The Life in My Years

An anthology of life

You passed them by as they left and you looked the other way, awkward, nothing to say.  They were already gone, ghosts who’s memories haunted the productions lines.

There’s something heretical about buying a few cans of Spam, a frozen pizza, toilet paper and a sixer of Coors Light and then asking the checker, “Oh and can you ring me up a six foot noble fir please?” Some things just have to remain sacred. 

In April of 1869 a fire broke out at the 800 foot level of the Yellow Jacket Mine killing at least 35 miners

The American West had a mind to be heartless; a place, a time and a life that didn’t discriminate when it came to the taking of life.

In life they lived hard and in death they repose in the hard land.

“You see somebody down on the course and it’s just extremely grounding and scary. That could be you in the next kilometre, the next 500m. It was really scary and intimidating and daunting. I’m just really grateful to have finished standing up.”

No less than the President of the United States proclaimed, “Shaken, not stirred, will get you cold water with a dash of gin and dry vermouth. The reason you stir it with a special spoon is so not to chip the ice. James is ordering a weak martini and being snooty about it.”

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