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Life in Quarantine

Edmonton Quarantine Life, Day 5: It’s light out ’til 11 here




EDMONTON, ALBERTA – It doesn’t get pure dark out here until nearly 11 p.m. That’s something I knew about previously, having been here in the summer once, when I covered the 2006 Stanley Cup Finals, Edmonton-Carolina. But it’s still weird.

Hence, I’ve been going to sleep – or having trouble falling asleep, that is – at about 2-3 a.m. every night here so far. That’s not a big deal, when you’re in a 14-day quarantine and not exactly any pressing things to get up to administer.

Sleep is still – and probably always will be – a problem for me. I’m considered an “off-the-charts” insomniac, so I still need help getting to sleep. I like being a night owl most of the time, though.

I got some good media news today, when I heard through a source that the NHL will put us “print” media on a row of chairs at tables on the main concourse for the playoffs. That brings me approximately 200 feet closer to the action on the ice. Otherwise, Edmonton’s press box is WAY up there.

On the dinner menu tonight: Spaghetti and red sauce.

  • Yeah, it’ll be pretty basic, and I’m kicking myself right now for not having asked for a few onions and shallots in my original grocery list whilst checking in here. That, and some heavy cream and parmesan cheese, some basil and some hot chili flakes. I can make a mean, spicy, real good sauce out of those ingredients. This will be very basic, but I’m fine with basic.
  • When I first started living on my own at any point in my life – Cape Cod, 1986, a summer job selling timesharing (I made a fortune for a kid in the ’80s, selling tours to a resort where once inside they put the real hard sell on you) I ate Chey Boyardee box spaghetti most every single meal, and I mean every single one. I actually wish I’d asked for Chey Boyardee box spaghetti too, but I’m not sure they still sell it.
  • It’ll either be that, or a big can of Chunky Steak and potato soup. I could make some toast, too, and have me a nice simple good little meal.
  • I am wondering how I’m going to get some cash on me right now. I should have taken out more cash than I did in coming here. Now I’ve given out a lot of that cash for groceries and stuff, and I can’t go out of this apartment, or risk a six-month sentence in jail and/or a $750,000 fine. If I can’t find a way to get some cash gotten for me, I’ll have to tell my buddies making deliveries for me to….uh, put it on my tab.
  • I started watching a documentary on Woodstock last night, but fell asleep in the early parts of it. So I’m excited to see the rest. My dad actually was going to go to Woodstock, but a last-minute film job took him elsewhere. I was 4 when Woodstock happened. And, I lived in New York City at the time. One of my earliest memories I have is sitting in an NYC movie theater with my mom and seeing “Yellow Submarine” by the Beatles. Yes, I saw a Beatles new release.
  • One of the smarter decisions, in deciding which “luxury” items to take with me on this trip: My Alexa Bluetooth speaker. I have stereo sound in my room. I never realized how luxurious it felt to have that.
  • I’m still trying to get started on a novella. It’s a political thriller I have in mind, with a plot that would be very much based on today’s events. I’ve got to stop being so lazy on this and try it. Part of me thinks, “dude, it’ll be cheezy and awful and no one will buy it.”
  • That’s the side of the brain I need to tell to STFU more.


  1. Get a haircut. It’s starting to get a bit shaggy already. I like the high and tight look, so with my Chia-pet style hair growth pattern, I look worse by the day when it gets longer.
  2. Pay a guest fee at a gym and do three hours of cardio. I used to be so damn skinny, never could gain a pound. Want proof? That’s me, as a 15-year-old, Enfield, N.H., 1980:

3. Go to a movie. Theaters are open here. I miss movie theaters. Or as it is spelled in the Canadian Queen’s English: theatre.

4. Help out at the soup kitchen. There’s one right down the street from me. I would be honored to be in the serving line some night if they’ll have me.

5. Go to Rogers Place and just hang out. I think I’m let out of quarantine Aug. 1. There will be NHL games that night, but I don’t think I’ll be able to get in until the first Avs game, the next day.

  • (Above) Little too tall, coulda used a few pounds right, as Bob Seger would sing? Yeah, I ate like a pig then too. All it did was make me taller. Now? I am much more filled out, let’s put it that way. That look on my face, by the way, certainly did and still does reflect my maturity level.
  • That mangy looking right arm though? It could throw a whiffle ball about 110 mph. Nobody could touch me in whiffle ball. The way the pitches are in this video is exactly what I could also do with the ball. I’m the wiffleball king, I really believe this. With those long arms, too, I could extend that bat pretty far and would take you deep quite often.
  • I’m pretty @$#$$@-ing  nervous about trying the moose meat Friday. I got nothing much to tenderize it beforehand with. No salt in this Airbnb. Salt is a big deal that I stupidly forgot. You know that’s where the word “salary” is derived from, right? And where the saying, “he’s not worth his salt” comes from, right? Soldiers in medieval times were literally paid in salt.
  • I’ll be doing the moose tasting, live on 104.3 The Fan. Probably at about 4:15 or so.
  • I hope I don’t die.


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