While I don't usually like to reveal much of my personal life in this space, I have seen speculation regarding TUC on other blogs, and I have received e-mails from many of you wondering what's been going on. Here it is: My physical health hasn't been the greatest for some time, and the blog became a low priority. Most of my so-called creative energies have to be directed towards the column, and truthfully that's been an effort -- more than one recent piece was written while sporting one of those godforsaken hospital gowns that refuse to close in the back.
I don't want to go into specifics, but I can assure you that I expect to be back at 100% eventually, but unfortunately I do not have a set timetable for an exact date. Honestly, I feel rather self-involved for making this post, but it's difficult to keep up with all of your inquiries, so I feel this is the best way.
I know a lot of you have gotten frustrated with the tendency for the blog to go "subscription-only" -- unfortunately it's done for preventative measures against those in the business who wish to cause difficulties for TUC and its associates via indirect and unsophisticated methods. Those who remain paranoid and obsessive about the writings of a lowly local weekly columnist need to check themselves, and those who can't handle TUC's criticism should investigate whether they have been afflicted with specific hemorrhaging normally reserved for those of a double-x chromosome persuasion.
(Illness has made me belligerent...and apparently, rather gauche.)
Hopefully I will be back soon -- thanks again for all your kind words and support. Before I sign off on this post, I figured I should relay a Sens-related story from a while back that I never got around to writing about. A couple of months ago I was having a generally crappy week -- some people would head out to their local pub and pound a few with friends. I don't do that. Me, I put in a call, get on a plane and go and see Bad Religion.
I took an 18-seater plane to Allentown, PA (home of the AAA Lehigh Valley Ironpigs -- formally known as the Ottawa Lynx). Tiny venue, completely packed and totally crazy. After the show, The Driver and I went to thank guitarist Greg Hetson for looking out for us (as he has for several years now -- sometimes I forget what a charmed life I lead). I asked him about his in-studio appearance on The Jim Rome Show that occurred about a month prior. (Rome and Hetson have known each other for ages -- it was through Rome that I originally met Greg.)
I asked him about the Stanley Cup Finals and said, "Okay, so just to be sure...you weren't cheering for the dark side? (Hetson is a huge Kings fan.) His reply? "Fuck no! I wore my old Senators jersey the whole time (there are photos of him sporting said old-school jersey inside the liner notes from the '93 album Recipe For Hate). When I told Rome that I cried (when the Ducks won), I meant it."
Atta boy, Greg. We're all for SoCals who cannot be swayed. We then tried to hammer out a ludicrous trade between our two franchises (Emery for Jack Johnson, straight up), but even Hetson knows too much about Ottawa's "off-ice" issues . (Yes, the story has reached that far. My 60 year-old, hockey ignorant, pseudo-maternal unit has also asked me about it, editors from national dailies inquire if I'm going to pursue it* and choice teammates have angrily spoken about the subject -- in public, no less. But it's a secret, right? It can still be a secret, even though it's broaching the 18-month mark. That's some high comedy, kids.)
That's all for now. Thanks for reading, take care and yeah hey.
More...at an unknown later date.
*Me? A mercenary for hire? Aw, that's sweet.
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