The Facts of Life

The Facts of Life

I am a man

in a man’s body

there was a time

when I doubted this

a time when gender was fixed

by cultural controlled behaviours

men felt this and only this

women felt this and only this


to explain

variations in object desire

people were reduced

to data that was used to explain

what didn’t fit

so that men

in men’s bodies

who desired other men’s bodies

were actual women in men’s bodies

genders misplaced

trapped and looking for release


that a man would desire another man

could be explained

in terms of heterosexual norms

because only a woman

could would should

have sexual desire for a man


when I realized I desired men

I accepted that theory

I was a woman trapped in a man’s body

though it never made sense

but it was deemed more reasonable

than man to man attraction

the data proved that

yet my human experience

refused to conform to that data


I tried on the dress

I pushed my butch button

swagger not sashay

I couldn’t conform

or commit 

to prevailing theories of the time


I changed

accepted that I am is this

undefinable entity

such is life

I am a man

in a man’s body

who is attracted

to men’s bodies

I’m not a theory

merely a fact of life

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Salad Days

Salad Days

a quiet corner

in an empty cafe

a spot with no view

of the tv’s


each turned to different sport

soccer baseball golf

all silent

cafe music non-intrusive



she was seated

at the table behind me

the back of her chair 

bumped mine as she sat

with all the other empty tables


she sniffed

as if to say

it was my fault

she had to squeeze in


I pulled my chair 

a little closer to the table

my salad served


her cell burbles

she answers

a loud personal conversation

that I don’t need to hear


I take my salad

move to another table


‘sorry some asshole just

shoved my chair’

she said into her phone

for all to hear


this is a true incident

would I have felt as I did

if it was a good looking guy

should I not recount it at all

would I have felt as I did

if she apologized

if she had said 

‘Can I have a more private table.’

if she had not talked so loudly on her cell


am I a control freak

for not wanting to be distracted

for wanting to eat in peace

after all

I was in a public space

I have no rights

can I recount this 

without sounding

like a misogynist


was she pretty 

I didn’t look

was she young

I didn’t look

was she trans

I didn’t look

to look would be to engage 

all I wanted to engage with 

was my salad

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Cape Fever

Taking an October break from 227 Rules to share some very recent ‘scary’ pieces. How recent? This one  was written October 2, 2017. Blood is best fresh and this one is still dripping.

Cape Fever

it was a black satin half-slip

with a hem of red lace

I found in my mother’s dresser

it was cool on my skin

I twisted & turned

in front of the mirror

to see it flow

clutching the waist

around my eight-year-old throat

so it was my black cape

dripping with the blood

I’d dragged it through

but it wasn’t long enough

not full enough

meant for my mother’s narrow hips

when I tried to sweep it up

to cover my face

it fell off

it would never be Dracula’s cape


besides my eye brows were wrong

even after I tired to create

those terrifying arches

using eyebrow forms from

my mother’s Elizabeth Arden make up kit

it had dozens of shapes to

none were arched enough

so I did what I could

by turning one upside down



the mouth full of tomato catchup

was impossible

too thick

for it drip over my teeth

or out of the corners of my mouth

the red was wrong

beet juice was the right colour

but way too thin

the two didn’t mix well either


but those eyebrows were spectacular

they scared even me

in the mirror

when I held a flashlight under my chin

all I needed was the right cape

and a victim

Essex Excess

On two cds of mp3s I have David Essex’s Rock On; Essex; All The Fun Of The Fair (these three I had at one time as lps); Imperial Wizard; Out On The Street; Gold & Ivory; Hot Love. Those first three were played & played. I was totally into this British pop sound, engineering was pristine, writing was inventive, sexy and his voice was great, plus he was sort of cute.

There was a sense of progression in those first three lps & the arraignments become more complex, the lyrics darker. Sadly though he never broke through into the US market – big in Europe he never mad eit big here after his first hit Rock On. I’m not even sure his later lps were released in North American because after All The Fun of the Fair he disappeared. He did have a film & stage career but that didn’t even ripple across the Atlantic.

So when I did the upgrades from lp, to mp3, I did a search to hear what else he had done & frankly, the later releases are competent but not as adventurous. I’m happy to hear them but they are for real fans. Those first three are worth seeking out those.

