Columns

Small blue cottage in Port Stanley with a wooden deck out front and green chairs on it. The cottage has an orange door.

Cottage Life

My back yard in the north Toronto neighbourhood of Willowdale was the closest thing to a cottage that I ever owned. It was private, fenced in, surrounded by cedars. I could enjoy the inground pool without feeling watched. On long weekends, it felt like the entire city emptied and headed for cottage country. I only had to open a sliding door to get there.

Leftover Rant II

This is the second and last column I wrote for a magazine that had a change at the helm. You know what that’s like; the new person wants to make their own decisions and hire their own people. It’s all good. But why let a collection of carefully chosen sentences go to waste? And so I ranted:  …

Closeup of a microphone suspended over an on-air computer in a radio broadcast studio

Judge With Caution

I’ve written and set aside at least a half-dozen columns about the #metoo movement. Most of what’s worth saying has already been said. Then I considered my own experiences and realized I had an unusual one, long ago, that might serve as a cautionary tale. It became my final column before Our London closed its pages for good. I was also invited to talk about it this week on News 95.7 in Halifax.  …