A Clown On Fire
father
The Blues and The Abstract Truth — Epitaph
Keith Jarrett’s feet were stomping on the stage, his voice grunting over the music. I was walking on Pine Avenue with goosebumps. The surface of my skin was reacting to every single note he was playing and my heart was pounding. I teared up and felt embarrassed. Surely, The Köln Concert was New Age music, it couldn’t … Continue reading
Through a Glass Window
Mom and I were laughing. We hadn’t spent any time together lately, and to be sitting beside her, exchanging offensive jokes was a welcome distraction. Mom was living by herself in a quaint apartment north of Montreal. I was living with my girlfriend in the heart of downtown. We were both working, both caught up … Continue reading
Le Clown on Black Box Warnings
I once knew a tragic figure who lived with severe depression. Sadly, I thought he was suffering from a bad back. This is the most I have ever written about this man. Thank you for reading this.
Around the Size of a Poppy Seed
My initial foray into fatherhood was successful. The Terrible Twos and the Tantrum Threes were clever alliterations fabricated by failing parents to conceal their inadequacies as caregivers. I met my wife right about the time I self-proclaimed myself father of the year. On May 23rd 2009, we caught The National in concert, sang/laughed/danced in unison with Matt Berninger, drove … Continue reading
The Birth of the Cool
Writing about the life and death of my father proved to be an arduous task. Before tackling The Blues and the Abstract Truth, I revisited previous posts on the man: from his birth in extreme poverty to his tragic death, his life was a sad one. If you were to pick up his biography in … Continue reading
The Blues and the Abstract Truth III
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
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
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
The Year of Nothing™
THEN On February 3, 2012, I published my first post on WordPress: it was a video by Die Antwoord, and the post was titled One Tablet A Day—it was viewed 4 times, with no likes and no comments. Le Clown‘s character wasn’t born yet; this site was about a man who was married to a woman living … Continue reading
My Dad
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
Internet Famous
Badges of honour
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