To round out these cds I’ve added some Canadian pop with Bachman–Turner Overdrive’s II, Not Fragile: fun heteronormative rock by some good old boys. Kiki Dee: best of – good voice, fine songs but not enough personality to break into the US market. Lemurian Congress: experimental electonica by a great Ontario band. Myke Mazzei: Septembering – a great collection by an criminally overlooked Toronto folk rocker – worth searching out.


Mike wasn’t accustomed to this sort of fuss. When he had attended gala film openings with Jack the attention was not on him or even Jack for that matter. He rather enjoyed it.

Each time the waiter came to the table it was under the watchful eye of the owner. The waiter would ask and then the owner would ask. He half expected the cook to be brought out at anytime.

‘You are enjoying this?’ Robert squeezed his hand under the table. ‘They like to please you.’ Robert dropped his voice to a murmur. ‘Almost as much as I like to please you.’

‘Am I blushing?’

‘One cannot tell in the candle light. If you are it suits you. You glow with happiness.’

‘Happiness and wine. I mean the wi-ar-jhra.’

‘Ah yes let there be more wiarjhra.’ Robert nodded to the waiter and another bottle of the thick red wiarjhra was brought to the table. ‘It is very good.’


The restaurant floated around Mike in an amber mist. The pressure of Robert’s hand under the table kept him from floating away. Was he drifting on waves of love, lust or this heady drink.

‘What is made of again?’ his tongue was thick. Was he speaking? Or thinking?


‘I see – mango to make a man go mad.’ Mike laughed at his own joke.

The waiter stood beside him, reached over to take his empty plate. He put his hand gently on Mike’s shoulder. Mike shuddered. He had a vision of the waiter flung across the room violently. Blood everywhere. Parts of his head crushed. More blood.

Mike stood. “I … I …. must …’

He stared at the waiter.

‘The messurs is  this way.’

The waiter pointed to the patio door. ‘If you would follow me.’

Mike walked, steadied by his vision. The effects of the wiarjhra cleared from his head and now were to be cleared from his bladder.

Chapbooks available:


kiss3on going 🙂 when new podcast are posted:  Disability after Dark  iTunes

August 31-Sept.3 – I have my ticket already


September: TBA

November 1 – 30 Participating NaNoWriMo


June 8-9 attending: Capturing Fire 2018

check out these poets from  Capturing Fire 2015 & 2016

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Second Offence

samp 48

Second Offence  (Law 19 take 2

that you offended me is enough

to ask why

shows how little respect you have

for me

or for anyone else for that matter

no one owes you an explanation


that I am offended

is sufficient for you to be humbled

for you to face the consequences

your lack of awareness of your actions

will be corrected

until they are you will be treated

with distrust

dismay distaste

those with this lack of

sensitivity to the needs of others

don’t merit anything more

I can’t be bothered beyond this point


in fact you will never know

things have changed between us

I’ll become less communicative

saying nothing’s the only hint I’ll drop

there’ll be no response

to any inquiry

no returned texts

emails will go directly to trash



I will be closed to you

unfollowed but not unfriended

that takes too much action

there will be no final goodbye

no explanation

because I don’t even want to hear

your apology

your rationalization

I’ll sleep well

22-texture01Another take on Law 19. Not fully successful, it’s more like notes for a piece. It springs from taking offence at someone who, say, mocks a disabled person and feels fully privileged to do so & being belligerent when confronted. If they feel that privileged they don’t deserve an explanation or further attention either.

22-texture02I’ve stopped following, listening to etc some people because of their political, religious or philosophical stance. The fact someone’s homophobic rants aren’t something I care to listen to doesn’t make me intolerant, does it? They can express their view but I don’t have to listen to it or want to hear what they say about anything else for that matter.

I no longer even feel the need to correct them, can’t be bothered pointing out our difference of opinions. I can stop listening without telling them I’m not listening. I see this on line – someone getting pissed at another person & posting something like: “you are an asshole & I’m blocking everything you post for now on.” As if that makes any difference to the person blocked. I merely stop following – I have more important things to do that try to teach someone a lesson. Attention seeking whores don’t keep my attention.

22-texture03I was seeing a black man from Nigeria who was sweet & fun; as we became more comfortable with each other, his opinions of other immigrants became increasing more negative & bigoted. He found most North American blacks to be trash. He found my p.o.v too naive & my politic too soft. He was so convinced & invested in his opinions that I finally concluded that as much as he was great in bed his politic wasn’t worth listening to & I stopped spending time with him. I became closed to him without explaining.

