A long, long time ago, there was a young boy named Kris Kringle. Now Kris was a difficult child and always getting into trouble at school. He picked on the other kids in his class, but none more so than wee Jesus. Jesus was extremely shy and suffered from a pronounced stutter. He was, unfortunately, a perfect target for the nasty Kris Kringle.

Did you know that Wayne Gretzky’s birthday is January 26th? And did you know that the work “posh” originated from when the wealthy British would travel to the continent? They preferred the shaded side of the ship, so their tickets were assigned “Port Over, Starboard Home”. And did you know that this and copious amounts of other ridiculous tidbits of useless information clog my brain to the point where there’s not much room for anything else? Seriously, my brain is full.

I have given up trying to figure out audiences. Actually, the idea of a group of people, no matter how large or small, who are mostly strangers to each other and you can be lumped together and treated as a unique entity is bizarre. But we do it all the time, as performers. We say “what a great audience” or “tough audience” and on and on.

I’m astounded at all the things we have to teach our kids. I knew signing up that being a parent is hard work, but the pressure to not screw them up is stunning. So, Shane and I really have tried to raise kids who are hard working, kind, fun-loving and warm; and I think (so far) we’re doing a pretty good job. But since Maddy turned 13, I’ve really started watching the teenagers of the world because the upcoming years are going to be so different from the ones we’ve already had.

I have a peculiar cross to bear; it would seem that I truly have the most forgettable face in all of Canadian showbiz. Now, I’m not looking for pity, I’m just stating an indisputable fact. I’m not even sure why, but I swear to God, people don’t remember me. And I don’t just mean audiences, I mean my peers, too. This is particularly frustrating because I have an amazing memory for names and faces.