On November 16, I woke up at 4:20 am from a dream. In it, I was standing in a booth at a huge stadium. Tim McGraw and Jason Aldean came through a door behind me and said quick hellos and patted me on the back as they passed on their way down through the bleachers to an island stage in the middle of the floor crowd. They were co-hosting a big fundraiser concert. Jason was starting the show with his latest hit. I’d written it. The first line was all I heard before I woke up. I went straight downstairs and spent the next hour or so quietly writing on the sofa. This is the first song I’ve written in months. Very happy about it.
Come on girl, let me wrap my world around you and your faded jeans
Help me build a blue sky for dreaming bigger dreams
When all is said and done, oh darlin' it won't mean a thing
If I can't have you standing there with me
Remember when we met, I tripped right over my tongue
But somehow I made you laugh, and that first lock came undone
Well, ever since that day, every day's been a better one
Because I've had you standing there with me
BRIDGE
Life sure can take twists and turns on its way
Winding through these precious few lucky days
I never really wanted kids until you told me that you did
Now I swear my heart has grown, I feel it bursting through my ribs
A lot of things have changed, yeah this old dog has learned new tricks
Because I've had you standing there with me
BRIDGE
Life sure can take twists and turns on its way
Winding through these precious few lucky days
Come on girl, let me wrap my world around you and your faded jeans
Help me build a blue sky for dreaming bigger dreams
When all is said and done, oh darlin' it won't mean a thing
If I can't have you standing there with me
When all is said and done, oh darlin' it won't mean a thing
If I can't have you standing there with me
Thursday 14 December 2017
Friday 30 June 2017
Turn Up The Fiddle
Well, I’ve been weighed down, brick of life
But I’m digging out, the pile goes on for miles
This week has taken ’bout a lifetime to go by
Now I’m ready for some Friday dynamite, dynamite
Yeah, Dynamite, let’s dance
CHORUS
Let’s get out in the middle
Lay it down on the floor
Tell the band, turn up the fiddle
Cuz I could use a little more
Tell the band, turn up the fiddle
Cuz I could use a little more
You’ve been leaning on that bar too long
I think it’s time I got your feet moving to this song
Leave your drink, I’ll buy another one later on
Something tells me this place’ll close before we’re done
Yeah, Dynamite, let’s dance
SHORT CHORUS
BRIDGE
There’s a time and place for slow dancin’, but it ain’t now
It’s time to kick your seat out, time to pick your feet up, time is running out
You wanna stretch this night until daylight? Well I can show you how
C’mon, stretch this night until daylight. Yeah I can show you how
LONG CHORUS
Tuesday 23 May 2017
Milk
I've recently been introduced to one of life's little heart-wrenching experiences: not being able to console a newborn who only wants his mother's breast milk. It seems that's all our little fella wants... all the time! hehe.
I wrote all the lyrics and melody for this one while soothing him in the living-room armchair as mamma caught some much-needed sleep upstairs.
Oh, I see the way you look at her
And I can’t help but be jealous
I’d surely lend a hand if I were
Not just one of the fellas
CHORUS
But I will rise like the sun when you open your eyes
I will wipe away every tear that you cry
Do every single little thing that I can till you get your fill
Oh I will rock your cradle every afternoon
I will tell you stories of the man in the moon
Yeah, I’ll love you like your mama will
I just ain’t got milk
Oh, I will love you like your mama will
I just ain’t got milk
Even when your eyes are closed
I know you’re dreaming of boobies
I wish that I could get a two-bit role
In one of those movies
CHORUS
BRIDGE
The only thing you know is the river that flows white gold
Yeah the only thing you know is white gold
CHORUS
I wrote all the lyrics and melody for this one while soothing him in the living-room armchair as mamma caught some much-needed sleep upstairs.
Oh, I see the way you look at her
And I can’t help but be jealous
I’d surely lend a hand if I were
Not just one of the fellas
CHORUS
But I will rise like the sun when you open your eyes
I will wipe away every tear that you cry
Do every single little thing that I can till you get your fill
Oh I will rock your cradle every afternoon
I will tell you stories of the man in the moon
Yeah, I’ll love you like your mama will
I just ain’t got milk
Oh, I will love you like your mama will
I just ain’t got milk
Even when your eyes are closed
I know you’re dreaming of boobies
I wish that I could get a two-bit role
In one of those movies
CHORUS
BRIDGE
The only thing you know is the river that flows white gold
Yeah the only thing you know is white gold
CHORUS
Sunday 23 April 2017
Little Fireball
We're expecting our first baby in the next couple weeks! I wrote this one back in February.
It feels like slow motion, as we get rolling
For your first ride around the sun
I’m a little scared and under-prepared
Waiting for the countdown to come
CHORUS
One of these days I’ll open my eyes
And we’ll be gazing at the sky
You’ll blow me away, imagining why
It’s up there at all
One of these hands’ll be here to hold
As the universe unfolds
Every star has a fiery soul
No matter how small
My little fireball, little fireball
Little fireball, little fireball
Your ship is ready, engine revving steady
Can you feel her rhythm?