22-texture04On line I’ve opted to unfriend, unfollow even when I agree with someone – their investment in promoting their views became too busy, too frequent & wasn’t telling me anything new. They were putting too much energy into selling me something I’d already bought. Telling them enough is enough, as I did a few times, was equal to disagreeing with them. Whatever. I’m not losing any sleep over them.

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27brick01 texture

Davis Day Etting

19-door01Moving along the ‘d’ shelf I have this stand alone of Betty Davis: This Is It – a compilation from her lps. I also have in an MP3 collection self titled, Nasty Gal. Her look is space age vixen, her songs amazing raunchy blues and funky. I found an Lp on sale at Zeller’s in Sydney & was so happy with songs like He Was A Big Freak (I hit him with a turquoise chain). None of pals got her but I did – they preferred their funky to be tamer i.e. Aretha.



Near her on the shelf is Doris Day: a stand alone -Que Sera, Sera; & an MP3 collection of 100 Hits to which I added Ruth Etting – Doris played Ruth in a biopic. Hits was an iTunes bargain. Did someone say middle-of-the-road? Yes I have to agree but some of thse songs are classics she handles well: Secret Love, But Not For Me. Her voice, in small doses, is pure and clear as a bell.


19-door03Ruth Etting is the real deal – I have a set 10 cents A dance from 1926/30 – Body & Soul aches. Another collection Glad Rag Doll with more classics – too many to list. Sound quality is good, her singing is sweet with a touch of heart-ache. Very much worth seeking her out of you don’t have any already.



A little further on the shelf is a true stylist: Blossom Dearie. I have stand alone Jazz Master & tucked away in an MP3 collection A Summertime and Cafe Apres-Midi. Blossom is a cabaret singer who does things with show tunes that will astonish you. Her voice is light as air – Fiest owes her a debt of gratitude. She sings with energy, commitment & with a very applying sense of humour but never mocks her material. I love Blossom. Another one worth checking out.



The common feature found in these ruined cities is the total re-use of all available materials. Often though the inhabitants have no information as to what many of these objects once may have been. The use of vids has been more accidental that deliberate. Slow but sure the treasures of the past have been revived but many find them incomprehensible and useless.

The dedication of the remaining craftsmen to the repair and then the discover the purpose of these objects is inspiring. It is a testimony to the all enduring power of St V’ths that humans persist in pushing ahead even in the information darkness that surrounds them.

The tall towers that line the streets of the city outside Gate 67 have been carefully and gradually stripped of all contents. Glass has been removed, what still that can be reclaimed is taken though little use for it remains. Pl’tc is more sought after. So little of this poly-based substance remains. The process by which it was made has been undiscovered or if it is known no one has the capability of actually putting it to use.

We continue in the persistent and steady reclamation process. Minerals, substances and objects are being forged into purpose. We recognize that frequently this purpose may not have been what these objects were originally intended for.

With the Gl’nth Sect overseeing the the falfa we do have a steady and consistent source of sustenance. No other organism has been found the replicates itself as does the falfa. It is the only naturally growing organism on the planet.

Just as we have found purpose for the remnants of our past culture so have the Gl’nth Sect found and created uses for all facets of the falfa – from food, to fabric, to healing balms. We all must expresses our gratitude for this gift from V’ths.

It is believed that once the mystery of our history has been solved our race will once again forge ahead into the stars as did our ancestors.



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Going Up Stairs #NaNoWriMo 16.06

nano16picMore of the November 3 scene. I let it ramble along to make discoveries. I didn’t know what was in the upstairs room until they went into it. As you can tell I still don’t know the names of either of the camera men or the asst producer for the show. Nor am I decided on their genders or races. This is also the first time I start to develop how Dan feels about his ability. He’s never questioned it until Jen asks him about it. In editing I may this happen sooner as it presents an important avenue to explore if Dan James becomes a continuing series.15-pants

“It wasn’t any worse that their usual set to’s. I had become used to them by then and had learned not to come between them but to take the boys out of the house. Doors were slammed and Paula left the house. Her last words …” he faltered “… were “You’ll never see me again.” We never did.”

“Do you have any of her things? Clothes. Toys. Doc Martins?” Jen asked. “Dan can read photos, so can I to a certain extent. But it helps to be near things she actually handled.”

“Sure.” David got up. “I should have thought of that. The boys took over her room. Some of the furniture is still there. Book shelves. Her desk. It took me a couple of years to dispose of her clothes. Even if she came back they wouldn’t fit her anymore.”

