Hi everyone everywhere,
Yesterday I turned 59 and it was a quiet day for me. I went for a walk and I sat and thought, and  realized that since my friend Merv passed I’ve been angry. I didn’t know what was going to happen with the house, with me, with Merv’s son. So I realized that I’ve been angry for about six months, and I don’t do anger that well. And I think I was angry because I realized that everything was slipping away in my mind and I was afraid sometimes of the future because I can’t see it. But I know, in reality, it’s time to turn the house over to Merv’s son, and that’s the way it’s supposed to be. It’s time for me to move on, and I’m at peace with that now. I just don’t have any anger left inside. I’m too tired. Merv’s son needs to learn how to live without his father. And that will be hard because he’s a young man. But I think in time everything will be just fine. That’s all.

And now it’s time to close our eyes and our thoughts…and rest.  Until we meet again at Becker’s Farm Supply and Knitting Emporium, right on the corner of Belcher and Flamm. And now…



I woke this morning as I have for a week and when I looked out my window I kept seeing this crow. It didn’t speak.

So I talked to him, and I called him my friend’s name,

and it’s funny, he just sort of turned his head.

It’s funny, it’s almost like a game. I say hello, he just turns his head.

I called him Merv but I could have called him Fred.

It’s funny what loss can do, but when that crow flies I still get some mist in my eyes

and I always remember to say my goodbyes.

To the crow and to my friend.


By jamesghutcheson


Hi everyone everywhere,

What could you say about affection that hasn’t already been said before? But through my eyes, affection becomes something different.  I guess because my sense of view is a bit different now than it was in the old days, so affection is something that I take seriously, and I don’t give unless I really feel it. I’m a very guarded person, and affection is easy to flaunt, but if there’s no meaning behind it why waste your time? So in retrospect, what I’m saying is, holding and caring are beautiful things, and everyone, even me, should have that in their lives. But at this time in my life I do not. I hope that in time I’ll get things rearranged again. But on with the music, that’s what I say. On with the now.

Now it’s time to close our eyes and our thoughts…and rest. Until we meet again at Edna’s Doily Shop and Cigar Emporium, you know, down by Flasher and Second, on the corner by Stew’s house, one know, that one. Now I leave you with a little bit of…



His name is Bill. He is 88 years old and that’s good. He lives at the Glad To Have You retirement home.

The window is  in the “comfort room” as it’s called. But when you have nobody, and hardly any money, the window is the secret.

While the t.v. blares away some mundane repeat of the same original mundane show, Bill is at the window.

The window is the escape, don’t you know. And Bill, well, he could see his past, and maybe sometimes his future.

In his memory though, he is not just some forgotten soul. Bill can remember the stream, the sounds, the smell of autumn. No matter what they say or do, for Bill the window holds enough.


By jamesghutcheson

A Mirror Escape

Hi everyone everywhere,

Today let’s talk about reflections. About reflections that you see and reflections that you are. I believe that as we go through life we look in windows, we look in mirrors, we even look in spoons to see if we’re complete. But it’s funny. In reality the reflection is not your face, it’s actually what you see. So even though you can walk by a million windows, and see yourself every day, every time you look you see a different story. And that’s the kind of reflection I’m talking about. Sometimes I feel, as I look at something, that I can almost see through it. Sometimes when I’m looking at it I analyze (as we all do). But it’s funny, though we analyze everything that we look at, eventually it’s all relevant to one thing: the reflection of ourselves seems to bring us more displeasure than happiness, and it certainly should be the other way. Because all the good people are already beautiful, and the rest…they’ll have to live with that. That’s their reflection.

Before I go, on a local note, I would just like to say that I have listened to the first CD of Thomas Hutlet, a young 19 year old man from Red Deer.  The CD is called White Rose Carpet and the music is a collection of love stories and stories along the way. He’s got a good start and he’s on his way.

Now it’s time to close our eyes and our thoughts and rest. Well, that’s it, until we meet again at Dexter’s Ice Cream and Tree Stand on the corner of Flabber and Dense.



Thump thump tick tock. Thump thump tick tock. She’s getting ready for the race. The race is in three weeks. She’s  been preparing every day, mentally and physically, though at this stage in her life the race is more for her soul than for her heart. It’s not something she has to prove to anyone; it’s something she wants to prove to herself.

