This is not about food safety.

It’s about my cousin Shane

He died kayaking in BC when I was 19 in jail.

The only way I could go to the funeral was in handcuffs and leg shackles.

I politely declined.

Shane introduced me to The Guess Who and weed.

My uncle Larry, Shane’s father, and I, who eventually drove a truck for Molson’s and would honk at me during his trips to Guelph, would never talk about the deaths in our families; we’d just drink beer, but at some point I got tired of that.

Great afro or what?