What's Andrew Eating. Volume 1 Episode 3

Summer Storm

     Summer was in full swing and nothing was moving. There was not a breath of air, and even though it was only mid July the grass already resembled a field of wheat ready to harvest. Malcolm was out with William who led them both down to the waterfront, at the very least the coolness of the water gave some kind of relief. Clear blue skies stretched across the horizon as far as you could see, at least as far as you could see in that particular direction. The harbour was jammed up with the Sail boats being used only for those that had them to sleep on at night or the occasional party. But not right now. Right now it was mid afternoon on a Saturday and all the sensible people were tucked under a nice willow with a glass of lemonade or their own preferred beverage.

William ran straight into the water and paddled back and forth along the shore line for 55 minutes straight. Malcolm had abandoned his sneakers and socks and waded in as far as he could without getting his shorts wet. The maples that lined the lakeshore were all virgin growth and made a formidable wall against the skyline to the north. So it was a complete surprise to both Malcolm and William when a crack of thunder broke the silence of the afternoon. It was such a loud and unexpected announcement of the arrival of the first summer storm that Malcolm practically fell into the water. He did actually fall in the water when William made a B line for him and tried jumping into his arms.  William didn’t like thunder, or fireworks or anyone mimicking fireworks, or car horns and he didn’t like the noise he just heard.  Malcolm was practically held under water by the weight of the collie and was frantically trying to get his head above the water line. Another loud boom followed by a flash of light high up in the clouds now looming over the line of maples probably saved Malcolm. William thought the picnic table over in the park was a much safer place and raced away. Coughing and spitting out clumps of algae Malcolm oriented him and crawled to his feet out of the water.

In an instant the wind picked up, as if someone opened a door which was followed by consecutive flashes of light and thunder. It was going to be a storm to remember but not one that you would really want to be out in. Malcolm knew he needed shelter and immediately thought of Andrew’s place. From the look on Williams face he would have sworn the dog was thinking the same thing. He was sure of it when he darted out from under the table and ran straight towards the house. Malcolm chased behind and just made it through the back gate when the first drops of rain began to fall.

     Andrew had a beautiful covered patio and laughed at the sight of Malcolm soaked to the skin. “How is it you are so wet and it is only starting to rain?”  William was scratching madly at the patio door. Andrew reached over and slides the glass panel. 

“But he’s soaked, protested Malcolm. 

“Just a little water, it will dry.” Replied Andrew calmly. “Anyway, you’re just in time, I was experimenting this afternoon and it seems I got a little carried away. Why don’t you grab a towel and dry yourself and I’ll finish up here. Then we can sit and watch the rain. I love a good storm, don’t you? 

“They’re the best” said Malcolm as he disappeared into the house.

Andrew called in and asked Malcolm to bring out a couple plates with him along with the bottle of Shiraz that was sitting on the counter.

Malcolm set the table and Andrew served. “Fresh Buratta and heirloom tomato salad with fresh basil and balsamic vinaigrette” he announced.

They ate and Malcolm told Andrew all about the afternoon and practically drowning. They laughed together and counted the lightning and thunder strike listened to the rain and let the coolness of the fresh storm air wash over them. Malcolm even tried a little wine; it was a perfect summer day.

What’s Andrew Eating? Volume 1 Episode 2

          

Summer Love

       The summer that Malcolm took a job gardening was the summer that love came. Briefly but it was there and unmistakable.  Bev lived west at the farthest side of the city and it was a challenge for them to see each other as Malcolm had just earned his licence. Bev had yet to take her test and although his father was a great romantic himself he was only able to help bi-weekly in the area of the vehicle lending department. This meant that Malcolm had to be creative and let sleep remain an elusive ghost of his past. But he was in captivated and so no obstacle was too great.  

Eating also became something more of a hobby than an essential. After a particularly hard week of long hours and plus 30° temperatures even Malcolm was left wanting. He hadn’t seen Bev all week and was looking forward to the weekend so they could be together.

Friday afternoon cooled down slightly and was perfect for a bike ride down the lakeshore. Malcolm took his time and let the cool air wash over him and just soak in the summer smells. One smell in particular caught his attention as he rode past Andrew’s house. His stomach rumbled protesting the absence of a full lunch time meal thanks to the Nolan’s dog.  Malcolm had an epiphany and made a wide rolling turn back up the driveway to Andrew’s  house hoping that he would be willing to show him how to cook a romantic dinner for two.  

Andrew was just finishing off an Ahi pepper rubbed butterflied prawns on top of tagliatelle in a lemon mushroom cream sauce and spinach that he was more than happy to share..

         Malcolm woke up early Saturday morning and bought all the ingredients and even talked his parents into going out for the night. The evening was fantastic, and he made the promise that he would do this for her every weekend and he stared into her eyes and as he kissed her he secretly hoped that his new friend Andrew didn’t move away.

