no other lunatics appear. Don't hold your breath. Hell, as JP Sartre so wisely pointed out, is other people. Can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em.
And then I went online to check the Ryerson website to try to figure out why the registration for my course is so low - it has not been this low for at least a decade. I entered Chang School spring 2016 to check the courses, scrolled down to "Writing" - and my course was not there. All the others were, but not mine. Eventually I saw why - my course is not listed with everyone else's under W for writing, it's all by itself under A for Autobiographical Writing. Why of course! If I were looking for a memoir writing course, naturally I would look under A.
Jesus. I had a few furious moments, and my lungs already hurt.
Nothing to be done - at least, until it can be fixed next term. The class is very small, and it's wonderful; I love them all already and we'll have a great time. So moving right along, to the next freakout horror show which I can't bear to think about - and this one means the end of the world.
More battles locally with neighbours who are determined to make the job of burying the hideous power lines that run through our backyards - especially prominent, if I may delicately point this out, in MY backyard - as difficult as possible. The work was delayed again today by a woman screaming about damaging the roots of the tree - one of the biggest trees in Toronto - in her yard and killing it, as if Bell is in the habit of carelessly slicing through the roots of vast trees as it buries lines. Oops! Oh well, no problem, there's another tree over there.
I'm amazed the companies are putting up with all this hooha; it's not costing us homeowners a cent, and this is the THIRD time work has been delayed. But there they were, six very nice Bell and Rogers people standing around my yard, still trying to make plans.
Next week, the work will go ahead. If no other lunatics appear. Don't hold your breath. Hell, as JP Sartre so wisely pointed out, is other people. Can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em.
And then I went online to check the Ryerson website to try to figure out why the registration for my course is so low - it has not been this low for at least a decade. I entered Chang School spring 2016 to check the courses, scrolled down to "Writing" - and my course was not there. All the others were, but not mine. Eventually I saw why - my course is not listed with everyone else's under W for writing, it's all by itself under A for Autobiographical Writing. Why of course! If I were looking for a memoir writing course, naturally I would look under A.
Jesus. I had a few furious moments, and my lungs already hurt.
Nothing to be done - at least, until it can be fixed next term. The class is very small, and it's wonderful; I love them all already and we'll have a great time. So moving right along, to the next freakout horror show which I can't bear to think about - and this one means the end of the world.
May 3, 2016
birthday and Woodstock 2016
First class over - U of T, a fabulous group. Now I can go to bed. I actually bought a thermometer on the way there and took my temperature. Normal. The druggist was coughing and said she'd had the same thing. So no, I am not dying of tuberculosis, nothing romantic like that.
Two joys: 1. It's my daughter's 35th birthday today. 35 years ago I became a mother. Thank you, powers that be, for that greatest of joys. This is what her brother posted on FB, of the two of them with Eli at a family wedding:
And then he wrote this: My ( Much) Older sister Anna turns one year older today. I don't know a stronger woman or better friend. I love you Anna I don't care what Lana says about you, you're great.
And here's Anna's birthday party, at the playground - where else? - with Lana, her best friend, beside her, and a child or two, some of whom might be hers:
Lani wrote: Lani Ashenhurst Lookit your team! Thanks for making this world more wonderful for 33 years (there were a couple of years there when you were driving your mother nuts so we have to subtract them from your age). I love and admire you.
Yes it's true, and more than a couple. But let's not go there, days long gone. Happy Birthday, my beloved daughter. Sorry I couldn't be there.
And 2. - oh my. It's called Desert Trip. Too bad I'm too old for this and it's on the other side of the continent and in the fall when I'm working. Can you IMAGINE? What a gathering! Historic.
Sigh.
