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About

This is what it could look like when one completely deconstructs a life as one knows it, and how to build from the ground up. Alternatively, this is a fresh look at an old story. The fine art of falling apart.

Champagne Gish

Ok, ok granted. The last was not much of an entry. But in all seriousness I was impressed with how tasty the champagne turned out to be. I never cared for it before, too fizzy and mostly too sweet. Has no one heard of a dry wine before?? Or a dry drink, for that matter.

Which brings to mind my adventure a couple of weeks ago when I decided to try a plate of poutine in a little restaurant in a nearby town. In a spur of the moment thing, I decide that I am going to have a drink. But first let me explain; when it comes alcohol I am either in one of two states *when* I am on Manitoulin Island. I am either on a quest for alcohol or I hardly drink at all. So, the fact that I have decided to have A drink is odd in that I have not decided to have SEVERAL drinks.

In any event, I decide to have a drink. Drink? Of course I choose a Gin & Tonic. I just have to check one thing: what kind of Gin is it? I asked the waitress. She grudgingly goes back to check. When she returns she tells me it’s Bicardi.

In my head: Since when has Bicardi made Gin.

So I say, oh, well ok then. I will have a Gin & Tonic. I figure that if anything, I will at least have achieved one of my many missions in life.

Then she shatters all of my expectations.

“We ain’t got no tonic”, she says.

And you wonder why I choose to drink a bottle of champagne to myself most evenings. Ok, the two evenings.

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