December 16, 2020
Indigenous people had been so long suppressed, had been so long ignored, had been so long misrepresented, so feather-ized, so cigar-store-Indian Kaw-Liga-ized, so siwash-ed, so savage-dized, so Indian brave-and-drunken-ized, so Lone-Ranger-and-Tonto-fied, so Hollywood-ized, so priest-ized and Indian-agent-ized, so chief-ed, so ugh!-ed, so how!-ed, so war-whoop-ed, so many-moons-ago-afied, that it took will and defiance (and research) to find ourselves again.
November 27, 2020
I believe it was Saskatchewan where one night we saw the aurora borealis, green dancing lights above the northern horizon, although we were only guessing then what it was we were seeing. It was Saskatchewan also when we were run off the road.
November 24, 2020
... and standing beside the road with your thumb stuck out became a kind of shared identity. Travellers from nowhere in particular going to nowhere in particular; like all nomads by choice, taking their identity from the motion itself.
November 2, 2020
Sometimes life needs a laugh track, so you know where you stand.
February 16, 2020
Continued from Legends of Myself 133 134. Prince Rupert and Vancouver, 1965-66: The Last Journey There was a little hole in the window to our room at the lower right corner of the glass which the kittens liked to poke their noses out of occasionally. I stood at that same window often to look out […]
January 29, 2020
Continued from Legends of Myself 131 132. Prince Rupert, 1965: Truant and Skeptic I seriously dislike it when someone wastes my time. If I’m to waste my time, I prefer to do it myself. In Prince Rupert I could read the works of Edgar Rice Burroughs (45 cents or 50 in the back-corner rack at […]
January 24, 2020
Continued from Legends of Myself 130 131. Goodbye to the Skeena And finally we had to leave. Some of it we carried with us when we went. I remember almost 10 years later my father buying another coffee percolator, explaining how he missed the smell of coffee brewing. Percolators long ago ceased being the technology […]
January 20, 2020
Continued from Legends of Myself 129 130. The Boneyard, 1965: High Boat on the River One week while the fishing was on, a storm came to the Boneyard. It wasn’t the kind of storm that the motorized gillnetters on the river would have much trouble with, although it might make pilot and crews nervous, I suspect. […]
January 6, 2021
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