Hello everyone, everywhere,

Well, here we go. It’s almost Christmas.

I hope everybody’s got all they’ve got to get. I have to iron my pants. I don’t have an iron. So I went to Michelle’s with my pants.

Michelle said, “You don’t want to wear a suit on the plane.”

I said, “I don’t?…I mean, you’re right.”

Michelle said, “Why don’t you take your pants and press them at your sister’s?”

I said, “Hmm, welcome to the 21st century.” Good thinking Michelle, once again.

So ho ho ho to all of you.  A new blog will be coming in the new year, maybe a couple days late due to the festivities (a.k.a. me finding my way home and all that).

2015 is going to be a ball buster. We’re going to have a lot of fun. I’m going to write a lot of stuff, and I’m going to publish. Oh yeah, I’ll be looking for a publisher.

Okay well, I guess that’s it. The lights are on, the drinks are full, and I’m in the wrong bloody house again. I thought it was my aunt’s. Apparently it’s the neighbour’s. She doesn’t know me at all. But we had tea.

And now it’s time to close our eyes and our thougts… and rest. Until we meet again at Arnie and Edna’s New and Used and Fine China Emporium on the corner of Chester Avenue and Bester Street. You know, right around the corner from where Ned stashes his moonshine. (Oops, sorry Ned)!


Man Walking

You know, it’s funny. I went home for the holidays and as I was walking down those old streets I could hear the voices of all my friends. Most of them are gone. I truly don’t know how I’ve managed to hang on this long living the life I have, but I sincerely believe that I’ve just got to keep going. No matter what, I always wake up smiling.

Now I’m walking down the street and I’m trying so hard to remember my freinds and what we did. But unfortunately I really can’t because I suffered an injury that left me whole except for my memories. I guess you’ve got to lose something in an accident, right?

And so I make the memories up and dream how they would be, and once in awhile, just once in a while, the real thing pops in my head. And I laugh and I remember.  I always just keep walking with my memories, because I think maybe one day I might just remember the damn things. That’s all.


By jamesghutcheson


Hello everyone, everywhere,

This time of year it seems there’s just no resting. Everybody is on the go. These holidays drag you out. And me, I’m trying to get my voice back. It’s almost back.

This has been a funny year, when I think about it. Well, not funny ha ha, but…different. In the scope of a year my best friend died, I’ve got to sell my house, I quit smoking, and I am very excited about the future, though I have no idea what that is. As I live day to day I cannot see far enough ahead, so I deal with each day and that’s how I get through. Day by day. I surround myself with positive people and I look for people everywhere who are happy. If I see someone standing there, and they look lost, (you know how people are), I have no problem walking up to them and saying, “Hello. How is your day?” It doesn’t take much effort. I think it’s called being human.

Anyways, Michelle and I both have colds. We’re trying to smile, so I think this is it until next week.

Until we meet again at Sid and Cherise Plumb’s Day Care and Mud Wrestling Emporium at the corner of Darn Street and Stitch Avenue, I’ll leave you with a little story called….



Debbie Fibbin grew up in a beautiful town of more than 3,500 people. She called Sheldean Flats home.

When she was little, she was more boy than girl. You know, think eureeka! Tomboy.  That’s the word, tomboy. All right though, thinking back I think that word was more of a slogan. That matters not. It was just a moment.

Debbie Fibbin is much older now. Two bad marriages. Saw the farm go.

But Main Street. It was exciting when you were small, but growing up came with great responsibilities.

It was Thursday morning. Not unlike any other Thursday. I guess unlike any other Thursday because Debbie found herself on Main Street all right. Pause for a second. Smell the fading history.

That’s what Debbie Fibbin did as she found herself looking through the old fence boarding. The fence boarding of Walt Zebber’s closed down drugstore. To watch the people of Sheldean Flats. To remininse with a glance or two. How the lights would skirt across those shiny sidewalks. And everyone, I mean well, most everyone, took great pride as they strutted and scurried, just to make it mean something.

Now in reality Debbie Fibbin knows it’s all gone. Don’t get the idea it’s finished. That’s wrong. It’s only tired, this old town of ours. Close your eyes and ears for just a second. I mean, slow down a bit. There, you’ve got it. When Debbie Fibbin does that, she sees in her eyes and hears in her head, the past needs to be just that. The infinity of today and then…

I guess it all comes down to, it’s funny what you see when you think.


