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Gordo here and 3 weeks ago I had to buy a new snow blower because my trusty old one was not working. I get a new one and it gets delivered the day after the last big snowfall we got. I put levers and shine her up nice and boy! does it throw the snow…perfect!

There is one problem now…there’s no more snow!!! Not that’s a bad thing, but you get a new toy, hungry to chomp on the snow and now the white stuff is not falling. I have come to the conclusion that since I have made my life easier by not having to shovel anymore, Old Man Winter has packed up and left.

We were supposed to get dumped on today…I was sitting by the window, with my extra warm winter jacket, mitts, my special Wiseguys Snow Blower hat…and nothing. *sigh*

Also my old snow blower I gave to my brother (who is great at fixing things) and he has the old one back to mint condition, so there’s two of us waiting for snow, all ready to plow.

So if your back is tender from shovelling this winter, rest easy, I have banished the snow from these parts for this winter.

Now if I was only this good with the lotto numbers!

General here…
Do you ever feel REALLY Canadian? Like, you actually think to yourself - “I feel really Canadian right now?”
I remember golfing in Banff a few years ago - and just standing on the green - looking at the Rocky Mountains - thinking “I have NEVER felt more Canadian than I do right now.”
Does that make sense?
It’s almost always tied into the weather, right?
I mean, how can you not feel Canadian with all this snow around?
Like on Friday…I’m shovelling my driveway - and when I’m done, I go over to help my neighbour, Bob, shovel his. We “get ‘er done” and then stand around chatting - the snow pounding down on us - we’re both leaning on our shovels a la Ken Dryden - the snow is freezing to our eyebrows - I can’t even see his eyes, he’s squinting so much from the wind and snow - a few inches of snow has accumulated on his hat already - it’s absurd - sane people would go inside, make some coffee, have a conversation, but not us - we’re freezing and waving to others as they make their way to their own driveways….and THAT’S when I think - “this is SO Canadian”.  It’s so wonderfully Canadian.
Jeez - I eventually get sick of the snow too - but what are you gonna do? It comes with the territory - literally!

General here…
We went to a funeral in Burlington on Saturday. My wife’s family is very close - so it was particularly difficult to say goodbye to Mike Martin - her cousin’s husband. He was a gentle and generous sweetheart of a guy - the “strong and silent type” is a cliche, but that was Mike Martin. Stoic till the end.  More than that, he was a real family man. He and his wife, Debbie, have raised three of the nicest, most polite kids I’ve ever met. And is there any greater compliment than when someone tells you how polite, how helpful or how kind your child was in a certain instance? That’s a biggie for me. Even before Anita and I had kids, we always said we wanted our children to be just like them. So - we knew we were in for a difficult day.

Still - life can be funny, even on dark days.
After shovelling the driveway twice and clearing the 7  feet of snow off the vehicle, we packed the kids and ”Gramma Maggie” into the car, and began our 100 km drive from Ajax to Burlington.
“Do you have the directions?” the lovely Anita asks.
“Yes - I mapquested them this morning.”

I had a pretty good idea of where we were going anyway - it was just the nitty-gritty details I really needed, as the church was in a residential area, and not on a main road.

So off we go - explaining to the kids what this day is about and what they can expect.

We get to Burlington, no problem.
We get off the highway at Guelph Line, I reach into my pocket for the little map I drew from the website - uh oh - it’s not there.
No problem. I remember where to go. It’s just up here - we take a left into this subdivision, follow this street around to the first stop sign, then another left, and…we’re lost.
No problem. There’s a guy shovelling his driveway up ahead - we’ll ask him. We pull up and he gingerly walks over - he’s an elderly man - he really shouldn’t be shovelling - he’s huffing and puffing, trying to catch his breath. To break the tension, I turn around and ask the kids if any of them have ever learned CPR in school. They’re 9,5 and 3 years old. They’re staring blankly at me. Nevermind. 
I ask this gentleman about the chuch. He doesn’t know, but he says he has a GPS system that he can check if I know the address. Well, in my “Rainman” mind I actually can remember the address - just not how to get there. He plugs in his address, then the church address - a little map comes up - and then he gives me this GPS device-thing and says I can take it - just drop it off later today when we’re leaving! We’re complete strangers. I love it. It turns out we were just around the corner. We can make it there without his gadget. I thank him for his time and his offer, but I should have thanked him for his reminder that the world is still mostly a good place. Even on sad days.

