Ross Murray's Border Report
Ross Murray
Posted 12.29.05
Stanstead, Quebec


The year from the rear

Well, hey there, thanks for sticking with me through 2007. Gosh, where did those 365 days go? No, seriously, where did they go? What happens to time once it's in the past? Does it continue to exist?

But, heck, such questions are too profound for the end of December. Instead, it's a time of reflection, a chance to review the year that was. Or is it the year that were? Either way, won't you join me as we look back on some of the highlights - and dare I say a few "lowlights" - of this column in 2007? Won't you? Oh, please, won't you?

My column "Here's what's wrong with the world today and here's what people could do to make it better if only they'd show a little backbone" single-handedly solved world hunger, global warming, and ridiculous soap opera storylines. Admittedly, though, the title could have been shorter.

Who could ever forget my Valentine's Day poem:

My love is like a Dalmatian:
Covered in spots
And not really a great pet
But quite popular nonetheless
Thanks to those movies

My column on the need for tighter security at the Annual Mansonville Marzipan Festival resulted in a deluge of letters to the editor (three). Despite everything that has transpired since - the evidence, for example, that the Mozart ball was not, in fact, rigged to explode - I stand by my conviction that the Ladies' Auxiliary should - nay, must! - be stricter in their peanut allergy policy. Needless to say, I wasn't invited to June's Annual "Potton On The Ritz" Cracker Festival.

I have to admit, I was off my game in April. Humblest apologies. Especially to the seven Rotarians and the migrant worker implicated.

The tabloids had a heyday with that column where I supposedly came out of the closet. For the last time, it was a typo; it was supposed to read, "I'm gray." Can we move on now?

Two columns stick out in my mind for June. There was the one about the "kidnapping," obviously. Oh, how we laughed once we had all that sorted out! And then there was the satirical poem about Prime Minister Stephen Harper coming to the Townships to drum up support for his National Sexual Abstinence Program. Let's run that punchline again, shall we? "You mean this is Dixville?" Oh my, good times.

Probably one of my best columns of the year: my youngest daughter Abby not only wins the Traversée du Lac, but sets a new record for the Lake Memphremagog marathon. And she's only six. And she had a broken leg. A triumph of the spirit over adversity, cuteness over competition, babyfaces over Bulgarians.
Who can forget that ending: "I winned!" she shouted. "You mean, 'won,'" I corrected. 'I wonned!' she repeated.
How absolutely adorable and not at all embellished!

The vacation column. Yes, that one. The one that resulted in the cease-and-desist order from my family. Apparently detailing my kin's personal hygiene habits was "crossing the line." They just don't understand "art" or the subtle use of "quotation marks." Thankfully, I've since been allowed to move back home.

Good news! My September 15 column on flossing has been optioned by a major Hollywood studio. Casting is still not finalized but Uma has expressed interest in the role of the sexy but lethal hygienist. I'm trying to bargain a walk-on part for myself, maybe as one of the gingivitis choristers. Working title: Floss of Iron.

Remember that Halloween tale I wrote about the hook-armed man who roamed neighbourhoods looking for unlocked doors and then he'd sneak inside and hide in closets until the unsuspecting victim was alone and then he'd jump out and slaughter them while laughing maniacally? Well, he's RIGHT BEHIND YOU!!!
Oh golly, that cracks me up every time.

After several complaints from readers concerning the November 23 column about my navel (title: "I just can't take my eyes off it!"), I made a vow to myself and to my readers to be less self-absorbed and self-indulgent in my writing.

I'm People Magazine's "Sexiest Man Alive." Yes!