Sometimes when we touch

Anyone who grew up in the 70's has to know where that some lyric comes from. Actually it's the title of a song by Dan Hill. He the troubadour of many ballads where probably many children were conceived.

I returned home from a fabulous weekend away with some friends to be greeted by my loving wife. What a beautiful event, we chatted, had lunch and decided to point the car and see where it would take us. We advised our progeny that we would be home by dinner time (and we are) and climbed board SHADOEFX who quickly took us for a ride.

We headed south to the land of water and the loo for gas and decided that a visit to a local coffee establishment would be in order. Ever the gentleman, I joined my beloved in her search for her cold drink and queued with the other patrons of the barista establishment. I having already had my fill of expensive coffee, decided on even more expensive Italian water(what a rip off).

I completed the purchase(some would say participate in extortion) and waited for my beloveds drink. I listened carefully as I heard the plucking of strings and the strained sounds of a poorly executed sound system. In the midst of this cacophony came a voice from the past, trying to achieve victory over the miserable sound system. I moved closer to the sounds only to be struck by the visage of a gaunt but strangely familiar face. A person whose words have caused me to shed many tears over the years since the 70's. A man I have often wished to hear and see and even meet in person was sitting and strumming not 20 feet away from me. There he was, Dan Hill, the author of many soulful ballads including the one from the title of this post, sitting in Chapters.

We sat and listened, he talked about the relationship with his dad and I cried. I cried for him, I cried for myself and I cried for my beloved. I also smiled many smiles. I recalled many terrific memories from the 70's and 80's when his music was always on my turntable. What an amazing weekend I have just had, I spent numerous hours with work colleagues whom I love at a reunion in Collingwood. I returned home to the arms of my beloved and to her smiles. I met Dan Hill, one of my musical heroes and chatted with him. He signed the book I purchased and I learned once again that it's ok for a man to cry. I am 52 and I shamelessly allowed tears of sadness and joy to roll down my face in a Chapters store in Waterloo.

"the honesty's too much and I have to close my eyes and hide"

Not anymore!