General here…
Have you heard?
Elton John is coming to Kitchener and Sudbury - tickets go on sale this Friday (Feb 1) at 10am through www.ticketmaster.ca.

As someone who has seen many, MANY concerts over the years - over 100 for sure - I would say if you are even considering going to see Elton live, you owe it to yourself to go.  He has to be one of the greatest performers I’ve ever seen. His catalogue of music speaks for itself - so many great ballads, but so many rockers as well. And his show really is more of a journey than your typical concert.
From the crazy-big rock-show ending of Saturday Night’s Alright For Fighting to the lone spotlight as he hits the first notes of Rocket Man…
“She packed my bags last night, pre-flight…Zero hour, 9am…”
Come on, that’s showmanship!

I’ll never forget Bennie And The Jets. It’s one of my all-time favourite concert moments.
Just that signature beginning - the pounding on the piano - the bass and drums in time- and the lights pulsing on every deliberate chord…
BAHMP BAHMP BAHMP BAHMP BAHMP BAHMP - BUM BUM BA-DAAH DUM…

What’s amazing too is that I’ve never owned an Elton John album or CD, yet I knew every single song - simply from hearing them on the radio over the years. 
Proof that you don’t have to be a huge fan to enjoy the show.

So…
Really - if you’re on the fence - should you go? Should you not?
Do it. Go. Thank me later. Buy me something with BBQ sauce on it.

General here…
Got a joke sent to us from Maria - I laughed out loud, so I thought you’d enjoy it as well.
Have a great weekend!

The Husband Store
A store that sells new husbands has opened in Toronto, where a woman may go to choose a husband. Among the instructions at the entrance is a description of how the store operates: You may visit this store ONLY ONCE!
There are six floors and the value of the products increase as the shopper ascends the flights. The shopper may choose any item from a particular floor, or may choose to go up to the next floor, but you cannot go back down except to exit the building! So, a woman goes to the Husband Store to find a husband.
On the first floor the sign on the door reads:

Floor 1 - These men Have Jobs.
She is intrigued, but continues to the second floor, where the sign reads:

Floor 2 - These men Have Jobs and Love Kids.
“That’s nice,” she thinks, “but I want more.”
So she continues upward. The third floor sign reads:

Floor 3 - These men Have Jobs, Love Kids, and are Extremely Good Looking.
“Wow,” she thinks, but feels compelled to keep going.
She goes to the fourth floor and the sign reads:

Floor 4 - These men Have Jobs, Love Kids, are Drop-dead Good Looking and Help With Housework.
“Oh, mercy me!” she exclaims, “I can hardly stand it!”
Still, she goes to the fifth floor and the sign reads:

Floor 5 - These men Have Jobs, Love Kids, are Drop-dead Gorgeous, Help with Housework, and Have a Strong Romantic Streak.
She is so tempted to stay, but she goes to the sixth floor, where the sign reads:

Floor 6 - You are visitor 31,456,112 to this floor. There are no men on this floor. This floor exists solely as proof that women are difficult to please.
Thank you for shopping at the Husband Store.

PLEASE NOTE:
To avoid gender bias charges, the store’s owner opened a New Wives store just across the street.
The first floor has wives that love makin’ whoopie.
The second floor has wives that love makin’ whoopie, have a lot of money and like beer.
The third, fourth, fifth and sixth floors have never been visited.

General here…

I don’t pretend to know a lot about the Afro-centric school issue.  It’s not for me to decide whether it’s right or wrong - but, I do wonder - if he was still alive - what would Martin Luther King Jr. think of all of this?
Is a black-focused school system what he meant when he said that he hoped that one day his children would live in a nation where they would not be judged by the colour of their skin, but by the content of their character?  That one day, little black boys and black girls would be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers?
Is this what he was talking about?

Hey there - it’s the General…

I love being a dad. I really do. My kids make me laugh.
My daughter, Ava, is 5. My conversations with her are hilarious.
She is SO sweet.
I tell her that she’s allowed to turn 6, but then that’s it. No more birthdays.
I don’t even want to imagine five years into the future.
But for now - I could talk to her all day.

We were in the car and she wanted to play I Spy. 

