Hockey Night In Canada without Ron MacLean? Say it ain't so... It just won't feel right having someone else spewing hockey banter with Don Cherry on our Saturday nights. It'll sort of be like a new pair of glasses that cuts at your earlobes; you need time to adjust to them, and they need time to adjust to you. I'm sure people felt exactly the same way when Foster Hewitt climbed down from the gondola for the last time; the show will go on and still be cherished, but it will never be like the classic days. I don't think anyone else can come up with on-the-spot puns like "You don't play for pay at the Olympics, but for a good effort, the Canadians will receive their Czechs on Friday."

Decaffeinated just doesn't cut it.

If Mississauga Transit ever wants to shed itself of the worst-transit-system-ever label, it should get a fleet of these. I wouldn't mind having one myself. It's about time someone made a flying car that put commercial viability on the horizon.

Another successful ball hockey game tonight; I'm getting better every game. This time we played a quick and agile team, but I put on a stellar show and finished one goal shy of a shutout - that goal from a giveaway with 10 minutes left. So after a horrendous first game, two quality performances drop my GAA to 4.00, and I will need a shutout next week to knock down to my original aim of 3.00.

After seeing King Lear in Stratford yesterday, we have determined that one of the greatest and most graphic lines in Shakespeare's plays is "vile jelly".

Just for a twist of fun, you can now rate this site.

Last night I saw a whole group of famous people in the flesh. I met Atlantic Guy, CanAm Steve, and Kathleen of CWD fame, and on my way to meet them I saw the Queen of England. We chatted, drank, and played with my monkey. Meanwhile, we witnessed the Leafs' wondrous season opener, and an excellent start for the new netminder, Eddie the Eagle.

Now I get to enjoy a four-day weekend. Woo hoo!

I returned to the school-land yesterday to partake in the yearly Oktoberfest celebration. God bless the Germans for creating a festival dedicated to beer.

Really, that's all Oktoberfest is: an excuse to drink beer and sing loud obnoxious songs on the bus ride home. Not that I have a problem with that, or anything, but it amuses me.

It also gave me a chance to see some good friends and finally hand off a gift I have been holding for three months.

A bad day in hockey land. On my way to the ball hockey game, the "Check Engine" light on our poor little 11-year-old Escort turned on and wouldn't turn off, so I had to crawl it back home at a snail's pace and miss my game, leaving the rest of my team wondering where I was and drawing straws to replace me.

So, while the car sat in the garage like a whining child that stubbed its toe, I instead watched the Leaf game on TV, and figured my under-manned ball hockey team was likely playing considerably better than the Leafs at that particular moment. Considering the skill on that team - not to mention the money that's being spent on them - there's no excuse for that pathetic performance. They'd best get their act together ASAP, lest they become a very expensive disappointment.

Today's Quote of the Day comes from Scott Feschuk of the National Post:
This may look like Winona Ryder, but it's actually the [Kansas City] Chiefs' defence. "Hey boys," they wink. "You can score here."

A very interesting thought on spirituality from William Peter Blatty, authour of The Exorcist: "Never in the course of human history has nature...imbued upon man or even animal a desire for something which is unattainable. If there is thirst, you know there is water somewhere; if there's hunger, there's food."

Wisdom can come from the most unusual places, even the subway. A poem I read on a TTC subway ad once went something like this: "The boy, aged 8, looked at the baby and said 'What he thinks must be pure thought, because he doesn't have the words to describe it yet.' Then, the friends and family who had come to look at the baby, looked at the baby again."

First, it was Michael Jackson's Thriller.

I was four or five years old when I first saw the video to Thriller, and when the werewolf appeared I ran and cowered behind a cupboard in fright. I had trouble sleeping for two or three nights.

Then, there was an article I read about black widow spiders, and I was afraid to turn out the lights in fear of creepy crawlies approaching in my sleep. Then came tales of ouija boards, spirits, and demons, and I hid under the covers wary of the entities invading my room.

But, I'm much older and seasoned now. The spirits fear passed, I squish spiders with little thought, and I laugh at the plasticy werewolf costume in the video MuchMusic replays every Hallowe'en. I know how shows and movies are made, we pick them to pieces, and none of it scares me anymore.

Then we watched "The Ring". I have not been that scared in years. "The Exorcist" was a hack; "Scream" was a comedy; "The Others" was merely creepy; thrasher flicks are tasteless gore. "The Ring" had me tossing my cheesies. I'm a 24-year-old man, and I'm sitting in my room at 1:30 in the morning with all the lights on because I'm afraid of what my dreams will be like.

Go watch the movie. One reason is because it's a good fright. The main reason for spreading the word, however... you'll understand when you see the end.