I press my ear to your atmosphere
And tap to the beat of your tiny drum
REPEAT CHORUS
My little fireball, little fireball
Little fireball, little fireball
My little fireball, little fireball
My little fireball, little fireball
Thursday 13 April 2017
Five Point Five
I don’t really know why I’m posting this or if anybody’s even reading this blog. But if you do and it inspires a loving thought for me or anyone you know in a similar situation, then that makes me feel a bit better.
I wrote this song, Five Point Five, back in January…
My family doc called to say that the X-ray I got that morning showed a large mass on my left lung. There are no words that truly describe what those words do to you. Terrified and confused barely scratch the surface.
I had a CT scan within a week and saw one of the best surgeons in the country a couple days later. He said there were a few things it could be, but that its characteristics most suggested that it was a benign tumour grown out of the pleural sac. He operated on March 1 and removed it.
I cannot say enough nice things about everyone my family and I encountered at Toronto General through the 30 or so hours I was in the building. The incredible skill and compassion they exhibit daily is truly amazing. Andrew, Sheila, Nelson, Angela, Bon Jovi (yes, I had a nurse named Bon Jovi!)… there are more names I never got or can’t recall right now. So many great people — thank you for taking such incredible care of me.
If you know someone who works in healthcare, give 'em a hug right now.
Surgery went very well and the team was confident that they got all the bad bits out. The operation was done laparoscopically, so I was back home by suppertime the next day. My dad, who was an RN for around 30 years, flew up to be my personal nurse for over a week, changing dressings etc., and doing odd chores around the house. Thank you!
4 weeks later, I had a followup with the surgeon. To everyone’s surprise, the pathology report said that the tumour was in fact malignant. It was cancer. I had cancer. The good news is that it was quite localized and all indications during surgery and from the post-op lab-work were that it was all out. I’d have a follow-up with a radiation oncologist soon to discuss possible treatment. But I was feeling good, that it was probably cured.
I had that meeting yesterday and now I’m scared again. He recommends doing radiation treatments for 5 weeks. His thinking is that there’s no way to know if there are any remaining cancer cells in the area, so he’s inclined to take a conservative approach and radiate now. If there’s anything bad left in there, we’ll have a better chance of killing it while it’s weak, rather than when it’s stronger if it grows back months or years down the road. And if it were to grow back, there’s no telling what form it might take… it could be even worse.
I’d talked with a relative of similar expertise and experience a few days earlier, and her inclination was that, given the clear margin (no perforations in the extra layer that was removed with the tumor), it would be reasonable to monitor and only radiate if the cancer returned. It might well be cured now.
Both doctors acknowledge that there’s no definitely right way to proceed. The problem is that it’s a very rare cancer — there are only 45 published cases in the whole world. That’s far from enough for any statistically significant conclusions. No one knows how it behaves, what the recurrence rate might be, etc.
So now I have to choose between waiting and radiation. If I wait, there’s a chance that it’ll never return. Or it might. If it does, there’s a chance it’ll take exactly the same form and be fairly easily dealt with. Or it might be totally different and deadly. If I do radiation now to try and prevent recurrence, there are risks of various side effects that terrify me. There are also odds that none of them will happen. There’s a chance that the radiation will kill any remaining cancer cells. There’s also a chance that it’s pointless because the problem’s already cured. Nobody can quantify any of the odds related to the tumour. The only odds they can quantify are about radiation risks. For example, there’s a 1/1000 risk of spinal damage causing paralysis. That’s a small chance. But it’s still scary as heck, as is the thought of this thing coming back in some worse form. There’s scary all around. So… I’ve got some thinking to do over the next few days.
Anyway, here’s the song from January:
Five Point Five
It came right out of nowhere
Just about a week ago
I couldn’t quite catch my breath
And I still haven’t yet
Thinking I’ve got a long way to go
Oh, I’ve got a long way to go
Yeah, I stumbled over denial
Staring at a 3D scan
But I must admit I still hope
They call me up and say oh
No, that was of another man
Oh, that was of another man
CHORUS
It weighs heavy on my mind, heavy on my mind
The scariest song I’ve ever sung
It measures 5 point 5 centimetres wide
At the bottom of my left lung
It measures 5 point 5 centimetres wide
At the bottom of my left lung
It wants to make my darlin’ a widow
Open its jaws and take a bite
And, though the jury’s still out
Let there be no doubt
I’m not going without a fight
I’m not going without a fight
CHORUS
It weighs heavy on my mind, heavy on my mind
The scariest song I’ve ever sung
It measures 5 point 5 centimetres wide
At the bottom of my left lung
It weighs heavy on my mind, heavy on my mind
The scariest song I’ve ever sung
It measures 5 point 5 centimetres wide
At the bottom of my left lung
At the bottom of my left lung
I wrote this song, Five Point Five, back in January…
My family doc called to say that the X-ray I got that morning showed a large mass on my left lung. There are no words that truly describe what those words do to you. Terrified and confused barely scratch the surface.
