Green Days, GibbyHawks and Damned Yankees

Election day around the bend and it looks as if I'm going to vote Green this time, based purely on the process of elimination. The local Liberal candidate is a tinhorn with the intellect of George Dubya Bush and the moral compass of Dick Cheney. A vote for the PC guy is a vote for John Tory, whom I suspect is Mike Harris in a faith-based sheep's clothing. And the NDP candidate is apprently okay with the Indians holding the town of Caledonia hostage while a useless police force sits in their cruisers, slopping back Tim Horton's coffee like hogs at a trough - that is, if hogs were eligible for huge overtime cheques. So - it's the Greens for me - in the hopes that in the future a candidate will appear who is electable yet not despicable.

The annual GibbyHawk charity golf tournament was held on Thanksgiving weekend (that would be the Canadian Thanksgiving). The tournament - a memorial for Don Gibson and Frank Bird - is now 14 years and running. I fear it has lost its focus - and its raison d'etre - from time to time, but it remains a good thing at its heart. Essentially it is a 6 or 7 hour orgy of camaraderie and bad golf shots and the re-acquainting of old friends. The GibbyHawk continues to provide thousands of dollars of support to the community. Initially supporting minor sports in the main, in recent years it has focused more on bursaries and additional financial help for students moving on to college and university. This year it will also help a young accident victim become mobile once again.

The Yankees est mort, and so is CB. The Yanks shall rise again.

Go Indians Go.