“That must have been difficult.” She followed him into the house.

G hoisted his camera to follow them. Dan followed G with another camera man behind him. On the wall by the stairs leading up to the second floor was a large framed photograph of a picnickers at a table by a lake over shadowed by a sheer mountain ledge. It was very familiar to him. None of the faces were distinct. The clothes set it in the later 40’s, as did the car parked on the grass.

“You coming up?” G called down to him.

“You see something?” camera 2 asked. He made sure he got a good shot of the photo.

“Not sure.” Dan answered.

The room that had been Paula’s was now a spare bed room either of his sons would use when they visited. Jen ran her hands along the book shelf. Sat at the desk.

“Not much there?” David asked. “It’s been decades and lots of other butts and books have been in and out of this room.

“The desk used to be over there.” Jen said. “She liked it in that corner facing the door and the window.”

“Right.” David said.

She pulled the desk away from the wall to look at the back of it. “This would have faced into the room.” She gently stroked that side of the desk. “Can I?” she sat at it once again and pulled out one of the drawers. It didn’t come out completely. She ran her hand on the underside.

“Paula liked to hide things, didn’t she. She needed her secrets.”

“Don’t we all.” David said. “She became more … introverted after her mother died. That’s one of the reason I remarried.”

“You are right though. There isn’t much here. Too many men have been in this room.” Jen went to the window. “Is that the tree she liked?” A tall maple dominated the view from the window. “I mean the one behind the maple. That maple wasn’t there when she was here.”

“I …I don’t think she had a favourite tree. She was more an indoor child. Now that you mention it I don’t think she had a favourite anything. No dolls or stuffed animals she had to have near her. Same with her clothes. What she wore was never a big thing.”

“Until the Banshees.” Dan said.

“Yes. That last year she became more … I guess the word is ‘aware’ of herself as a woman. I think she knew how much it aggravated her step-mother as well.”

“She wanted the attention.” Jen said. “I doubt if she was that much of a real fan of any band. This one worked. If it hadn’t she might have tried Madonna to get the reactions she wanted.”

“I need a break.” David said and left the room.

“This is a wrap for now.” asst prod said. “Take, say, an hour. I’ll talk with Mr. Morrison and see what’s up.”

The camera crew went downstairs. Asst prod motioned Dan and Jen to stay in the room.

“Do you think we’re getting anything here. I mean neither of you seem to be picking up any vibes or clues. No new information.”

“Perhaps not, but he does confirm the ineffective way the constabulary dealt with things.” Jen said.

“We already know why these children were never found. That isn’t strong enough.”

“So we’re back to stretching things out for 90 minute episodes.” Dan said. “You want me to accuse him of molesting his daughter which forced her to run away.”

“My God.” Jen paled. “You mean she might not be one of the victims after all?”

“That’s certainly something the RCMP would have suspected. They do that in all cases of missing children.”

“Now they do. Did they back in the eighties?” prod asst asked.

“I’d have to see the actual case file. You know the files that the division has been unable to locate. I don’t get that vibe from him.”

“I don’t get it from the house either.” Jen said. “But the minute you suggested that it give me the sort of chill I get when an ugly truth is revealed. All I can say though is that someone was seriously traumatized in this house. Perhaps this room. But the weird shape of this house does things to energy.”

“He’s right about pyramid power?”

“Oh yes. This shape attracts and channels an energy your average house doesn’t.”

“I’m for talking with him some more.” Dan said. “At least to find out who saw her after she left here. Maybe she did go the reserve. She’s the oldest of the children that went missing and was clearly more involved in a world outside of the home and school.”

“I’ll talk with Mr Morrison and see how he feels about going on.”

“I’m going to take a stroll around the grounds.” Jen said. “Do your eyes always work on photographs?”

“No. It took me a few years after I left the force to stop seeing rooms as crime scenes. I don’t know if I want to get back into that head set.”


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NaNoWriMo 16.01

01-fenceIt’s actually October 24 as I start this blog post. Part of my Nano prep is getting as many blog posts ready as I can so I can focus on my Nano word count during November. Some of my weekly posts aren’t time sensitive so I can have them done in advance. Others, like my Nano progress posts are time relative, except for this first post. The sample here is from last year’s Nano novel, which is still in progress.