Thump thump tick tock. And now the day comes closer, and she thinks, “Can I do this?” Thump thump tick tock. It’s funny; minutes can turn into days when you’re thinking of destiny. Destiny changes. Sometimes as fast as the wind. So she’ll run a race, but she’ll run it the way it was meant to be:  for her. Thump thump tick tock.

Thump thump tick tock.


By jamesghutcheson


You know, it’s funny, memories. You think about things in your past and all those memories build your life, and they express to you and to others who you are. When I had my accident that was the one thing that I was robbed of.

Now at 58, after just losing my best friend of 46 years, I spent two days just sitting out on my deck where I do my writing, trying to remember. And it just didn’t work. It’s hard to believe about someone who had watched your back for 46 years and made sure you were always okay, the only person you ever trusted, and you just can’t remember. So I grieve for the loss of my friend, and for anyone I suppose.

I build memories by playing and writing and I tell Michelle, my editor, everything, and she remembers. And that’s how I keep my memories. She tells them to me.

So the next time you’re feeling lost, close your eyes and walk through your life. Maybe you need changes. Maybe you don’t. Maybe what you’ve done is just fine. Today it’s raining, but tomorrow I’m sure the sun will shine again. That’s it for now.

And now, if only for a moment, close your eyes and your thoughts and rest….



I was on the bus heading west. I guess I thought I’d head down somewhere Saskatchewan way or something, and try to get a job. Well I got there and the job hadn’t quite started yet. And the boss didn’t look very happy to see me anyways. So he says to me, “Why don’t you take a walk and thing about it, and I’ll think about whether I’m going to give you a job or not, and we’ll meet back in an hour.”  And I looked pensively at this man  and I said, “Yeah I’ll take that walk. Is there a coffee shop down the road or anything?” And my new prospective boss says,  “Yeah there’s probably something down the highway.” It was raining, I told you that, right? So there I am, walking.

I start walking toward the coffee shop, the one that I didn’t know  was there or not (and neither did my new boss). He had told me to think about it and I thought, “Hey, I came from Toronto, I was thinking about it the whole way, but sure, thinking about it now, I guess I could give it a little more time.”  So I take that walk down the highway.

It’s raining, I told you that already, but my prospective boss didn’t seem to mind and I guess I don’t either. I’m thinking to myself, “You know, I’m a musician, why do I want to work on a farm anyway, and especially since the guy already doesn’t like me. So  I’m walking and I’m thinking and it’s still raining.

Anyway, I’d walked about a mile when I look down the road and far away I see a sign flapping in the window and  some lights and I think to myself, “That’s got to be the coffee shop.” So I get there and I’m drenched. I’m not feeling so good about anything, especially my prospective boss, but here I am in the coffee shop so I guess I should have some coffee.

As I’m sitting there, a girl comes over to me and she’s got a towel in her hand. And I think, “My god, I’ve won the lottery here.” So I thank this girl, and she says, “You look like you’re lost.” So I looked at here and I said, “Well I’m not lost but I’m looking for a job and I may be a farmer.” And she says, “You don’t look much like a farmer. What do you know about farming?” And I said, “Nothing.” And she said, “You know, I have a friend sitting over there having coffee who’s got a band. What do you play?” ” I’m a drummer”, I told her. And she said, “You know, my friend’s band is looking for a drummer. No kidding.”  So I looked at her and I said, “I’d be happy to join you.” So I walked over and sat with these guys and they tell me their band is called The Rejuventors and they do blues and jazz, and they have a beautiful female singer whom I’ve already met named Rachel.

The leader of the band says to me,  “Look we’re heading out, we need a drummer, and we need to know if you’re qualified. Are you a good drummer, really?” And I said, “Are you a good band?”, and he says, “Most definitely. We lost our drummer yesterday; he was in a bad car accident and he won’t be back for at least a year. We are leaving in ten minutes, heading to play a show in Calgary.”  So I looked at them, and this is where the thinking part came in, and I said “Yes I will come with you, but I have one thing to do. Can you give me half an hour?” And so there I was on the highway walking in the rain again back to see my prospective boss one last time. As I approached him he was snarling again.  And I thought,  “You know, I don’t think farming’s for me.” So I told my prospective boss thanks but no thanks. I think I’ve been offered something a little more to my liking, and I went to shake his hand. He wouldn’t shake mine. That’s when I knew I’d made the right decision.  I turned and went out in the rain to walk to my new destiny.


By jamesghutcheson