Strange Way to Live

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Carl Dixon. Strange Way to Live

Cover

Dedication

Epigraph

Table of Contents

foreword by lawrence gowan

foreword by pat stapleton

author’s note

prologue: almost the end

in the beginning

this is how it starts

sibby rules by baton

magic moments, or how i tied the threads together

follow the bouncing bean

back to the boots

preparing for luck

follow the highway ’til you hit the ocean, then keep going

ode to a firefly

the asylum beckons...

making coney “hatch”

hey operator

scream for me, seattle!

the evils of drugs, drink, and rock ‘n’ roll

let’s not get outa hand!

git on yer bikes and ride!

old road dogs

friction

why i quit coneying up

highlight reel

hmm ... what to do, what to do?

back on earth

chance walks into the room

staff? thought i’d die!

come on, you, get up!

the night i joined the guess who (sort of)

“i was the devil’s accomplice”

the night i joined april wine (sort of)

music solo, you can’t get under it

denouement

the smack-down

great hallucinations

surrender ... and driving force

my hands can’t feel to grip...

we’re on our way home

it’s a miracle!

there you go, then: goodbye, guess who

iceland it is, then

a new chapter in the old story

acknowledgements

Copyright

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This book is dedicated to my mother Marje and my sister Christina;

my daughters Carlin and Lauren;

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They married a month after Marje’s nineteenth birthday, and I was born thirteen months later. Fifty-two years of dedicated matrimony followed. I have a sister, Christina, a little over thirteen months younger than me. My sister’s birth apparently made things a little awkward for my mother. The males of the Magi family had been prepared once already to fetch their daughter and sister home on the train from far-off Sault Ste. Marie, convinced that Ron was proving unreliable as a husband. Marje was certain her mother, who had already questioned her daughter’s choice, would now tell her that she’d only compounded the mistake by having a second child. Marje didn’t want to hear it, so she didn’t tell her.

In later years Grandma Hella would tell the story of going to the Soo to visit her daughter and grandson in spring only to discover this unknown newborn sleeping in the home. “My goot-niss, who is thiss?” Grandma exclaimed. Her anger at being deceived must have been softened by the joy of seeing the newborn Christina. Perhaps Marje had counted on that.

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