Glenn Kubish

  This is where, despite it all, or because of it all, I try to notice three things from my ordinary life that made me happy or grateful, and unpack them, so I keep an idea of the kind of stuff I am carrying around with me. Here is Three Things, episode 52 . 1. Cemeteries On New Year’s Day, I go for a walk in a cemetery. I’ve done it for years now. This year it was the St. Anthony/Mount Pleasant graveyards on 106th Street. I like the feeling of being in a graveyard, the feeling of knowing that I am in a graveyard and, especially, the feeling of walking out of a graveyard. I go to graveyards so I can still leave. My number isn’t up yet. In a graveyard, I’m nobody’s number. I mean, there are no neon or flashing signs or eye-catching vide there. I’m not being sold anything. No logos or brands. Just granite and upper case fonts, a lot of Times New Roman, if I’m not mistaken. It’s dramatic to be in the Mount Pleasant cemetery, standing on the hill, to the left a slope of snow-covered to...

  Happy end of the week, friends! I am no fan of death or dying, but I do enjoy a good graveyard every now and then. This week's podcast . Here are three things I noticed that made me happy or grateful this week. 1. Stamp collecting Walking through the rows of headstones at the St. Joachim Cemetery off 105 Avenue reminded me of leafing through my childhood stamp album. Before I ever heard of George Gershwin, I had a George Gershwin stamp, US Postal Service 8 cents, 1973. And an Emily Dickinson stamp from 1971, and, from 1975, a 10 cent Paul Laurence Dunbar, American poet, stamp. These postage stamps, and the ones of kings and queens and prime ministers and presidents chancellors and moose and the St.Lawrence Seaway and International Women’s Year, were miniature windows into big worlds far away from mine in northeast Edmonton. On my Germany page was a stamp from 1948 of a sour looking dude called G.W. Fr. Hegel, whom I wouldn’t meet until university, drinking beer at Dewey's. ...