Hello everyone, everywhere,

This week has been uplifting. The music has hit a place that it has never been before. When I left the studio today I bowed to everyone and told them that I was humbled by their performances. The dream that I had in the beginning for this band is finally starting to evolve. I guess we had to grow as people and as musicians to get us to the place we are in now. It’s a very good starting point.

Other than that, I have had more than my share of difficulties with a few things this weekend. My humidifier needs to be fixed and I’m working on it. There’s just one little piece that I can’t hold with my stupid hands. Luckily Dean’s coming to help me. We’ll fix it and I’ll be happy again.

I’m hoping this weather clears up a bit, but in the meantime, everybody I know, including me, is just laughing our heads off because we’ve got nothing better to do. We know the spring weather is coming so until it gets here we’ll keep laughing.

And now it’s time to close our eyes and our thoughts, if only for a moment…and rest.


It was late in the afternoon on a Thursday. There was really no one in the place. Outside it was raining cats and dogs, as they’d say. People were covering their heads with anything they could find and scurrying as fast as they could to go where they had to be.  She was working when he sauntered in. He looked, well, like a man would look who had only hindsight about carrying an umbrella. She gazed up from what she was doing, saw this fellow looking like a drowned rat, and laughed. He wasn’t sure what to do, so he laughed too.

“Sit down, buddy. Do you want a coffee? You look like you need to dry off,” she said.

He smiled and said, “Coffee sounds just right. Thank you”.

I must have caught the right moment because she smiled back, he thought.

He sat at the counter for more than two hours. Customers came and went but those two kept talking. They had both walked through a lot of life, you could tell. Eventually, it was time to leave back into the obscure. As he paid up he blushed as he asked her, “Are you…I mean..I was wondering..um…do you work tomorrow?”

She blushed as well and said, “Oh I’m off…but I’m sure I have a lot to do or…um..okay well I work Saturday morning if you’re thinking about coming back.”

He smiled and said, “Yeah I’m off tomorrow but…uh…you know, things to do…uh…I don’t know…yes, Saturday morning feels just perfect.”

I guess two lonely people just found each other.

That’s all.


By jamesghutcheson


Hello everyone everywhere,

I have spent this week really working hard to dig this piece out of my brain. Thankfully I have Michelle as my partner and she always helps me to get it right. You know, Stephen King once said that a good editor is everything, and I concur. I was so fortunate to find Michelle and have her in my life as my partner in this adventure. It takes her out of her comfort zone and it certainly takes me out of mine.

I never used to talk about myself and I think that has always been a problem. But lately, I’ve been sharing pieces of my life with you people because it just seems right to do it at this point in my journey. I certainly haven’t told you all of it, and I won’t until I’m ready, but for now I’m really glad that all of you everywhere are on this journey with me. When I see that people all over the world are reading my work I’m always humbled, yet very happy to know that it’s slowly getting out there.

And now it’s time to close our eyes and our thoughts, if only for a moment…and rest. Tonight’s tale is a true story and I’ll leave the rest up to you to figure out.


A True Story

This story starts with a seven-year-old boy named Eddie Swanson. Eddie was a going concern; let’s just leave it at that.

One Saturday morning Eddie got new moccasin boots. He loved to run in those boots–he ran like the wind. That winter morning he and his buddies were going to the Niagra Golf Course in Winnipeg to spend the day having adventures in the snow. Now to get to this place of adventure they had to deal with St. Anne’s Road. This was 1962 but traffic was still pretty busy then; not as busy as it is now, but pretty much steady. And the cars were all made of steel so you had to be really careful and really quick to get across. But because Eddie and his gang had done it so many times were really good at it.

Eddie and his gang spent the day running, rolling down the hills, and playing hide and seek. As the afternoon went on it started to snow and that made it even more fun. Then it started to snow really hard and the boys were starting to lose each other so they thought they’d better get going.

