Well here it is, another new year. The last few have been busts, so let’s hope 2023 is better. First big thing – at least for me – was I turned 60 a few days ago. I had a lot of fun getting cool presents and going for dinner and to a hockey game, but I also did some reflecting. I remember hearing that usually the 50’s are the best years of a man’s life. By that time, the children have probably stopped being a burden, he is likely in a position of power at work and well paid, and he is typically still strong and healthy. There are a million exceptions, but in an overview of trends, that’s what “they” say. The term they used was something along the lines of “the apex of his villainy.” So a few days ago I passed out of my 50’s into a decade everyone can agree is the beginning of the long decline. I figure 60 is about the 2/3 mark of my life, barring any sudden accidents or the onset of any major diseases. Oh well, I had a lot of fun in the first 60 years, so I can’t complain.
Ok, a subject I haven’t written about in quite a while: Burns Lake and the absurd amount of BC 50/50 lottery wins that take place there. During the Covid years, the jackpots were generally lower than before and since, but Burns Lake kept on winning. In 2022 the prizes were back to pre-Covid levels, so let’s add it up. It may be that more money was won in Maple Ridge, as a store called JV Convenience won many times too, and it also won the largest prize of the year, $75,000 won on Super Bowl Sunday. But Burns Lake still won way more than its share, winning 74 times for $171,881.50 That’s just over 5% of all the draws last year, split amongst 0.03% of the province, or about 166 times what it should have based solely on population. There are some people spending big money up there! I am still considering playing heavily for one month, understanding that my money and I might be waving goodbye to each other.
I do a lot of dumb stuff. For some reason I have been getting invited to a weekly Zoom meeting of chess players. I say for some reason because the group often contains several master level players, and I am a moderately strong club player, but certainly no master. Anyway, they tolerate my feeble suggestions as we analyze positions and toss out move ideas. Last night we were analyzing a position together when suddenly my cat started gagging. I jumped up and tried to grab the cat to throw her outside where she would be free to barf at will, but the cat evaded capture. So I dashed back and forth, swearing like a sailor, trying to grab her while some of the province’s sharpest chess minds watched us on Zoom. Finally the cat sprinted downstairs and threw up partially digested kibble on our newly steam-cleaned carpet, the wall, and the couch. Tomorrow I am playing in a tournament with a couple of those players, so I may find myself explaining my odd behaviour, hoping they will invite me to future Thursday night chess chats.
I mentioned gifts earlier. Well here is the grandaddy of great gifts: a refurbished chair from the Montreal Forum, built in 1924. My son saved this chair from a house fire and spent a year and a half cleaning it up and turning the clock back many decades. How many times did the person who sat here see the Stanley Cup won? I have to bolt it to a base because it’s a tipping hazard, especially if I am enjoying some hockey juice. At my advanced age, falling from this chair might cause bodily harm.