By jamesghutcheson


Hello everyone, everywhere,
This week has been quite incredible. I went to the doctor; I’ve got a bad chest cold. He put me on the puffer and that scares me. I don’t smoke, for sure. Anyways, that’s that.

I just want to talk about the people around me. I go and play in the morning, three times a week in a studio with the most incredible musicians I’ve ever known. The focus is so strong, I’m weary from the joy it gives me.

And the people. I have always fought alone. I have made many wrong choices in my life and now I’m trying my best to be a good man. I’m not sure what that is, but Michelle keeps me in line.
I want to thank the people who have kept me safe and loved me. There’s Michelle and Dean, and the band of course. There’s Alisa my therapist who keeps me going so I can continue to do the things that I do.  Of course my family, Susan and Kelsey. And there’s Vinny, Tina, and you know, them and them and the others. It’s all good.

My website has almost 20,000 hits in less than two years and I’ve self-published five pieces. And you’ve got them. You can read them. And I’m doing this because it just seems my soul has these words that have to come out. So Michelle and I do it. I spit out the words and she makes it a story.

That’s it for now. Until we meet again at Frank and Frannie Stump’s Fine China and Bowling Alley Emporium on the corner of Flat Avenue and Broke Street.

Tonight the words I’m giving you are for my brother Merv. It’s just a little Christmas story that I thought I would tell because I think it’s the way it happened when we were kids. This tale is called….



I lost my best friend. My brother, you see.

And now there is only me.

When we were little boys we would run around and make lots of noise.

Kick dirt, throw stones at walls, or even hit a pole.

In the winter we would jump and play,

Throw snowballs and I guess just dream away.

Then the snow would start to fall,

And darkness and stars began to call.

Now almost 50 years later, the stars come out

And day goes grey,

And I remember, though you have gone away,

I’m only broken but here I will stay,

To watch over your son, because can’t you see,

You are my brother, so this now is my destiny.

That’s all.


By jamesghutcheson


Hello everyone, everywhere,

Today we’re going to talk about the kids who don’t have a father, or maybe a mother. And I want you to know that because I’m dealing with it in my own family, I certainly feel for you children. But the beauty is that you are here and every day you smile and carry on; you carry the legacy of your father or mother with you for all time. The lights never go out in memory town, and the songs are all good. So this Christmas, though maybe tough, somebody may be sick, or hurt, or gone, remember they need you more now than they every needed you before. You be strong, but be human. You must always remember: be kind to yourself or you’ll never be kind to anyone else. That’s all.

And now it’s time to close our eyes…and rest. Until we meet again at Bev and Benny’s Fine China and Tire Shop on the corner of  Black Street and White Avenue. You know, right around the corner from Ned’s Greenhouse.


Christmas Couple

Well, it was a cold night in old Toogood Mountain. Yep, you could feel the season coming on. Snowing, blowing. But everybody was fine. Christmas was in the air. Everybody was talking.

Not too many people lived out in Toogood Mountain. There was Abe and Fiona Cornswell. They lived at the bottom of the mountain. And then of course there was Rigley and Betty Stout. The Stouts lived about halfway up the mountain. And there were a couple more families, them and them and those guys,…you know.

But anyways, this is Margie and Slim Flagger’s story. This is about their little Christmas. Now they didn’t have much, those two. And they were pretty old. No kids, just an old dog named Flett. He didn’t do much. But he had ears and a tail so they called him a dog.

Margie and Slim decided they were going to go together to get their Christmas tree. Now loved each other, they did. But working together, not so good. Slim said, “We’ll go to town and we’ll get us a nice fir. That will look good.” But all of a sudden Margie was there, and she was saying, “No, I don’t think so. I’m thinking a little green one. ” Slim said to Margie, “They’re all green, honey. Except this blue fir that I want.” So Margie said, “Fine, we’ll do it your way”.

As they walked towards the trees, Slim knew that there would be no fir tree because he knew that doing it his way was only going to get him in trouble. Now Margie was a little woman, but she was feisty. And as they walked through the trees, this wonderland of beauty overtook them and Slim said, “I see the tree I want already.” But Margie said, “I think we’ll look around.” Slim thought to himself, “This is not going well.”

Two and a half hours later, Margie found her tree. It was not even close to what Slim was looking for, but he knew that was the tree they were getting.

You see, folks, sometimes to have a merry Christmas, and a good one, you’ve got to do what’s right. And gentlemen, what’s right is, don’t think, just respond. That’s all.


By jamesghutcheson