Back in Canada.

I just wanted to say HOLLER to all my people. We're back in Montreal now. Kathryn and I came back to a foot and a half of snow and blistering cold weather. Thanks fronts. Specifically cold fronts.

We had a great week with everyone even though it was a whirlwind. Too little time, too many people I love to see, and too much food that I didn't get to eat. One person I didn't get to see enough that I really wanted to spend more time with was Tim and here I publicly apologize to him. Also I have about 30 cousins and aunts and uncles and one grandma that I didn't get to see... So to everyone I MISS YOU and please understand.

Now with that all out of the way, I just want to say that I have the coolest parents ever. I can tell you, with an open heart and a clear conscience, that nobody else got a wolf blanket from their parents for Christmas except me. I'll get some pictures on here soon as soon as I unroll that hoss.

Before I go to bed, I have a little scenario that has been playing out in my head for the last 3 hours and I wanna tell you all about it. Take a walk with me, will you? Let's go back in time 150 years to 1858. Let's say we're sitting around talking to some railroad tycoon and I'm telling him about the future.

"Well, Mr. Tycoon, you see trains really peaked a long time ago. They lost a lot of small- to mid-range business to cars. Cars are these little machines that drive around and they ruin the environment and kill people, but we love them," I say after we all have had a nice brunch.

"Yes, yes, I see what you mean, future-person. Hey, is everyone in the future all fat like you?" he replies. His jovial tone belies the disgust in his eyes.

"No Mr. Tycoon. They are not," I awkwardly stammer. As our eyes meet, he can see the shame I am trying desperately to hide. He peers over my shoulder and sees all of you giving sympathetic looks to the back of my head. He brings our conversation back to the issue of travel.

"Oh well, anyways, what replaces the long-range travel in the future?" he says with a whimsical raise of his bushy brows.

"Well Mr. Tycoon, the long-distance travel is all done on airplanes. They are these gigantic metal tubes that fly through the air at a few-hundred miles-per-hour at upwards of 30,000 feet. Millions of people move about the world on airplanes." I say.

"Well you are the devil and that is crazy-talk! How do they keep from crashing?" he chokes.

"The entire industry is heavily regulated by the government. It is funny because it is something that the airline industry fought hard against, but it is the best thing for them. It is very safe and it made the world a smaller place." I retort.

"Well this airline business sure sounds like the best thing ever!" he spits, with a giddiness that makes his eyes sparkle like the North Star.

"Well there is one thing, Mr. Tycoon. It is something really, really bad about flying. It really is horrible and there is no way around it?" I explain.

"What. The. Fuck. You. Lying. Fat. Future. Man. Flying is the best thing ever. What could possibly be so bad?" he hisses through gritted teeth. You all take a few steps back because he is pissed.

"Well there are these bastard people called 'baggage handlers' that gain pleasure from throwing people's luggage around. Why in fact, in a trip from Chicago to Montreal I was just on, the heathen 'baggage handlers' ripped off my nice little name tag and broke a zipper off of my luggage." I explain.

He weeps. We let ourselves out quietly. Oddly enough, we ALL forgot to tell him to warn Abe Lincoln not to go to that play in about 7 years.

He would have forgotten to warn ol' Honest Abe anyway, though. Right?