In The Blink Of An Eye

The last band I played with in Winnipeg, before I took a train to Toronto to find my fortune was called Friday the 13th.

We were moderately successful and popular by local standards and played all the venues available to us and were even taken under wing of a local radio show host who saw in us a possible next big thing.

This was in the mid-to late 1960's...when rock and roll was many a poor boy's dream of fame and fortune.

When I arrived in Toronto, I was joined by the guitarist of this same Winnipeg group, who we knew as Gord. There we shared some hard times and learned a few more hard lessons about the unforgiving nature of the music business and poverty surrounding it if you don't make your mark.

After a very difficult but eye-opening winter there we went our separate ways and we lost contact through the following years.

But a few years back we regained contact again in Vancouver, after approximately 37 years apart and although we had changed dramatically, we instantly recognized each other, in a pre-arranged meeting in a coffee shop and picked up in approximately the exact same place we left off. No problem!

Within minutes, we were both laughing, joking, sharing stories and unselfconciously comfortable in each others' presence. In the old days, we used to joke that we were two old men and mimic the accents and the use of canes and before too long we were doing the same thing in the coffee shop, except this time we both had gray hair.

Today we met again for lunch at Tim Hortons on Alberni, and immediately the stories, jokes and laughter kicked in. Two hours passed in the blink of an eye.

What's two hours or 40 years to old friends?