Luci mailed a box of blankets and and other unimportant things so she wouldn’t have to carry them on the plane at the end of next month, and she included the only two things I asked for and which are far more important than blankets – my Bob Dylan “One Direction Home” DVD, and my 1950s Habs helmet, which, as you can see, wouldn’t prevent too many cracked skulls.
Heads were harder back then, not like the soft pussy heads kids have now. Kids in the ’50s had hard heads toughened up from teacher’s rulers being cracked over them, errant road hockey sticks, backhands from frustrated teacher nuns, blows from falling out of trees, attacks from wild animals who thought your coonskin hat was alive, and ramming into schoolyard walls when picking up “closest to the wall” hockey cards.
But this is all old talk. I’m a modern guy, not someone who lives in the past. Oops, my Beatles record has finished. Time to put on some Roy Orbison.
Only 35 more days. Leafs and Habs.