Please stop howling at the moon

This article rips on my old pal from U of T days, Chris

Unfortunately, my neighbours on the other side have different views. Most pointedly, they don’t share my opinion that, like heat and sex, singing at the top of one’s lungs is necessary to a happy existence, a cheaper alternative to other endorphin-coaxing practices and very close to a human right. Our divergent philosophies became evident one Saturday at 5am, as I did some some vocal jamming with Melanie, Dobie Gray and a few other K-Tel refugees while waging the eternal war against dirty dishes.

He gets his back, however, in today’s letters to the editor

Faulty logic and self-absorbed attitude notwithstanding, McLaughlin is a better writer than singer. How do I know that for sure? I’m the neighbour next door.


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