My target this year is to average 2500 words a day for a total of 75,000, which I’ve nearly hit every year so far. The total includes notes & outline as I add to those notes & change that outline. Not that I outline a lot. I do one more in hindsight to keep track of what I’ve covered already. Also keep track of what needs to be resolved for this particular story line.

I’ll be leaving lots of unresolved threads as I intend Picture perfect to be the first of the adventures my hero gets caught up in.

This I’m opting not to load up on loads of new music. I want to save $ for Capturing Fire for one thing & also maybe have some for the Nano winner tee. This year postage is more than the cost of the tee 😦 – which more than doubles the cost of the tee & when one adds in difference between US & Canadian currency pushes that cost even higher. At least there’s no shipping charges on the donations.

I have a Nano playlist that’ll consist of Chopin Complete Works Volume 1 (5 hours); Roxy Music/Brian Ferry (5 hours); Aphex Twin/Dance Music/Circus Music (over 8 hours) – that’ll do for starters 🙂 There’s lots more where this came from. I’ll play these on shuffle so my imagination never knows what’ll come next.

During the last week of October I look over last years work, see where I left things off, make notes on what needs to be followed up on. I already have ideas for some major scenes – i.e. the snake handlers church. I intend to push to the end of this story line which after two years is already at the 120,000 word mark. Then I can get out the chainsaw to get in shape for blogging.

This year I plan to blog fresh slabs on Saturday & Tuesday along with a bit of my griping about the process. I’ll also be getting out to some write-in’s if there’s some close enough to me. 20 min walk or 20 min via TTC is as far as I’m willing to travel. I’ll also be hosting Sunday write-ins for members of Nano Misfits. 01-chairSo stay tuned for for the rest of the month. The sample here is a random clip from last year. As always these are very rough drafts with minimal copy editing.nano16picDan pulled up two of Teresa’s photos. The one of her with Hank, and the one of his sister Linda, with Kevin. They had been taken with Teresa’s camera. he could remember that little Kodak of hers. For a crap camera it took okay pictures. The pictures had been taken within a short time of each other around the same location. The post T. & H. were leaning against was to the left of L. & K. Shadows made it mid-afternoon.

None of them looked as if they were dressed for a date. Minimal make up on the girls. Sloppy clothes on the guys. Maybe they didn’t dressed up for afternoon dates. Maybe it wasn’t a date.

He cropped each of the pictures so they only showed the couples from the waist up. With Hank’s dick bulge out of the picture it was clear to Dan that this was no nineteen year old as Teresa was convinced he was. Funny how a thing like that could add years.

He went into the family photos and found one with Linda and the man she had introduced to the family as Kevin. He was clearly not the man with Linda in Teresa’s picture.

Once he was satisfied with the cropped pictures he emailed them to Linda with the subject line: “Remember when” The body of the email said: ‘Met up with T. this past week. She has lots of vivid memories of you and me from when we in Stellerton. Here’s a couple of pictures she had of you and her with various boy toys. Let me know what memories they call up for you.”

He’d let her tell him who the the various men were. It was possible he had the years mixed up. But she was wearing the same blouse and pedal pushers in both pics, merely with different men on her arm.

Dan’s cell buzzed.

It was Sandy, “There’s someone down here to see you.”


“You might say that.” another voice answered.

“Jeremy! I’ll right down.”

Jeremy and daughter were talking with H.

Daughter {didn’t remember her name when I first wrote this} dashed over and after moving her Reporter camera to one side hugged him.

“Time you got something more lady like.” he said.

“That is a sexist remark.” daughter said.

“Then let me rephrase it – time you got some more sophisticated.” Dan reached past her to shake hands with Jeremy.

“How’s east coast life?” he asked.

“Wet and windy.” Dan replied.

“That was quite a storm. I guess you were in the middle of it.”

“I hope you got some good pics!” daughter said.

“What do you think.” Dan said.

“Show me. Show me.” she demanded.

“Well? There’s nothing duller than someone’s travel photos.” Dan said.

“Indulge us,”Jeremy touched Dan on the biceps.

“Twist my arm why don’t you. I do have a slide show of my storm pics.” He went over to the store showroom computer and loaded shots from his cloud. The pictures appeared on all the TVs on display and the one in the front window.

“This is the car I was driving. Built for speed.”

“Built for looks.” Jeremy said.

“These are some quick grabs as I stopped to decide which way to here. These are the cloudy horizon … the first drops … the lightening … the nearly total dark before the storm really hit … the windshield wipers losing the battle … a short video of the rain on the roof and on the wind shield …”

‘Weren’t you scared at all?” daughter asked.

