Somewhere In Vancouver, On A Back Porch In July

Hey, David Lemieux. Whatcha doing?

“Enjoying the glorious Canadian summer.”

I can see that.

“Friday is Thigh Day at the Lemieux cottage.”

I can see those, too.

“We’ve been out here for a fortweek.”

Fortweek?

“I believe you Americans call them ‘months.’ Am I pronouncing that right?”

I’m ignoring your obvious bait.

“It’s blistering out here, eh? Almost 22 degrees.”

That’s really cold, Dave.

“David. And I meant Celsius.”

…

That’s only 71 degrees.

“You had to ask your phone, didn’t you?”

Don’t worry about that. Like I was saying: 71 is not hot at all. It’s 90 here.

“Right. But how cold does it get in the winter where you live?”

Gets down to around 71.

“There you go. It gets chilly here, so our internal thermometers are set lower. Last year in Winnipeg, it got so cold that a Bose-Einstein Condensate formed in a Tim Hortons.”

Sure. Hey, the new box set is coming out tomorrow.

“Yeah, and it’s got some of the most beautiful artwork and design we’ve ever done. I think it’s up there with the Europe ’72 trunk.”

That’s a bold claim, DL.

“I make it! I make it and I stand by it! You calling me a liar!?”

Hey, hey, hey! Settle down! What’s gotten into you?

“Ah, I’m sorry. Been drinking a bit. Had a couple bags of beer.”

I thought you kept your milk in bags.

“All Canadian fluids are bagged: milk, beer, brake fluid, all of it.”

Not true.

“Oh, yeah. Law just passed. Prime Minister DBP signed it a couple fortweeks ago.”

DBP?

“Dumb But Pretty.”

Not inaccurate. Family enjoying the cottage?

“My wife, Regina, and our children Gordie, Girl Gordie, Jean-Luc, Northstar, Fleece, and the twins Billi and Micki?”

Yeah. Your family.

“They love it. We go on nature hikes every day. All the children have fought their moose. A perfect summer.”

What about the moose?

“Each summer, every Canadian child must fight a moose. They don’t have to win, but they have to put in a good showing. You should’ve seen Fleece: he bit the sucker on its nose, wrapped his skinny legs around the antlers, and held on until the beast got tired. And then he took his knife out of his pocket and held it up to the moose’s eye. But you know what he did?”

What?

“Put the knife back in his pocket. Fleece just wanted it to know he was in charge. Hell of a boy right there.”

None of this happened.

“Both Gordies got living shit stomped out of ’em, though. But they didn’t run, so I was still proud and they won’t be cast out of society.”

Nope. Nuh-uh.

“DAD!”

“DAD!”

“Yeah, Billi? Yeah, Micki?”

“THE WIND!”

“IT”S PICKING UP!”

“Oh, that’s my cue. Got a video to make. Thanks for stopping by, eh?”

It’s usually my call when these end.

…

Wow, he really left.

“YOU CAN JUST LEAVE? HOW DID HE DO THAT?”

Oh, why are you here?

“How the fuck did he just walk out of the post?”

I dunno.

…

Don’t hunt down David Lemieux–

“I will hunt down David Lemieux and make him my sensei.”

–and make him your…dammit, John, that’s just stupid.

“All of this is stupid.”

Good point. Go get him, tiger.