My rule was always that they had to be old enough to get my jokes, such as they were.

Watching King Charles deliver the Throne Speech in Canada’s Parliament the other day reminded me of a brief moment in university when I thought I might want to be Prime Minister of this vast, complex, and sometimes ungovernable land.

For a million reasons, we love it here in New Brunswick. But what we’ve learned about living in a bilingual province has been very telling, particularly on the cultural side.

Everyone loves a happy ending, right? But real life doesn’t always come with a nice, tidy bow on top.

I’m 66, and I like who I am. Or, more precisely, I like who I’ve become in this, my “last quarter.” But do I like who I was at 18? Not so much, especially in retrospect.

Everyone talks about landing a “dream job,” but how often does that actually happen?

I’ve been married three times.

Partly as a result of this anti-Trudeau sentiment, Western separatism was on the rise and a separatist party called the Western Canada Concept decided to hold a rally at the Jubilee Auditorium in Edmonton in November 1980.

Hard to believe, but it’s been five years since my friend and I pulled into the driveway after dark, with a disintegrated rear tire and most of my wife’s and my worldly possessions in tow.

We finally had one foot in New Brunswick, where we really wanted to be. We just didn’t know exactly when we would move here or what our life here would look like.