Maxed Out

Dear Santa: Oh man, where did the time go. Less than a week to go before the big day and I'm waaaay behind.

I have, I believe , a well-documented phobia about Christmas Carols. Many of them contain messages that trouble me. Some still give me the occasional recurring nightmare.

Slip slidin' away Slip slidin' away You know the nearer your destination The more you're slip slidin' away - Paul Simon I went skiing in Europe earlier this year. Austria and Switzerland. I'd never skied in either country or elsewhere in Europe.

Inquiring minds apparently want to know. That having been said, I still have no idea why inquiring minds ask me. But what the heck, nothing ventured ... So here's a recent smattering of Tales From the Inbox. Bear in mind, this is an opinion column.

After the morning rain , in the brief interlude of afternoon sunshine, I sat on the Longhorn patio, nursing a local IPA, watching machines dismantle the last of Whistler's bike park, wondering when the earth tones would be replaced by 50 shades of wh

The day Bob Barnett asked me if I wanted to write a column for his year-old Pique was one of the worst days of my life. Wait a minute ... that didn't come out right.

"No one has enough money anywhere—Banker, Indian Chief, Gestalt Therapist, no kind of person—to not set their own valves on their own Volkswagen!" - John Muir No, not the Sierra Club John Muir.

It was a dark and stormy night. Actually, it was a dark and crystal clear night.

And the winner is... Did anybody win Monday's federal election? Justin Trudeau's Liberal government lives to govern another day, albeit with a plurality of seats and a strongish minority government.

Next Thursday, there's an important public open house. You probably won't be there. I'm not even certain I'll be there. That's because both the timing and location—how best to put this?—sucks.