Love, life and wine

     Admittedly I’m a little drunk so that could explain the nostalgic repose that I am feeling but I have to say that I’m also inspired.

     To think, to imagine, to dream of oneself within oneself out of time and space, are we created just too merely follow or is there more? An age old question –yes? Is there a higher purpose or are we just waiting for the end of our time. What a tragedy!

     If we are here to love, and I’m speaking more than in the simple architecture of civilization but to truly love, passion beyond understanding. Love in the beauty of all things is not in our nature but depending on whether you look at things from a selfish perspective or through the eyes of wonder then even death can be/is beautiful.

The sun in itself is a destructive force, even by its own nature it is destroying itself just to be. Can that not be said of us? We move forward and grow, but we are also move slowly to death. So therefore to be afraid of death is also to be afraid of life.

     What would you do if I said I love you? Wrapped my arms around you from behind and whispered shadows of a love fulfilled that only your ears could understand? Would all time and material things melt away into a mere backdrop and only then, only that moment mattered? Would you say you love me too? Out of nothing my heart exists only for you. If the ocean washes away an imprint left in the sand does that mean it never existed? In that time, the image lasts an eternity, as the image of you does for me.

If you never heard the words spoken softly from behind is it the same thing as the imprint in the sand? To me it is a sad thing that the ocean knows not of the image it captured the same as if love is never truly understood.

     A story then, something out of time and yet eternal like the words of love, just for you. 

What's Andrew Eating? Episode 1

Malcolm McTavish was born of Scottish immigrants in the Lower Lakes region of the Canadian Shield. A proud a spot as any for the son of Sheep Herder. Honest, hardworking folk that ner had a bad word to say of anyone.

Up early each day, Malcolm would take William; the family Border collie out along the beach of Lake Ontario and let him round up some of the geese that frequented the park close to the house. He loved to hear them honk and watch them scuttle along in front of William, who was weaving this way and that. The sun always felt warm on Malcolm's face. Didn't matter if it was mid December as the temperature dipped below freezing or during the humid lazy days of July. On days when there was school, William would follow Malcolm and be there when school was out to walk him home again. It was a grand life. Malcolm played hard with his friends and even tried out for Shirling believing the shear danger of the sport would win some affection from the girls. Unfortunately the game never really caught on and was cancelled after the first game when the opposing team captain had to be rushed to the hospital from snake venom in his eyes. 

After school, chores were completed and then homework which usually kept Malcolm busy until supper. It was a grand life and he treasured every minute of every day...well to be honest except supper. Supper was always something filling, never fulfilling. Malcolm loved his Mom, no question but he was tired of tatties and mince. Malcolm longed for something just a little different.

Then one day while he was down at the beach something strange happened. A warm gentle breeze carried with it something Malcolm knew was going to change everything. He knew the smell of backyard hamburgers and hotdogs no no no. this was something different. A tingling overwhelmed Malcolm's olfactory senses and he had to stop, head lifted in the air like his faithful companion William did whenever there was a beached fish warming on the sand.

This was no regular fish, certainly no fish Malcolm had ever smelled before. 

 

This was a Beer marinated pan seared Sable fish with smashed new potatoes, oven roasted heirloom tomatoes and sautéed pea shoots with double smoked bacon vinaigrette. 

Malcolm was overcome. He had to find where this new heaven was coming from. At the edge of the park, at the edge of the paved pathway that led all the joggers and cyclists towards the down town lived Andrew. It didn't take a long time for Malcolm to introduce himself to Andrew. And although he never asked, (his parents brought him up never to ask) he hoped - oh how he hoped that one day Andrew would invite him to stay. Until then, he was quite happy just to know that something else existed out there. And so he dedicated himself to taking up a diary and following Andrew's pilgrimage to his great culinary manifesto.

He called it, “What’s Andrew eating?” Malcolm’s world was changing.

On Being Me.

On being me.

Have you ever wondered how you got to the place you are? Pretty soon you’re retracing the steps of your life, back through memories like pages in a book, or a film I guess.

It could be as simple as being introduced to a new person that eventually becomes a lifelong friend or mate (or both). It could be more intricate, events that are woven deep into the fabric of life like exposing your kids to art, music and stories. It is only through the passing of all the everyday’s when suddenly you realize that they are now exposing music and art and their own stories to you.

I have friends that can do things I can never do but their passion only inspires me to be better. Friends that have come and gone, friends that I can only see on vacations, friends that are friends no matter how much time passes without anything and friendships that destructed from saying the wrong things. I would like to say sorry for my part in those, I’m not always gentle and occasionally have a hot tongue.

