A little more than half my life ago a guy call Jimmy Cahoon won the lotto. Millions and millions. He was an alcoholic in downtown Halifax and blew the money in about 6 weeks. Last of it went on a taxi ride from Montreal back home. I only knew him as a regular at the old Ginger's tavern on Barrington Street. He and other guys in the same drinking situation used to sit around the pool table rooms' edges shouting at we college kids "DID YOU HALF TO HIT IT THAT HARD". They didn't play anymore themselves because of the shakes. They were good. Every tip and every public shaming was a life lesson. Once my scarf went missing but who cared about that. Not sure if that was before or after he had his six weeks in Montreal.

• I am reminded of Jimmy because of these good people from my old high school town who did far better than Jimmy.
• Expo 67! I pity all the poor bastards in the world who missed it. I really do.
• Your Oor Wullie news update, care of Mike.
• “Here are my principles. If you don’t like them, I have others.” Is this the beginning of the end? Imagine having the nerve to get fed up with Mr. Harper. Did he get permission first?
• How do you know you have done too many construction contracts? Because you notice the road building techniques.

That was a week. A week with Wednesday off. I think I like Wednesday off almost as much as Monday. You are either coming off a day off or heading into one. In a perfect world, no one works on Wednesday.