Glenn Kubish

Here are three things that left behind tracks of gratitude and happiness last week.   Let’s start at the end. 1. Cemeteries   Lyle Lovett and his Large Band played the Jube last week.   There were notes of mortality in the auditorium. Lovett talked about becoming a father of twins at age 59 and then doing the math and then realizing it’s best if he doesn’t do the math. He told the story of the family cemetery in Texas. The graveyard is in a “pretty little clearing at the edge of Sam Houston National Forest next to a little tributary of the main creek the old folks call the branch,” he said. Family graves there go back to the 1870s. “It’s the cemetery, really, that kinda keeps our family together, keeps us all associated,” he said. Lovely Lovett ambiguity, there. Is the family kept together in death? Or does the family stay associated in life by tending to the dead? Or both? Or something else again? He let the possibilities hang there before clearing it up, sorta. “We’ve always got ceme

Happy end of the week, friends. This is where once a week I try to notice, remember and record three things that left behind tracks of happiness and gratitude as, hey, hey, hey, the rolling river rolls on. Three Things podcast, episode 131:                               1. Language   I suspect that artificial intelligence has already done laps around me on this observation, but here’s the observation: the capacity for and the enjoyment of figurative language sets human beings apart from the machines. To be able to say that something is something that it obviously isn’t, or to be able to say that something is like something that it obviously isn’t, and what’s more, to get one’s meaning across, and, what’s even more, to impart a sense of newness and wonder in the world, this is what we can do with language as human beings. Metaphor and analogy are our superpowers. Thank you,   Man In Black. From the turntable in the house I grew up in, Johnny Cash walked the line and fell into a burning

Hello from Edmonton, where, once a week, I try to discern the tracks left behind after things that made me happy or thankful passed through. This week’s podcast is here for the hearing:                                 And for the reading: 1. The Tour The Tour de France has the architecture of a pilgrimage, its peloton a collection of the faithful moving together on the winding road to immortality in the Elysian fields of Paris. The gang is a motley group, at turns jovial and gloomy. Some are pure of heart and body. Some are polluted and penitent. Bowed down like supplicants, they move in their own congregations, recognizable by their various robes and badges. They hear voices in their heads. Together, this colourful ribbon flows through towns and villages, by churches and public houses, each pilgrim carrying water and a simple pouch of food. Chains shuttle like holy beads moving through expert fingers. Carried in this group, slightly elevated, is a heroic figure, a framed image, the ma

Happy end of the week, friends! Here are three things that left behind tracks of happiness and gratitude. Three Things podcast, episode 129: 1. Double play I pedalled across the LRT tracks north of the ruins of the Coliseum and found a baseball diamond where I didn’t know one existed. I was on one of those lazy rides where I hope to see something new. The diamond was that. A real game of uniformed players was happening on it. I stopped and watched from a picnic table beyond the left field fence. A line drive was caught, but bobbled, and then dropped by the third baseman. I scored it an error—E-5. The base runner then moved to second on a single. My infield position in my corporate slo-pitch years was first base.That’s where I was safe. I preferred playing third, but our manager didn’t. Prefer me playing third base. I was okay fielding the ball on the hot corner, even the balls hit hard right at me, but throwing the ball on target to first base in real time,