They got to St Anne’s Road and Eddie, being the adventurous one of the gang (and probably the dumbest), could not see either way down the road. It was a complete white-out. So Eddie figured it would be a good time to head across. I don’t know if he got two feet, but that was the last thing Eddie remembered until he woke up in a hospital bed all by himself. Eventually, somebody came and told him that he had been hit by a car. It had knocked him in the air and he landed on some rocks. Eddie checked and nothing was broken although he had a pretty bad headache and his leg was sure sore. When he got home, Eddie’s loving parents said, “What were you doing crossing St. Anne’s Road in a snowstorm? Are you crazy?”

Eddie’s only reply was, “I thought for sure I was going to make it!”

 The moral of this story is…if you can’t see across the street then don’t cross the damn thing.

That’s all.


By jamesghutcheson


Hello everyone, everywhere,

It’s been a very quiet week for me. I’ve had time to try to rest and do some more writing. I think sometimes I get lost in myself because when I open my eyes and look around I’m so unguarded that I fear to close my eyes sometimes. The reality is that most of my friends are gone and I find myself confused sometimes about what direction I’m going to take. It’s sad to say that I find comfort in a vision of reality, which sets up tonight’s story that life is more than but a dream. The vision I see is a little boy standing on a highway all by himself. There’s no sound but the wind.

When I was standing on that highway all those many years ago, I used to close my eyes and wonder where I was going.  I believe there’s still magic in the world somewhere. So I felt today that I needed to go back to where I first found my strength. My fight began in a hospital bed as I laid there as alone as I am now.  I think of those children fighting so hard and I want them to know that there is someone looking over them now and forever.

And now it’s time to close our eyes and our thoughts, if only for a moment…and rest. I would like to bring a little magic to every little soul in every hospital bed. This is for you, and you, and you. That’s it.

Thank you to…let’s call her Haylee. That’s it.


It all began with a lovely thought.

A little old man sat on a bench. A cool wind was snapping; everyone around him couldn’t get away from that wind fast enough. Night approached and the lights started turning on in the darkening sky.

The day before you see, this little old man, Mr. William A. Forthryte, took a package of crayons and paper to the children’s ward at the hospital, the same hospital that his wife Ellen had been in for so long. As often happened, as William made his way out, he took the wrong hallway. He walked toward the end of the hall to try to find the elevator, and as he went, he saw all the little people in their hospital beds. There were children with no hair, some with missing parts, and some just had a strange colour. Just a thought…keep going…more beds with little faces looking back at him.

He had almost made it to the end of the hall when he felt a need to look to this left. And there he looked into a smile so bright that he almost had to close his eyes.  The child waved to him and he felt like he had been hit by a truck. The child’s mother was sleeping on a cot next to her. And then William A. Forthryte had an idea.

When he was a young man a long long time ago, he went to the annual fair. And at this fair there was a fortune teller, a very old woman with a scary face and lots of chains and bracelets on her arms. William was curious, so he went to have his fortune told. Now most of that stuff was just for fun but William listened, and like any eleven-year-old would, he started to believe. 

The fortune teller looked in his eyes and said, “Young man, I see something special in you. I also see you have something special to take care of. Take this pouch and everything will be fine.”

Eyes wide open, William said, “What is in this pouch you gave me? The powder is moving inside it.”

The woman replied, “Put it away safe. One day you will use it. Magic is what you’ll see.”

Young William put the pouch in his pocket and when he looked up the woman was gone. He went home and threw the pouch in the back of his sock drawer. And there it stayed for many years.

Now William finds himself thinking about that little face and that wave. William is a man whose dreams were pushed aside, for survival was the call of the day. He had been alone longer than anyone should be.  But it’s funny how one glance into the eyes of an angel can change a man forever.

William went to his one-room apartment downtown–always busy, always noisy. He went to his old dresser and opened that sock drawer, and just like that, he reached in and pulled out the pouch of magic dust.

