Vignettes

The Blues and the Abstract Truth III

Posted by Le Clown ⋅ January 29, 2013 ⋅ 83 Comments

A block away lived a man and his family. We would often visit. The adults would sit around a glass table, roll joints, and smoke. From the dim room, I could hear the strum of a guitar. Occasionally, vocal harmonies. The kids recreated Spring’s awakening in the man’s living room: she was a bud about … Continue reading »

The Blues and The Abstract Truth II

Posted by Le Clown ⋅ January 23, 2013 ⋅ 68 Comments

You have harmonized your weakest beat, and have freed yourself from the blues; your death plays on constant rotation. Get up to a different song, switch the catalog, mute the void, count cadence skip a beat downbeat out beat play outside The Multiplication Table. Abstracting your death numbs the pain. A gut-ripping trip back to your legacy, … Continue reading »

The Blues and the Abstract Truth

Posted by Le Clown ⋅ January 18, 2013 ⋅ 175 Comments

It was white. Everything was white. Translucent. It was cold. Everywhere was cold. The neighborhood silent. Montreal, breathless. Frost. Ice. Still. Insomnia. January 1998. Lately, I fall asleep to the sound of woodwinds. Tonight, the sound of brass was muted by the storm, and replaced by the sound of wind whistling through the window pane. … Continue reading »

My Dad

Posted by Le Clown ⋅ November 9, 2012 ⋅ 172 Comments

This post is written for Brother Jon‘s Funny Dad Friday installments. My dad was born into a Catholic family: he was the first child and had ten siblings—all girls. At the age of 11, he was taken away from his school desk and was presented with his first job—eleven mouths to feed don’t come cheap, choices were … Continue reading »

Papa’s Gonna Buy You A Mockingbird

Posted by Le Clown ⋅ September 17, 2012 ⋅ 141 Comments

There was a wall-to-wall mirror in our modestly furnished living room. Most of what my parents owned were hand-me-downs from our neighbours who insisted on being called friends. My father was a janitor. We lived on the rez-de-chaussée of an upscale highrise, and our neighbours – our so-called friends – were the tenants: business owners, … Continue reading »