The other day a U.S. news network emailed me to see if I wanted to do a radio interview about Canada’s Stanley Cup drought, which, as you all know, has just had its 32nd birthday; I presume somebody has done the decent thing and gone out and bought it a nice terry-cloth bathrobe or perhaps a stylish quarter-zip. I begged off from the request, citing pathological gloom, and resumed staring at the ceiling, an activity I intend to resume after I’ve written a few hundred words here. Nice to be back, by the way: please don’t ask how my little Oiler-fan break went.