 The next day he put the pouch in his pocket and went to the park across the street from the hospital where he sat on his favourite bench. He was so tired, but he knew it was almost time to go. He took the pouch out of his pocket and held it up with his shaky old hands.  He took the magic dust, looked way up, and said, “Magic dust, magic dust, work one time. One time work. One time, please work.” And he threw it to the sky and the stars.

Sometimes magic really happens. And when William opened his eyes, there they were, all the children, dancing in the wind, without a care or worry.

A fantasy? Maybe. But as they faded into the sky, William closed his eyes and said, “Good night.”

That’s all.


By jamesghutcheson


Hello everyone, everywhere,

This week’s been different. I keep finding the music more and more electrifying each time I go to the room. There’s something happening there.

On another note, I have made it through the plague one again. I don’t know who keeps sending all this crap to my system, but man oh man it’s hard to fight. But I’ve decided that you just never ever give up. So I don’t. And that’s what I’m telling you. If it’s good enough for me, it’s good enough for you.

Michelle and Dean are doing well. Dean is quite an extraordinary man. He called me family once and I’ve never forgotten that. Anyways, life goes on.

Michelle told me I have to start cheering up. Well, I’m always up for a good one so I wrote this little tale for you all. Maybe I wrote it for me.

That’s it.

And now it’s time to close our eyes and our thoughts, if only for a moment…and rest. Tonight’s tale is about five kids, some kites, and a wheelchair. Enjoy.



It all started on a field. There were five friends; eleven or twelve years old. School chums, you see.  It was a spectacular spring morning, the kind of morning that just…hugs you. Flowers were growing, trees showing off new leaves. If you closed your eyes, the breeze took you back to Mom’s fresh laundry swaying on the line. It was a glorious time to send a kite soaring in the wind.

So on that nice spring day, the kids, all five of them, decided that they would fly kites. Oh, what an extraordinary time they planned. And off they went.

As they ran around the field, the sun opened wide and the wind…well it all just seemed right. How they moved, the five of them.  Running, falling, and laughing–yes, always laughing.

Suddenly, one of the boys looked down the field and saw the sun pinging off a wheelchair with a kid in it. This boy said to his guys, “Did you see the light dance on that kid’s wheelchair? I think it’s magic!”

His friends looked at him and said, “Oh, don’t bother him. He’s broken.”

And so, on they played. The little guy stood watching his friends and yet…down the field. In a moment, yes that’s all it took for this little guy to feel something he had never felt before. He pulled the string of his kite, gazed at everything, then with nothing more than a feeling, started walking down the field towards the broken boy. The little fellow kept walking until the two of them were sort of face to face. The kid in the chair was bent funny. The little fellow bent his head and said, “My name is James G. Are you broken?”

The kid in the chair lifted his head and said, “No, I’m Bob.”

James G said, “Bob, this is my kite. I will help you hold it and together we can watch it fly.”

And then there were two.

That’s all.


By jamesghutcheson



Hello everyone, everywhere,

This week has been calm, which is extraordinary in itself.  The music has been awesome. It’s fun to go back, and that’s really good because I think I’d lost that for a long time. But now I’m really enjoying myself. I’m so proud of Daniel who has produced incredible music for the last month. That’s what he and I both wanted from him, and it’s working.

Some days I feel like I can’t close my hand but I never tell anybody because I have to do what I do. I write and I’m a drummer. It just happens that I’m left-handed and it’s my left hand that’s the problem.  But I’ve found people who make my life better and help me deal with all the pain: Alisa my massage therapist, Laura my physiotherapist, Suzanne my reflexologist, Dwayne my chiro, and Doc C who watches out for everything. Of course, I always have Michelle and Dean; together they’re invincible so they make me feel invincible.

There are always reasons someone might need all of these people. It’s unfortunate that I know these angels only as people taking care of me because it always reminds me that I need a lot of work done. That’s it.