How did I get here, to the place or rather the person I am now? Seems like a simple question compared with asking why am I here and yet the answer is as elusive. I guess I’ll just keep doing what I do and see how the story ends.

Calgary Expo with John Noble of Fringe and Lord of the Rings

It started out innocently enough, with a simple question. Would I like to be a Media Host for the Calgary Comic and Entertainment Expo? "Let me think about it", was my reply after digesting what this actually meant. Host a guest at the Expo, hmmm. So after a couple days of humming and hawing, I took a look at the guest sheet again. The entire cast of Star Trek TNG was already taken, which was okay. A little to big for a first timer anyway. Scrolling through the list the images of John Noble and Jasika Nicole from JJ Abram's show Fringe came up. I was shocked and surprised that no one else had jumped at the chance. Are you kidding, John Noble, I can host John Noble? Believe it or not I said yes.
This was my first time even going to the Expo, let alone participate in. My friend Scot Campbell actually had to talk me into it. Looking back after spending the weekend among such amazing people.. and I'm talking about the fans here and spending the entire weekend getting to know John and Jasika and their agent Holly I can't believe I almost said no. Both stars are so grounded and devoted to the fans they took time to speak and ask questions with everyone that came to see them. Their down to earth and informal demeanor relaxed any anxiety I had within seconds and it only got better from there. In short, two people that simply chose acting as a career. My son, Jesse just finished his first professional theatre acting in the Twelfth night in Toronto at Snobbish Theatre. This weekend was a rare privlage and I can see why he wants to be on stage in Stratford.
Thanks to everyone.

Nothing good can come of this. (Chapter 1)

1

Kate was looking for something in the bedroom. Sam could hear the occasional grunt and soft curse, “I’ll be there in just a minute”, she shouted from down the hall towards the living room.

“No Hurry” said Sam trying to sound casual but he was pulling out his cell phone as he said it and began to text, gonna B L8 he typed in and hit send and pocketed it again.

“Actually, I needed to talk to you before we went out” said Sam.

Kate was hopping down the hall trying to pull on a sandal on her other foot extended out behind here.  She had to reach out for the corner of the wall on the last step to steady herself. The look on Sam’s face wasn’t what she was expecting. Instant dread washed over her and she knew immediately what he was going to say.  She stopped moving, and looked up to the corner of the room. “Already” she thought to herself, but I thought it was good” The last 3 words moved from thought to speech.

All Sam heard was “it was good”  

Sam, who was actually busy pulling a ticket stub out of his pocket didn’t see any of the body language coming from a girl in love. A girl believing she was about to be rejected. When he did look up Kate had turned away and was wiping a tear out of the corner of her eye. “What?” he asked absently.

“I thought it was all good!” whispered Kate.

“Oh, ah yeah, yes it is” said Sam quietly, not really sure what he was agreeing to starting to feel uneasy.

“Is something the matter,” Sam asked?

“You tell me!” snapped Kate.

“Huh, what? Wait.” I’m confused said Sam. “I wanted to show you something,” he said as he held out the piece of paper.

Kate had no interest at what Sam was holding, all Kate wanted to do was grab her coat and leave, saving at least some dignity, but it was draped over the couch which was exactly where Sam was standing. She had to walk toward him. As she got closer she looked at the upturned hand and could see the ticket that lay across it.

“What’s that she asked? Reaching for her coat.

“This is what I wanted to talk to you about” said Sam.

Kate had her coat in hand, and was heading for the door, “come on, we’re going to be late!”

Sam made a weak protest but could see he was in no position to argue and as he hesitated he the automatic door closing mechanism was already following the footsteps Kate made as she rushed down the hallway.

Sam stuffed the ticket into his pocket and picked up his coat. He looked around the room. The floor to ceiling glass panels along the south western side of their condo reminded Sam of a suite in the Delta hotel in downtown Vancouver. Probably why he liked it, it always had the illusion of being on holiday to some degree. This let the golden warm light of early evening sunlight wash its way up the north wall which was the dining area that was defined by a simple tan corduroy couch at the edge of the living room. Last night’s dishes sat in the sink of the kitchen, although he couldn’t actually see them he thought about it. The case that held the guitar lay across the ottoman, open with the guitar resting peacefully inside once again. Turning on his heel, the rest of the room had a shower door haze quality and it wouldn’t be until he bent down to grab his coat that he would looked down and realize his eyes had filled with tears. 

He wouldn’t be back here again. He had no idea how he knew it but it was as real as anything he had ever felt. He pulled out ticket once more and read the numbers out load to himself.  Five, four, zero, one, four, he thought that hearing them would somehow make them magically give them meaning. No such luck. He grabbed his keys accidentally clipping he edge of the copper bowl. A soft metallic ringing filled the empty space and held on long after Sam had locked the door and met Kate at the elevator.