BC Home Growns

BC home-growns are trippy. Guy attending UBC who lives in tree stump. Woman who annually retreats for 5 days to circle on mountain. Digs a toilet pit inside circle, but rarely uses it because she doesn’t eat or drink. Homeless guy who refuses sushi: he’s vegetarian.

Linda

He e-diaried her demise--images of a face growing rounder and head balder--until she was unrecognizable. I was afraid to open his last attachment, fearing the face of death, but the image that lit-up the screen was the pre-cancer Linda we all wished to remember.

Randy

I can’t remember his name so I’ll call him Randy, as this pretty much sums him up. Exploiting the fact that he was director of a phys ed school he adopted a minuscule speedo as his work outfit. I don’t think he ever used the pool.

Harriet

A few glasses and Harriet’s uncorked. Stories bubble out of her, and soon we’re all toasting life’s zaniness. She’s the kind of effervescent spirit we all need in our lives, to remind us that amidst all the gloom and doom there is still room for laughter.

Derrick and Melanie

They spent their first five years sailing from one life to another. What a great start to their stories; with sightlines unrestricted by buildings, hedges, convention, they must know that there are infinite horizons to head for, that they can choose to go anywhere, do anything.

The Happy Chef

The insurance company asks if my mother is running a grow-op out of her house. What!? My mother!? On the other hand, maybe the idea is not so far-fetched: perhaps she has become the happy chef, joyfully garnishing her Campbell’s soup based meals with marijuana.

Vincent Lam (who I don't know, but wish I did, for I'd like him to teach me some time-management skills)

It sounds like a good plot for a short story: ER doctor working on cruise ship in Arctic meets Margaret Atwood on board. He asks her to read his short stories, she does, and yesterday he wins the Giller Prize for fiction. Not The End.

Kim

She greets him at the door, clothed only in Saran wrap. When that fails, she dispenses with any draping, sashays back and forth. He asks her what she’s doing. She knows the date their son was conceived. She’s sure of it-- they’ve only had sex once.

Belinda

We’ve been friends for a year when she asks if I’ve ever considered dating women. I respond, less directly but equally clearly, that I am not interested. Lately another car snuggles up to hers in the driveway some mornings, and our friendship lumbers out of hibernation.

Tim

Tim goes the distance for love: to Brazil, where an Ayahuasca-induced trance “teaches him to walk again, to swim like a jaguar and to leave hell by his own devices.” I’m unsure whether these skills will lead to a successful relationship, but they do sound useful.