And now it’s time to close our eyes and our thoughts, if only for a moment…and rest.



It seems like yesterday yet it has been many years. The streets I grew up on changed. My life, different in the blink of an eye. I made choices in the thunder and the rain. As a husband: usually wrong, settled for, in obscurity. I must have failed a lot of people in that last life. Very quiet…okay then.

One door–oh you know what I mean. Even though I’ve had to crawl my way back, now I carry myself with pride. My memories were taken so I learned to look ahead.

Clock is ticking–only I am here to hear it. Doubts? Doubts are what push me. No one there? I talk to myself. Not great, but it works. Even though I know I’m talking to the wind I’m just saying, well…fuck it. Time to move on.

That’s all.


By jamesghutcheson


Hello everyone everywhere,

This has been a good week The music’s been spectacular and everyone is in a good zone. Michelle is fighting like crazy but still has no answers and that sucks. Dean’s good.

I want everyone to understand that no matter what your issues there’s always hope. Gone is forever, so I implore anyone who is going through difficulties to remember that you’re never truly alone. There’s always someone. Remember that.

Okay, so I’ve told you as much as I can. I’ll let the story tell you the rest.

And now it’s time to close our eyes and our thoughts, if only for a moment…and rest.



It was a cold winter night; it seems as though that’s good weather for falling apart. And to say Tindal McPhee was confused that night would be an understatement.

Tindal had been in a hell of a bang up. They said it was a terrible two-car crash, only Tindal, well with all that was going on he forgot to bring a car. At first he was gone, but a few days later he came back the best he could. He spent months in a dead soul.

Eventually, Tindal left one nightmare behind, but there was so much more to come. He left the hospital five months into an undiagnosed severe brain injury with no doctor and no proper meds. The whole story of that time can be left untold for now.

Now to that night. Tindal was alone. (Who would be there? He’d gone crazy!) What brought him to that dark cold place in his heart and head he wasn’t sure. But he hobbled over to where he had hung his blood-soaked coat, and as he took the sight in, he wanted to go to a place where there was no more pain.

It was funny how intense his journey already was, but it had only begun, even though Tindal didn’t yet know it.

One more time he cheated death.

He sat on the floor for what seemed like hours until finally, he said, “I can never ever give up again.”

To this day, he never has.

 That’s all.


By jamesghutcheson


Hello everyone, everywhere,

I don’t have any children but I like to write about them. I see kids with their parents and when they do something funny I laugh to myself and I remember. And then I turn it into my world.

I can only imagine how exhausting it must be to try to teach your children about the world today.  It’s hard to find answers in a world that changes day by day. And everybody keeps dancing to the fool on the hill.

I think if I had children I would tell them to be smart, to be cautious, to listen to the music in the wind, but for God’s sake, be happy. And I would say, “You’re bigger so you protect the smaller.”

But what the hell do I know?

I thought that tonight I would write a little something about a boy who grows into a man in a day. I hope you enjoy it. That’s it.

And now it’s time to close our eyes and our thoughts, if only for a moment…and rest.



The sky is black, yet it is only 5:30 p.m. as I take to the hills looking for adventure. Will I pounce on a tiger? No, no tiger. Maybe a giant is in the woods. (I think now, the woods is a good place to leave a giant). But I am eleven and I can’t be stopped.

I move carefully, like a black panther. Yes, that will work for me. As I stealthily make my way to the waterfall I hear singing. I crouch, shaking only a little, my eyes round and wide as I peer through the last bush I can find. And there is a beautiful older woman–she could be thirty. It doesn’t matter to me; you see that, right? She has a blanket around her with a star on the back and she looks like she is calling to the moon.

Things might have changed since then. But that night an eleven-year-old man watched a princess dance.

That’s all.


By jamesghutcheson


Hello everyone, everywhere,

Let’s get all the niceties out. The music’s wonderful. Michelle is fighting hard. And I guess that’s what this thing is all about–it’s about understanding something else.