Two joys: 1. It's my daughter's 35th birthday today. 35 years ago I became a mother. Thank you, powers that be, for that greatest of joys. This is what her brother posted on FB, of the two of them with Eli at a family wedding:
And then he wrote this: My ( Much) Older sister Anna turns one year older today. I don't know a stronger woman or better friend. I love you Anna I don't care what Lana says about you, you're great.And here's Anna's birthday party, at the playground - where else? - with Lana, her best friend, beside her, and a child or two, some of whom might be hers:
Lani wrote: Lani Ashenhurst Lookit your team! Thanks for making this world more wonderful for 33 years (there were a couple of years there when you were driving your mother nuts so we have to subtract them from your age). I love and admire you.Yes it's true, and more than a couple. But let's not go there, days long gone. Happy Birthday, my beloved daughter. Sorry I couldn't be there.
And 2. - oh my. It's called Desert Trip. Too bad I'm too old for this and it's on the other side of the continent and in the fall when I'm working. Can you IMAGINE? What a gathering! Historic.
Sigh.
kind notes
That does it, I've left a message for my doctor. It's such a lovely day, and I'm in bed. Something must be done - maybe this is more than flu. Of course, whenever I finally call the doctor, by the time I see her I'm well again. Usually. So let's hope this happens now. I teach tonight and realize this is not like having to go onstage when ill; I can just explain that I am not quite my bouncy self and do my best, can't do that when in a show. As always, adrenaline will carry me through tonight and tomorrow and Thursday night too.
In the meantime, I'm busy editing five So True essays and my memoir before getting it printed for the first time, exciting. And people are cheering me up with lovely notes about past work. This from a former student:
Just finished All My Loving. What a lovely, fun read! It took me back to my own Beatlemania days and to the experience of being fourteen. The way one's emotional life can be based almost completely on fantasy (maybe not just at fourteen). Many thanks!
"Lovely fun read" sounds great to me, thank you! And this from an old friend in Ottawa about my very first book, a compilation of essays from CBC radio and Facts and Arguments in the Globe, hence the title:
I recently picked up my signed copy of Back Page Stories which you gave me years ago. Now that spring has arrived and I wake up earlier and earlier, I wanted you to know that re-reading one short piece a day is as much a springtime ritual as opening the back door and listening to the peepers and chickadees before sunrise. Your writing is still very moving, given that we all have similar heart-warming experiences in our lives, and your social commentary is as relevant today as it was then. I've now discovered your blog and a few more good reads, I'm sure.
I hope so too - that more good reads are in store, as soon as I stop whining about my lungs. Spring is definitely here, and I want to roll in the grass like a happy dog. Soon.
In the meantime, I'm busy editing five So True essays and my memoir before getting it printed for the first time, exciting. And people are cheering me up with lovely notes about past work. This from a former student:
Just finished All My Loving. What a lovely, fun read! It took me back to my own Beatlemania days and to the experience of being fourteen. The way one's emotional life can be based almost completely on fantasy (maybe not just at fourteen). Many thanks!
"Lovely fun read" sounds great to me, thank you! And this from an old friend in Ottawa about my very first book, a compilation of essays from CBC radio and Facts and Arguments in the Globe, hence the title:
I recently picked up my signed copy of Back Page Stories which you gave me years ago. Now that spring has arrived and I wake up earlier and earlier, I wanted you to know that re-reading one short piece a day is as much a springtime ritual as opening the back door and listening to the peepers and chickadees before sunrise. Your writing is still very moving, given that we all have similar heart-warming experiences in our lives, and your social commentary is as relevant today as it was then. I've now discovered your blog and a few more good reads, I'm sure.
I hope so too - that more good reads are in store, as soon as I stop whining about my lungs. Spring is definitely here, and I want to roll in the grass like a happy dog. Soon.
May 2, 2016
daffodils
It's a stunning day, at last, and I feel almost human. Not quite but getting there, after three healing events today: the sunshine; an hour in the garden encouraging the tiny green things - really? you can hear them gasp - it's really over and we can come out now?
And a visit from my son. If anything can cheer me up, it's that big lug. So moving right along. Onward. Go away, whatever bug you are, and come again another day aka never.
The first bouquet from the garden - and the birdhouse Eli painted for me for Xmas. I just put the Provencal tablecloth on the deck table, on the assumption that it's not going to get snowed on. I know - ha ha, this is Canada and it's only May 2! But there's hope. There is most definitely hope.
