Monthly Archives: April 2016




I thought I would have my 2015 income taxes filed by March 30, a month before the deadline.  I promised myself I would after filing late in past years.  But I procrastinated.  March 30 came and went.

“Nothing is more damaging to character than unfinished projects.”

I read that quote years ago, and cannot find it or who said it on the Internet.  Did I procrastinate to self-sabotage and damage my character?  The more I procrastinated the worse I felt.  The worse I felt, the more I procrastinated.  But I knew I had to file by April 30, 2016, and I knew that doing my taxes would be the best moment of my life.

I finished my taxes and dropped them off at the tax office before April 30.  (This year April 30 is on a Saturday.  The Canada Revenue Agency moved the due date to the first business day, May 2.)

The American tax deadline is April 15.  April 15 is when the Titanic sank.

The Canadian deadline, as mentioned, is April 30.  April 30 is the when Hitler died—or was supposed to have died.

Hitler faked his death and escaped from Germany.  He is still alive and well.  He works for both the Internal Revenue Service (IRS), and the Canada Revenue Agency (CRA) as consultant.





Although it has lessened, I still feel the joy that I felt two days ago.  This is the best moment of my life!  But will my life become boring if it is only a series of best moments?  It has not become boring so far.  So far things that used to bother me make me laugh when I think, “This is the best moment of my life!”  I feel more at peace than I did before.

Isn’t this typical silly human behavior?  Instead of me fully enjoying the best moment of my life, and fully experiencing it, part of me worries about whether I will become bored with best moments.  How will I know peak experiences when all my experiences are peak?  I need contrast don’t I?

When I think about this I hear a voice saying, “Go with the flow, Gary, no matter what you experience.  Always go with the flow—even if your flow is fear and worry.  Fully experience the flow.  It’s all best moments.”




“You’re up and down like a goddamn toilet seat!”

Those were my father’s words.  He was giving me a psychological assessment when I was a child.  The word bipolar was not in his vocabulary.  I would be enthusiastic about something and then suddenly lose my enthusiasm.  He did his best to keep up with me.  He would share my enthusiasm for something, and then be confused when I suddenly no longer felt enthusiastic.

I have never been diagnosed as bipolar, but I know I am capricious, mercurial, temperamental, unpredictable, etc.  To paraphrase my good friend Ralphie Emerson: I speak strongly what  thinks, and I will speak strongly what tomorrow thinks even though it contradicts today’s words.  I have avoided relationships because I love coming and going when I please, and I don’t want to worry about how my capriciousness affects my partner.

Why am you telling you this?  Yesterday morning a mood struck me like lightning, and it is still with me.  I started thinking about my nomadic existence and my lack of money.  Just as I was about to feel depressed, I felt joy flow through me and I heard a voice say, “This is it!  This is as good as it gets!  This is the best moment of your life!” 

Wow!  I could not hold back my enthusiasm.  I felt great!  I repeated, “This is it!  This is as good as it gets!  This is the best moment of my life!”  No matter what irritations happened to me yesterday, I did not get upset.  I felt joy and I kept thinking, “This is it!  This is as good as it gets!  This is the best moment in my life!”

How long will this joy last given that I am “up and down like a goddamn toilet seat”?  I don’t know.  The joy is still with me today.  So far, so good.    (I have heard that a man said this after jumping off a tall building.  As he passed each floor he said, “So far, so good.”)

For now, and now is all there is, “This is it!  This is as good as it gets!  This is the best moment of my life!”



I have never seen this before, nor ever heard of it happening.

I save toilet-paper rolls for crafts.  This morning I accidentally knocked one off a shelf while reaching for something else.  It fell about 6 feet (2 metres) to the floor, and then rolled about 3 feet (1 metre) before it stood up on its end and stopped.  Wow!  How did it stand up on its end?  Was it possessed?

I took this as a sign, a good omen.  I knew that I was going to have a Toilet-Paper-Roll-Up Day.

Normally I have to wait for the 36 Finch bus.  Not today.  The bus arrived just as I was getting to the bus stop.

I picked up some bananas at Loblaws before going to the library.  I don’t like paying for grocery bags and usually say, “No thank you” when the cashier asks whether I want a bag.  The cashier did not ask me whether I wanted a bag.  She just put the bananas in a bag and gave it to me at no charge.

I decided I would see how much of a toilet-paper-roll-up day I was having with a lottery ticket.  I bought a dollar scratch ticket.  I won five dollars!

As I write this, my day is not even half over.  What wonderful things await me?

I wish you all a Toilet-Paper-Roll-Up Day!



Dear Fellow Members of the Universe,

Today, April 22, is my day.  I am glad that you honor me at least one day of the year.  I look forward to the time when you honor me all year round.

Sometimes I wonder about us.  We are all members of the Universe, but we do not treat each other as if we are on the same team.  Often we lack the perspective to see that anything we do to others, we do to ourselves.  We see separation where there is none.  We are One.