You know, I’ve had some bad things happen to me, but this time it was just exhaustion. I had not been feeling all that well for a few days and I played too hard. The good news is that I went to practice today and there were new mikes for the drums. So next time I won’t have to kill myself and play as hard.

This story tells the tale of what happened.

And now it’s time to close our eyes and our thoughts if only for a moment…and rest.



This tale takes you with me on a journey to the other side.

I had played a concert in the afternoon and it was good.  And it seemed that as fast as it started it was over, the equipment was getting pulled off the stage, and my job was done. I gave it everything…and more; played harder than I should.

Home–hadn’t been feeling my best. Two beers in the fridge. It’s Friday! It was six p.m. and I was exhausted. Had to sleep. So sleep I did, for sixteen hours.

The scene is set. Now the drama begins.

For those of you who wonder, I have a very serious brain injury. But I am high-functioning–in fact, you would never know unless you spent time with me or I told you. Ever since I went down in my accident, sometimes I let my mind go. Well, I spent a day and a half with my passed-on brother Merv.

We were sitting, talking, and answering each other in the gray. I told him I was getting worn out and he looked at me and said, “It has always been hard for you. Like you never really had anything, but now you do.”

That’s all.


By jamesghutcheson


Hello everyone, everywhere,

I was lost for something to write this week but the other day I was looking out my big glass doors and saw this beautiful sea of birds just dancing in the wind. I always think that my brother Merv is a bird. I like to look at the sky and think about how he’s flying around out there. Losing him inspired me to fight even harder than I did before, but I really miss his guidance. I just miss him a lot, because that’s what brothers do.

That’s it.



Oh, what a time they are had! I watched them land in the sunlight on a majestic tree right outside my castle, so close that I could almost touch them as they chatted. It was a beautiful cool day in January.  Each had a branch and they danced in perfect harmony as the wind played music. And they were very polite. It made me happy. Because a birthday approaches.

What lasted twenty minutes will be in my heart forever. Awesome doesn’t really grasp it. Everyone was there…and then Merv flew over.

When the blue turned to gray and they had all flown away, only one stayed. He and I just stared at each other. Finally, he too took to the sky and I just yelled, “Fly my brother, fly!”

That’s all.


By jamesghutcheson


Hello everyone, everywhere,

I’ll get the pleasantries over with first. The music’s great. Michelle and Dean are doing the best they can. And Mama B is still happy.

Anyways, tonight I want to talk about exhaustion–mental and physical exhaustion. You know, today is supposed to be the saddest day of the year but that’s actually coming later in the week on Friday. I believe that 2016 kicked the crap out of everybody and if that’ s just the beginning then it’s going to be quite a ride in 2017.  When I look in that man’s eyes I feel no peace in my heart, only worry.

Between that and a really crappy winter it’s been hard enough on anybody, but on people like me, it’s been an ass kicker. And it’s only half over. I try to look at life every day as a blessing and I try to smile. Some days are harder than others because I’m tired of smiling and hoping that someone will smile back. I always know who’s lying to me, no matter what mask they wear. I guess that this leads up to what I wrote about tonight.

And now it’s time to close our eyes and our thoughts, if only for a moment…and rest.



Oh yes, I am tired. Fifty years on the road tired. You know, that tired that won’t let you rest. Dreams come; reality washes all of that away.

When I was a young boy I saw these men and women with tired eyes and leathered skin. To me, it was an awakening in my mind. Work hard. Never mind about yourself. Those were the words of wisdom a long time ago. There’s plenty of time for that later. That was the tagline I was raised on.

All these years have passed. Things have been started, some finished. It matters not. I have pushed so hard, so long, alone. There is an ache inside of me that will never be fixed. So pardon me, everyone, everywhere. I just need a few minutes. I am very tired.

That’s all.


By jamesghutcheson