“Oh yeah. Here’s where I pulled off at the Grille in Port E. … my red beer … my excellent burger … the sudden power loss … on the porch ….”

“You can’t see across the street.” Jeremy said.

“Too true.”

“Another little film of the SUV … I love the way it emerges from the rain but never seems to separate from it either … Lorenz Haydn my rescuer … my room at his b’n’b … ”

“How did you get those pictures driving in the rain?” daughter asked. “You can’t drive and aim a camera at the same time. Can you?”

“Nope. I was using my Talk2C attachment.”

“Talk2C?” Jeremy asked.

“Voice command for cameras. We’ve been developing it with Lifend.” He took a small box out of his shoulder bag. “Put the camera on this stand, plug in the cable. The stand can turn some and adjust a little up and down too. Not as good as hand held but as you see good enough. Or even wearing it around your neck. The microphone picks up limited voice commands. up down zoom shoot video stop.

Sucks a lot of power though but we’re working on that. An adapter for plugging it in to direct source.”

The slide show had progressed to the video him and Lorenz careening down the slope on Moose Trail.

“I did have to hold both myself and the camera steady for that.”

“That’s flipping amazing.” Sandy said.

“That one calls for Imax.” daughter said.

“You don’t look much worse for wear after your downhill surfing.” Jeremy said.

“Hey,” someone who had come in from the street said. “What movie is that from. I’ve been watching it outside.”

“Not a movie, yet.” Dan said. “Just the latest in home video technology.”

“You selling that here?” the man asked.

“Lifend.” Dan said. “You’ll have to go to our high end mall shop I’m afraid.”

“Figures. What the fuck, it’ll be in the next android phone anyway for a tenth of the price.” He left the Depot.

“Even at a tenth most people couldn’t afford it.” Sandy said.

“Daddy and I were wondering if you might be free for supper.”

“Un ho.” Dan said. “I knew there was a real reason for you two to show up here.”

“There’s something I’d like to talk over with anyway.” Jeremy said.

“I don’t like the sound of that.” Dan smiled. “I was looking forward to a night of nothing in my own little house. Busy day tomorrow and then I’m heading back to Moncton on a six o’clock flight.”

“We could order in to your little house. Couldn’t we Daddy.” Daughter said.

Dan hesitated. Peter was moved in for his house sitting duties. Explaining that to the Moxham’s would requite more tact than he could muster at short notice.

“Unless you have other real plans.” Jeremey said.

“All right. Let’s see …” He checked the time on his cell. “Say 6:30. That gives me time to get home first and make sure the cobwebs have been cleared out.”

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#JuryDuty Calls 2


The introductory video to jury duty on day one represented this as a profound learning experience participating in the judicial system – by day 4 it was more a profound reading experience – that’s right reading & some listening. Thank God for my Kindle & iPod – time doesn’t exactly fly but it passes quickly enough. With Nanowrimo approaching I had hoped to do some work on that but the only writing I felt inspired to do was blogs about jury duty 🙂

By day four I’d developed a holding pattern: recovery talk & then mediation music from transit. Always changed at St. George but got off at a different south station each day for some walking & ‘fresh’ scenery, a different Starbucks each morning too. The same variables. Arrived at the juror lounge around 9 a.m. Sit int he same spot, next to the same fellow waiter – exchange pleasantries then disappear into my book & music.20jury02

I don’t read & listen non-stop though. I give my ears & eyes breaks as I take a walk around, hit the washroom, fill my travel mug with water, snack on an energy bar. I make sure I move around every hour. If we don’t get called for jury selection we are dismissed around 1 p.m. each day. I guess no new jury needed trials start after lunch.

20jury03Much like airport waiting I’m struck by how plugged in nearly everyone is – I doubt if anyone there didn’t have a cell phone. People checking phones, playing smart phone games, tablets, eBooks, laptops. Though there were some who actually conversed face-to-face, taking pauses to check their cell phones. I must admit I did text a couple of guys to distract myself with the anticipation of their replies.20jury04On day four my favourite eye-candy was a no show 😦 Such was my bitterness with the judicial process. A bitterness that was tempered when we were excused for the day by 11:45 & at the same time told that our obligation had been fulfilled & there was no need to return Friday. Next call to serve will be in three years. I can wait.

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