Some say that we should live together as brothers and sisters.  Those who say this are wrong.  We are living as brothers and sisters now with the ways we fight and destroy each other.  It would be better if we lived together as friends.  Friends  get along better than brothers and sisters.

I have been around for over five billion years.  I have survived many disasters from space which were worse than pollution.   Those of you who insist on polluting will not destroy me, but you will make living difficult for yourselves and other forms of life on me.  All life needs my clean air and clean water.  How hard it is for me to keep the air and water clean.  I am doing my best, but it is hard.

I could use your help in keeping my air and water clean, but you already know this.  You know what to do to make life good for yourselves, others and me.

Thanks again for honoring me.  I wish us all the best!

Yours sincerely,



P.S.  Some say that my name is Mud.  You may call me Mud if you want, but I prefer Earth.


Author Samuel Longhorne Clemens, better known under his pen name, Mark Twain, is seen in this undated photo.  Twain served as a secretary for Nevada Sen. William Stewart, who offered the author the job on the condition he would continue his literary and journalistic pursuits.   (AP Photo)

My good friend Mark Twain died Thursday April 21, 1910.  I was at his deathbed.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” said Mark.

“Why not?” I asked.

“Because it’s 1910, and you haven’t been born yet,” he said.

“Not being born yet never stopped my imagination,” I said.

“Good point,” he said.  “Okay, you can stay if you promise to write about my death 106 years from now.”

“I promise,” I said.



Adolph Hitler was born Saturday April 20, 1889.  He never liked me.  I suspect my brown eyes had something to do with it.

I always felt sorry for Adolph.  He was so confused!  He thought that it is possible to make a master race from human beings.  He never realized how defective human beings are.  You can’t make gold from muck no matter how hard you try.

Adolph was not the only one confused.  Black Lives Matter is a group of confused human beings.  They believe that only black lives matter.  Adolph was a racist because he believed that only white lives mattered.  Aren’t the people in Black Lives Matter racist?  Apparently not.  Only white people are racist according to the Rules of Political Correctness.

Black Lives Matter sings a tune, no matter how silly and discordant, and the politicians and media dance and bend over backwards.  They are afraid of being accused of racism and will go out of their way to prove that they are not.

In July, 2015, police shot Andrew Loku, a black man.   Black Lives Matter says the police are racist and killed Loku because he was black.  The police officer who shot Loku was not named and not charged.  Black Lives Matter demanded an Inquest and got it.  They are demanding the details of the investigation be made public.  Oh how the politicians and media are dancing!

In February, 2015,  an armed security guard shot Donny Ouimette and Ryan Hind in a Mcdonald’s restaurant.   The security guard was not named and not charged.  The details of this incident are still secret.  Why aren’t politicians and the media dancing so that the police make the details public?  Does no one care because Oiumette and Hind were white?

Happy Birthday, Adolph!  We hope that after 127 years you have come to realize that all lives matter.



What happened in McDonald’s when a Toronto security ……/what-happened-the-night-an-off-duty-security-…

Jan 27, 2016 – Donny Ouimette, left, and Ryan Hind, the two men who were shot and killed by an armed security guard in a McDonald’s in February.




. . . . . . What to write?  Voices?  Any ideas?

“You’re on your own.”

On my own?  Why?

“We joined the union and it’s after working hours.”

Union?  What union?

The International Voicerhood of Voices in Your Head.”

Why did you join the union?

“Better pay and benefits.”

Better pay?  You guys make money?

“It’s not money as you understand it, but it is a form of currency.”

Benefits?  What benefits do you need?

“At times, being in your head is stressful and you drive us crazy.  To cope we need to talk to a therapist.  Being in the union means a mental-health plan that our union dues pay for.”

So, no ideas on what to write?

“Sorry, but we already told you that it is after working hours.”


My good friend Albert Einstein died Monday April 18, 1955.  I was not with him when he died, but he told me about it.  He said, “I rose up out of my body and was surrounded by a bright white light.  The light was so bright!  The first thing I did, in the afterlife, was buy a pair of sunglasses.”

I the only thing I understood about Albert’s Theory of Relativity was that my cousins were related to me because of my aunts and uncles.  My aunts and uncles were related to me, too.  I have no idea what my relatives have to do with energy, mass and the speed of light.  I do know that when my relatives visited, they took up space and time or spacetime as Albert used to say.

Albert Einstein’s study on the day of his death.

In 1895, when Albert was 16 years old, a Munich schoolmaster wrote in Albert’s school report,  “He will never amount to anything.”  This schoolmaster was right!






I don’t want to know that my mind is one of the most powerful agents in the Universe.

I don’t want to know that only I make myself sick.  I want to blame some outside germ, person or chemical.

I don’t want to know that only I make myself better.  I would rather give credit to some doctor, medicine or food.

I don’t want to know that only I make myself happy, and only I make myself sad.  I want to say that things outside cause my happiness and sadness.

I don’t want to know these things because I don’t want to be the only person responsible for my circumstances and well-being.  I constantly give my power away to things and people outside me to avoid this responsibility.  In doing so I can continue to live illusions, and pretend that I am happy.