And a visit from my son. If anything can cheer me up, it's that big lug. So moving right along. Onward. Go away, whatever bug you are, and come again another day aka never.
The first bouquet from the garden - and the birdhouse Eli painted for me for Xmas. I just put the Provencal tablecloth on the deck table, on the assumption that it's not going to get snowed on. I know - ha ha, this is Canada and it's only May 2! But there's hope. There is most definitely hope.
Beth's Ryerson class starts Wednesday
Writers and students, please send out the word to your creative friends - or even consider for yourself: my class at Ryerson is small; more writing students are welcome. It starts Wednesday evening at 6.30. Usually my classes are full by now, no idea why registration is low this term - the low dollar? The weather? My reputation for making people cry?
Only kidding. Just received this from a student in last term's Ryerson class:
Many thanks for the class this winter. It was such a pleasure, and much more than that. I so much appreciated the chance to write. You have a gift for creating a community that is inviting yet not overwhelming. Hope the spring class is going well.
Thank you for your kind words. The spring class will be going well soon.
Come join us.
Only kidding. Just received this from a student in last term's Ryerson class:
Many thanks for the class this winter. It was such a pleasure, and much more than that. I so much appreciated the chance to write. You have a gift for creating a community that is inviting yet not overwhelming. Hope the spring class is going well.
Thank you for your kind words. The spring class will be going well soon.
Come join us.
May 1, 2016
Koneline: our land beautiful, Hot Docs must see
This morning, looking at the chilly drizzle and still feeling horrible, I almost cancelled today's engagement, to see my friend Nettie Wild's documentary "Koneline" at Hot Docs. But wanted so much to see it that I took some Tylenol and got dressed; Annie picked me up in her yellow Prius and off we went. So so so glad we did!
It's one of the most beautiful and powerful films I've ever seen. I urge you not to miss it. It's on only once more, but I'm sure will win many awards and come back for a commercial run. It made me understand as never before the north, the landscape, the difficulties and joys of life there, the resilience of the people, their bond with the land and their ancestors and their struggles - even the different sides of development, how the incursion of mines and power lines is not black and white, though perhaps in any case it's too late to fight them. Or perhaps not. Most of the First Nations elders, in the riveting blockade scenes, are women. Nettie follows a woman who owns a hunting operation with a dozen horses, up into the mountains. We watch the Tahltan people live their lives and intuit what will happen as the mine moves in. It's unforgettable.
As one elder woman says, How would I explain the wilderness? It's our life.
What's heartbreakingly clear is this: once this magnificent wilderness is gone, it's gone forever. We will never get it back. We're selling our souls for today, but what about tomorrow? The fate of the land, not just for now but for the ages - that's the sacred legacy the elders carry. And yet they need to survive, and the world moves relentlessly on.
This is the email I just sent:
Nettie, your film is stunning. My friend Annie who was there with me works with the Jesuit Forum on third world development, and she was knocked over - she is working on mining issues in the Honduras, the same story. You capture all the complexities, the tragedy, the glorious, incredible beauty and history of the land. How in the name of God you got some of those shots - the pack horses, the salmon rescue, the moose hunt - unforgettable. Not to mention the intimate shots inside homes, inside the pub, the trucks - I was in awe and in tears. Obviously they all trusted you completely, including the line workers and miners - the mark of a true master of documentary.
I was just at the Creative Non-fiction Collective’s conference in Banff, and Wade Davis spoke, incredibly movingly, about his new book, "The Sacred Headwaters" - just about this, the Red Chris mine, the new power line, the Tahltan nation. And there I was, inside that world in your beautiful film. It should be nominated for a Documentary Oscar.
It’s not polemical but at the same time, we get it, what will happen to this land and these people when the land is split wide open. We get everything.
It’s a work of art. I congratulate you from the bottom of my heart.
Hot Docs Film Festival - KONELINE: our land beautifulboxoffice.hotdocs.ca/WebSales/pages/i......
http://www.sacredheadwaters.com
And now I'm going back to bed.
