Atkins

I’m lucky. I have a number of friends and colleagues whom I have known for many years.

Politics is always potentially crazy and fraught with intrigue. And why not. It’s about power, and power is the ultimate aphrodisiac. The curious thing is trying to figure out what it is that determines success or failure.

I was in Ottawa a while back to celebrate Christmas with our employees at Conceptshare Inc. and found myself face to face with the new and rapidly expanding “sharing economy.

My friend died a few weeks ago battling for life the way he lived it: full throttle. I met Ron in the fall of 1973. I was the editor of the Manitoulin Expositor. I didn’t know anyone in Sudbury and needed an accountant. Someone recommended Ron.

My love affair with Northern Ontario started in a small dingy office in the Port Arthur Post Office next door to Michael Gravelle, our current minister of Northern Development and Mines. It was 1971.

When I was in my teens in the 1960s, I used to steal away from Don Mills, Canada’s first completely planned and boring community, and go downtown to Yorkville, in Toronto, where something really seemed to be happening.

It’s been a long time since I took a little time out waiting for the old swing bridge at Little Current, Manitoulin Island, to grant me access to this fantastic “largest freshwater lake island in the world.

It was a modest start, but my fabulous career at the CBC began at the old Parliament Street radio studio in Toronto where each Friday night the Nimmons “N” Nine Jazz Trio played a fantastic live jazz concert.

A couple of weeks ago the Laurentian School of Architecture held an auction — for fish huts. I can’t tell you much about it because as of this writing, it hasn’t actually happened.

I have been extraordinarily lucky. When I was 22 years old I had no clue what I wanted to do with my life. When I was 23 years old, I fell into a journalistic job in Thunder Bay and knew that was it.