When I was a little kid and my parents left my grandparents to babysit, sometimes I might have toothache. My grandfather would give a little whiskey on kleenex to place over the sore tooth. This was thrilling. Playing checkers with him on the red and black plastic fold-out checkerboard was too but this part must be against the law. Alcohol was related to adults and restricted for kids. One did not have to police that because it tasted terrible but at the same time I liked how mystical this supposed cure was. He was older and wiser, I trusted him. My tooth felt better. Anytime I try whiskey that’s what I am reminded of but I don’t drink. I set out to try a few times but it never was a fulfilling experience, except when I was five. There was a famous drummer in Toronto, now dead, who was an alcoholic, maybe. I do not know for sure but I saw him a few times and he was always loaded. One time in the basement of the Horseshoe where Kenny and X-Ray, who ran the place, introduced us. But I already knew who he was, I was a little star struck. He was in that zone where arms flailed like conducting and he spoke half finished thoughts, music industry complaints more or less. Unfortunately, I insulted him the next time we met. It was in a cab on our way to the earlier non-televised part of the Juno awards. It was afternoon. I can’t recall why we were sharing a cab but he introduced himself as if we never met before. I corrected him and said it happened a couple years earlier in the office of the Horseshoe but you might not remember. Why? he asked. I think you were drunk I said matter of fact. He didn’t look at me the rest of the ride. I have that effect sometimes. People think I want to insult them or else I must be on the spectrum. The truth is I like blunt. A cop pulled me over one time and the first thing he said was “You have to get somewhere real fast huh?” and I said no. I just wasn’t thinking. I didn’t realize I was speeding. I didn’t even see what the speed limit was. He was so impressed he let me go, no ticket. I think he was sick of the usual theatrical exchange. He said people usually lie to his face but he could tell I was telling the truth and that was why he was letting me go. It was like I was for a moment in an updated episode of Kung Fu. Once in awhile it is good to be Bobby Dumbman.