She starts: I spy with my little eye - something that is blue.
Me: Is it that store sign?
No.
Is it that guy’s jacket?
No.
Is it that car over there?
No.
Is it your school bag?
No.
Is it this? Is it that? Is it yada yada yada?
No. No. No. No.
Well I give up - what is it?
She says: The sky.
I say: Well, normally that’s true, but it’s raining - so the sky isn’t blue today - it’s grey.
Oh.
My turn: I spy with my…
She cuts me off: No daddy - I want to go again.
Ok.
She starts up again: I spy with my little eye - something that is grey.
Grey? Is it the sky?
All proud and smiling, she says: Yes!

Honestly, it’s like talking to Gord sometimes.

Dear Leaf Management;
Here’s the deal.
I’m almost 42 years old and I’d like to see the Leafs win the Cup before I die.
I was ten when my family moved to Scarborough from the East Coast - and I’ve bled Blue & White since Sittler’s 10-point night in ‘76.
I have every ticket stub from every game I’ve ever attended.
I cried when the Gardens closed.
I brought my then-7-week-old son to MLG the day before the closing ceremonies - just so he could say one day that he had been in that building while it was still alive. 
It meant that much to me.

In the last 32 years, you’ve had four promising seasons - ‘78, ‘93, ‘94 and ‘02 - with a lot of “we’ll get ‘em next year” BS afterwards.
Watching the Leafs play over the holidays was downright turn-the-TV-off-and-go-to-bed disgusting.
They’re not even close.
Every game is a blowout.
And guess what? I got another Leaf jersey/sweater/shirt/top for Chistmas this year.
When do you propose I proudly wear this?

How is it the Anaheim Ducks are Stanley Cup Champions? They entered the league in the 90s!
As did the Tampa Bay Lightning.
And the Carolina Hurricanes?!
They’ve all had Stanley Cup parades and Raising the Banner ceremonies - and we can’t even stumble into the playoffs?!
Are you kidding me?
Doesn’t that bother you enough to DO SOMETHING?
We are the greatest hockey city in the world - yet I have to watch VHS tapes of Dougie and Wendel to recall a time when I felt good about this team.

So my question to you is this:
How long can I reasonably expect to wait for a Toronto Maple Leaf Stanley Cup Parade?
Yes. I want a parade.
Is anyone even on the case? Has anyone considered maybe announcing a State of Emergency?
Forget declaring a Code Blue - it’s too late - this team is more like a Code Brown.

It’s simply not enough that the ACC is sold out every game.
It can’t be just about the money.
Pride should factor into this somewhere, shouldn’t it?
How can the organization have such disregard for itself? For the fans? For the city?

It’s like you Just. Don’t. Care.
Is that it?

Well, I’m beginning to feel that way too.

Hey…

General here. I know. I KNOW. Long time, no blog. I know. It’s a lot harder than it looks, I’m telling you. Look - reading it is easy. And a joy, I’m sure. But writing it is hard. It IS! That’s why today I’m starting slow. We we’ren’t sure we could do it, but we got our tree up in the shtudio. Mike, Gord and I spent ah-all nite putting thish special tree togethr - all by ourshelves. Reallly. S’beautiful. Yer gonna love it. Check it out.

Gordo here at my keyboard. Mark this down on your calender, Nov 29 at 12:20pm, I became a little less wise. I had my wisdom teeth removed, all 4 of them to be exact. 

I would love to bore you with details of my pain and suffering, but I have none to report. Just a slight ache equivalent of being kicked in the face by a mule ( I’m kidding, my jaw is starting to ache a small bit I’m in great shape).

I am, however, filled with loss at the 4 chewing comrades I have lost, and the many adventures we shared at the dinner table. The Christmas turkey this year will be a little less flavourful and the Wings with the Wiseguys will be less spicy.

The trouble is that I named my teeth…Chip, Spike, Big Joe, and Crusher and now they’ve gone to the big Jaw Bone in the sky. If it wasn’t for the sound of chewing I could almost hear them laugh with glee at the great food passing their way.

Now I must spend the next few days eating jello and soup and yogourt with lots of water. Followed by slowly getting back into the food ring with my favs steak, ribs, wings, and the ever constant Club Sandwich.

When I came to from the anesthetic, I looked at my cell phone and saw I had a voicemail from my fellow Wiseguys who were at the same moment toasting my absence with a platter of wings. The words of support and love that filled my right ear was enough to reinforce my belief that I may have lost 4 wisdom teeth, but compared to the them…

Click here to watch my video!

I AM… still a Wiseguy.