As they say in the spice warehouse that exists entirely in mind, where does the thyme go? Wait, I’m sorry- if you decide to stop reading after that opening sentence, I certainly wouldn’t blame you. I guess I just wanted to apologize for taking so long between posts again, mostly to myself but also to you, dear reader, especially those of you who are kind enough to support my Substack endeavors and deserve better, dammit, like a summer sausage, as just one example.
The main reason I have been so lax in posting here of late is because I have been busy promoting/begging people to buy my new book The Awesome Game: One Man’s Incredible, Globe-Crushing Hockey Odyssey, what critics are already calling the best hockey book I’ve ever written. I have been scampering from town to town, and even country to country, talking with people, holding my book up near my face for photos, signing books, and indulging in as many cheese plates as the law will allow.
The mayhem began in Calgary (or Denver North as they call it at that imaginary spice warehouse referenced earlier) at Wordfest, an amazing book festival I have had the pleasure of attending twice now, having gone there in 2019 to beg people to buy my previous book Parking the Moose. It was a good time with friends old and new, including Canadian comedian Brent Butt, whom I had never met in person until we ran into each other in our hotel lobby and became- if I may speak for both of us- fast friends who aren’t afraid to lone each other large sums of money. Brett has a great new thriller out now called Huge, and I highly recommend it. It’s already a bestseller in Canada. So there.
Another highlight of Wordfest came on the second last day of the festival, when I was just about to head out for a bike ride and was instead wrangled at the last minute to fill in for Mary Trump, the big draw of the festival, who decided not to get on the plane to Calgary the day before and neglected to tell anyone until about an hour before she was supposed to go on stage to a sold-out crowd. As some of you may know, this wouldn’t be the first time I’ve bailed out a member of Trump family, having written ringtones for Donald Trump in 2004, when he was just a lowly game show host and not yet an aspiring fascist dictator (You can read about this in my second book, Dave Hill Doesn’t Live Here Anymore, written in a simpler time and unleashed on an unsuspecting public in spring of 2016).
“The Trump family,” I thought as I hastily changed out of my biking ensemble and into something more authorly (corduroy) back in my hotel room minutes before the event. “How do they manage to keep coming up with new ways to disappoint us?”
The erstwhile Mary Trump event ended up being a blast as a handful of other authors who had been pulled into service talked about the current hellscape that is life on Earth 2023 and I filled the air with relevant dick jokes and other important social commentary. I also sold a few books afterward and was even turned on to something called Cheesies, the Canadian equivalent (but better) of Cheetos, so that was nice.
From Calgary, I continued on to Toronto, where I did so many interviews over the course of a few days you would have sworn I was Thomas Pynchon or something (You are welcome for what I believe to be the very strong Thomas Pynchon-based joke I just made). One of the many things I love about Canada is that they will let me on television there, something I am hoping America becomes more open to in the near future. I even went on the national morning shows, the Canadian equivalents of The Today Show and Good Morning America, which was so awesome you’d think I remember the names of those Canadian shows, but typical American here, I guess. Cheetos, am I right?
I also did a really fun comedy show in Toronto at the Monarch Tavern right there in town with my friend Nick Flanagan and the hilarious Tim Gilbert and a hot band called Only God Forgives. The show was so packed I am deciding it was sold out without getting confirmation. During my set, I was joined on drums by Chris Murphy from Sloan and a bass player whose name I am deciding is Tom even though I am not sure because I am a showbiz monster. You are probably wondering whether I had dinner one night with Chris from Sloan and Brendan Canning from Broken Social Scene, what critics are calling one of the Canadian rockingest dinners of all-time. The only thing that would have made it rock harder is if Geddy Lee himself had sent over some complimentary appetizers. Next time. YYZ? Why not?
On the way home from Canada to the United States to tell my fellow Americans to buy my book, I got in trouble at the airport for trying to go through security with a set of nunchucks in my bag, the second time I have done this in my life, which is awesome. Earlier this year, I tried to get through airport security with a hatchet in my bag because I am literally the best guy. And if you’re wondering whether I am a lawless type as well, the answer is yes. To be clear though, I did all these things by accident, and trying not to giggle while the TSA agents and airport police question you about why you thought it was okay to have nunchucks is one of the hardest things to do in life. That said, it will probably happen again at some point, so watch here for updates.
Alright, that about covers it for now, mostly because my sweet dog Luci is begging me to play with her. But more soon. Oh, and go buy my book. Here is a link to Amazon but get it wherever you like! I promise you it has way less typos than this entry.
Off to the witch,
Dave Hill
Are they rubber nun-chucks or the seriously can kill you if you're stupid kind? I'm picturing actual nuns using these devices and it's like my new favorite thing to think about.
Well, Dave, so far, so good. I am thinking that perhaps I could use a bit of your tongue-in-cheek-iness to assist in lightening up my dreaded but not altogether satisfying seriousness. Forgive me please, if I do not become a paying subscriber immediately, as I tend to suffer a lot of guilt for not properly supporting stimulating input from other Substackers, and I probably have too many such subscriptions now. On the bright side, where you may be concerned, I am not a demanding subscriber. Output arrives when it arrives. Good luck with your book sales.