It's one of the most beautiful and powerful films I've ever seen. I urge you not to miss it. It's on only once more, but I'm sure will win many awards and come back for a commercial run. It made me understand as never before the north, the landscape, the difficulties and joys of life there, the resilience of the people, their bond with the land and their ancestors and their struggles - even the different sides of development, how the incursion of mines and power lines is not black and white, though perhaps in any case it's too late to fight them. Or perhaps not. Most of the First Nations elders, in the riveting blockade scenes, are women. Nettie follows a woman who owns a hunting operation with a dozen horses, up into the mountains. We watch the Tahltan people live their lives and intuit what will happen as the mine moves in. It's unforgettable.
As one elder woman says, How would I explain the wilderness? It's our life.
What's heartbreakingly clear is this: once this magnificent wilderness is gone, it's gone forever. We will never get it back. We're selling our souls for today, but what about tomorrow? The fate of the land, not just for now but for the ages - that's the sacred legacy the elders carry. And yet they need to survive, and the world moves relentlessly on.
This is the email I just sent:
Nettie, your film is stunning. My friend Annie who was there with me works with the Jesuit Forum on third world development, and she was knocked over - she is working on mining issues in the Honduras, the same story. You capture all the complexities, the tragedy, the glorious, incredible beauty and history of the land. How in the name of God you got some of those shots - the pack horses, the salmon rescue, the moose hunt - unforgettable. Not to mention the intimate shots inside homes, inside the pub, the trucks - I was in awe and in tears. Obviously they all trusted you completely, including the line workers and miners - the mark of a true master of documentary.
I was just at the Creative Non-fiction Collective’s conference in Banff, and Wade Davis spoke, incredibly movingly, about his new book, "The Sacred Headwaters" - just about this, the Red Chris mine, the new power line, the Tahltan nation. And there I was, inside that world in your beautiful film. It should be nominated for a Documentary Oscar.
It’s not polemical but at the same time, we get it, what will happen to this land and these people when the land is split wide open. We get everything.
It’s a work of art. I congratulate you from the bottom of my heart.
Hot Docs Film Festival - KONELINE: our land beautifulboxoffice.hotdocs.ca/WebSales/pages/i......
http://www.sacredheadwaters.com
And now I'm going back to bed.
April 30, 2016
Sam and Drake
I'm looking on this bug - a throat, lungs and general acheyness bug - as a gift. Instead of doing all the busy things I should do today, including the library protest rally and Authors for Indies - I'm sorry, my librarian and writer friends - I have to sit in my house and garden, messing about with my manuscript and editing other people's essays. And reading two newspapers and eating the soup that's in the fridge. In other words, having a wonderful day.
I have just moved the lines of the last page of the manuscript around fourteen times. It's perfect now. Until I read it again.
So in the absence of anything to say - have not watched TV, not read a book since "Patrin," not worked in the garden, gone on a walk, been anywhere, done anything but cough - I will post this for your viewing pleasure. The famous rapper Drake has just put out a new CD with a graphic of him perched on the edge of the C.N. Tower. And one of my son's friends came up with this:
Sam as the C.N. Tower with Drake on his shoulder. Damn that's a good-looking man. And Sam isn't bad either. LOL.
P.S. How can you tell I'm really sick? This bottle of wine has lasted FOUR DAYS.
I have just moved the lines of the last page of the manuscript around fourteen times. It's perfect now. Until I read it again.
So in the absence of anything to say - have not watched TV, not read a book since "Patrin," not worked in the garden, gone on a walk, been anywhere, done anything but cough - I will post this for your viewing pleasure. The famous rapper Drake has just put out a new CD with a graphic of him perched on the edge of the C.N. Tower. And one of my son's friends came up with this:
Sam as the C.N. Tower with Drake on his shoulder. Damn that's a good-looking man. And Sam isn't bad either. LOL.P.S. How can you tell I'm really sick? This bottle of wine has lasted FOUR DAYS.
