Five days Later

Back, back, way back... Gone! Hi, unlike that baseball I just faked cranked out of the ballpark in my mind - I am not going anywhere - into the hands, an outstretched glove, the stands or skidding in between a row of empty seats. You can't throw me back onto the field in disgust and/or pleasure or put me in a glass box on a shelf. Nope, with the hype, hurrah and coverage of the Olympics now a fast fading memory, the NHL cruising in on the back-side of its schedule, and the taste of springy air and melting snow in the air - it is time to move on. Not me physically (yet), but my vested emotions in winter and all it has entailed this year. There is no more Friday morning pick-up hockey in Leamington because Dave Orshinsky can't justify to the Complex brass (Frank T. Sherk III?) the turning on of the H.J Heinz Arena lights for only ten skaters. It is just not economically viable, he says. My time on Campbell is also winding down. Four weeks left and counting. That's okay. As the cell-phone commercial voice over so eloquently says as the talent smashes his four hundred dollar black-berry with a bat, "When the love is gone, move on." Well, I plan (I use the word 'plan' loosely, it's more like what I'm going to do next, at this point in time)on moving back home with the folks for a few months, but I don't really consider that 'moving on.' It's more like 'moving home again.' Actually, if everything goes according to plan (there is that word again) I will celebrate my thirtieth birthday in my parent's basement (if they had one) on the street I grew up on (from five years onward) in a house I've moved in and out of four (or is it five?) different times. Let's see here. From ages 5-19 I lived in Kingsville. On Lansdowne. 19-22: Windsor. 22-24: Kingsville. 24-27: Windsor. 27-28: Kingsville and from 28 til now: Windsor. On Campbell. The last year or so has been interesting, fun, exciting at times, boring at others, sometimes crappy, but mostly comfortable, somewhat warm and enjoyable. Read on to know more.