<h1> Life can be a bitch</H1>

Sometimes life just gets you down and the "WHY" questions start to fly. The day before yesterday, my best friend from my youth died. Brian had been ill for a few years with an unrecognized illness that never responded to any form of treatment. He spent his last couple of years in and out of hospital. He died peacefully, surrounded by family. He was 68 or maybe he had just reached 69.

Kind of puts PD into perspective, doesn't it?

Brian was one of the most creative persons I knew, with a golden sense of humor. He could make me laugh anytime, anywhere. Like the day we were in the swimming pool and passed the high diving board which bore a sign "Out of Bounds"

"Shouldn't that sign read "Out of Bounce?" Brian said matter-of-factly. His dry sense of humor could reach genius level.

If you came here for info on PD, you should stop reading for what follows is a story that illustrates our friendship.

The Great? Fire of 1961

Alright, I have to admit Brian and I were nerds. We played with science and drama while others our age had other things on their minds. Brian decided he wanted to make a movie showing ships at sea being bombed. We got a large wash basin and filled it with water and that was Brian's ocean. Next we coated model ships with cullodion and put them in the "ocean". We had learned about cullodion in Harvie McGhie's grade 9 science class. Cullodion is highly flammable. Brian lit some rubber tubing and held it over the ships at sea. As the tubing melted, little balls of fire reigned down on the ships setting them a-blaze.

Before I go on, I should tell you we had made fire extinguishers out of pop bottles, because of the danger posed by cullodion. These extinguishers would work in theory, but we had never tested them. Would they work in reality? We were about to find out.

Back to the story.

All was going well. The ships started burning and if we had had a camera, it would have looked like a real battle at sea (well, maybe semi-real). Then all hell broke loose. One of us, I forget who, knocked over the bottle of cullodian and a large puddle, with a viscosity of liquid mercury, was let loose on the basement floor. Brian turned to see what had happened and in doing so accidentally let a drop of melting tubing fall into the puddle and we had a major - minor fire.

"Get the fire extinguishers," Brian yelled.

I grabbed one and threw the other to Brian. We activated them and a small stream of water shot out. They did nothing. I could have peed on the fire and done more damage. Brian and I started laughing and Brian said we should do something about the flames so I stomped on the cullodian fire. The result was little balls of fire squirted out from under my foot and settled all around the room. Fire was everywhere. Now we were in hysterics as we watched the fires burn out. No damage done except for a couple of melted model ships in a washbasin.

Such were the days spent with Brian. He was my best friend and I miss our boyhood adventures. Brian, his bother and mother and father were my second family and they influenced my development and kept me on the straight and narrow.

As a grade 9 teacher during down times, I used to tell stories about my friendship with Brian (and his brother)and have been told many times I should write a book. I would like to. I might. But I doubt I will. It would be too difficult to re-create the youthful joy of those halcyon days. I am content to think I will see Brian on the other side; we will tell stories and laugh our halos off.