I had a CT scan within a week and saw one of the best surgeons in the country a couple days later. He said there were a few things it could be, but that its characteristics most suggested that it was a benign tumour grown out of the pleural sac. He operated on March 1 and removed it.
I cannot say enough nice things about everyone my family and I encountered at Toronto General through the 30 or so hours I was in the building. The incredible skill and compassion they exhibit daily is truly amazing. Andrew, Sheila, Nelson, Angela, Bon Jovi (yes, I had a nurse named Bon Jovi!)… there are more names I never got or can’t recall right now. So many great people — thank you for taking such incredible care of me.
If you know someone who works in healthcare, give 'em a hug right now.
Surgery went very well and the team was confident that they got all the bad bits out. The operation was done laparoscopically, so I was back home by suppertime the next day. My dad, who was an RN for around 30 years, flew up to be my personal nurse for over a week, changing dressings etc., and doing odd chores around the house. Thank you!
4 weeks later, I had a followup with the surgeon. To everyone’s surprise, the pathology report said that the tumour was in fact malignant. It was cancer. I had cancer. The good news is that it was quite localized and all indications during surgery and from the post-op lab-work were that it was all out. I’d have a follow-up with a radiation oncologist soon to discuss possible treatment. But I was feeling good, that it was probably cured.
I had that meeting yesterday and now I’m scared again. He recommends doing radiation treatments for 5 weeks. His thinking is that there’s no way to know if there are any remaining cancer cells in the area, so he’s inclined to take a conservative approach and radiate now. If there’s anything bad left in there, we’ll have a better chance of killing it while it’s weak, rather than when it’s stronger if it grows back months or years down the road. And if it were to grow back, there’s no telling what form it might take… it could be even worse.
I’d talked with a relative of similar expertise and experience a few days earlier, and her inclination was that, given the clear margin (no perforations in the extra layer that was removed with the tumor), it would be reasonable to monitor and only radiate if the cancer returned. It might well be cured now.
Both doctors acknowledge that there’s no definitely right way to proceed. The problem is that it’s a very rare cancer — there are only 45 published cases in the whole world. That’s far from enough for any statistically significant conclusions. No one knows how it behaves, what the recurrence rate might be, etc.
So now I have to choose between waiting and radiation. If I wait, there’s a chance that it’ll never return. Or it might. If it does, there’s a chance it’ll take exactly the same form and be fairly easily dealt with. Or it might be totally different and deadly. If I do radiation now to try and prevent recurrence, there are risks of various side effects that terrify me. There are also odds that none of them will happen. There’s a chance that the radiation will kill any remaining cancer cells. There’s also a chance that it’s pointless because the problem’s already cured. Nobody can quantify any of the odds related to the tumour. The only odds they can quantify are about radiation risks. For example, there’s a 1/1000 risk of spinal damage causing paralysis. That’s a small chance. But it’s still scary as heck, as is the thought of this thing coming back in some worse form. There’s scary all around. So… I’ve got some thinking to do over the next few days.
Anyway, here’s the song from January:
Five Point Five
It came right out of nowhere
Just about a week ago
I couldn’t quite catch my breath
And I still haven’t yet
Thinking I’ve got a long way to go
Oh, I’ve got a long way to go
Yeah, I stumbled over denial
Staring at a 3D scan
But I must admit I still hope
They call me up and say oh
No, that was of another man
Oh, that was of another man
CHORUS
It weighs heavy on my mind, heavy on my mind
The scariest song I’ve ever sung
It measures 5 point 5 centimetres wide
At the bottom of my left lung
It measures 5 point 5 centimetres wide
At the bottom of my left lung
It wants to make my darlin’ a widow
Open its jaws and take a bite
And, though the jury’s still out
Let there be no doubt
I’m not going without a fight
I’m not going without a fight
CHORUS
It weighs heavy on my mind, heavy on my mind
The scariest song I’ve ever sung
It measures 5 point 5 centimetres wide
At the bottom of my left lung
It weighs heavy on my mind, heavy on my mind
The scariest song I’ve ever sung
It measures 5 point 5 centimetres wide
At the bottom of my left lung
At the bottom of my left lung
Saturday 21 January 2017
The Only Hope
When I'm in bed alone
There's a darkness by my side
Not like they sing about in pop songs
No, only the blues can describe it
Feels like drowning now
Feels like sinking down
It starts out small
Then it's fifty feet tall
Crashing down on me like a wave
I'm a grain of sand
Clinging onto dry land
No point in even playing brave
You're the only hope I'll be saved
Before you, there were none
Who made me want to stick around
For more than just a little fun
But for all kinds of ups and downs
Feel it taking hold
I feel it sinking in
It starts out small
Then it's fifty feet tall
Washing over me like a wave
I'm a grain of sand
Clinging onto dry land
No point in even playing brave
You're the only hope I'll be saved
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