On April 16, 1986, I walked into the Fort Saskatchewan Record to start actually earning a living as a journalist. Not only am I still doing it, I still want to!

NOTE: It's in progress and will be for a while (updated Fri. night).

I got a ride from one of my colleagues to the Lawrence Station on the Yonge line subway, so I rode down to College to catch a streetcar home.

At Spadina, a guy with an African-style drum gets on (I don't know the drum's name, but it was hourglass-shaped). He giddily thrusts his transfer right in the operator's face.

"Why did do you do that?" sputtered the operator.

"Because I love you, bruddah!" said the drummer man as he walked back, a big, sloppy grin on his face and a carefree spring in his step.

At the back, he starts to drum near the Borden St. stop adjacent to Amato's Pizza on College.

"No drumming or I'm kicking you off," said the very stern-sounding operator.

About three seconds past the next stop at Bathurst, there's a few more beats. "Oops, sorry," giggled the drummer.

At Euclid, there was no one waiting for the streetcar, and no one had rang for a stop, yet the streetcar jolted to a halt.

"Off," the operator told the drummer man.

"You're kicking me off, but that's OK -- I still love you, bruddah!" giggled the drummer man as he exited the back doors.

Much exchanging of raised-eyebrow looks amongst the other passengers at this seemingly draconian response.

Molly the deli mouser survived her two-week ordeal, trapped in the wall of the Greenwich Village Delicatessen, her rescue completed Friday night.

"She appeared calm in front of the media, which have followed her plight intensely," reported the BBC.

No word yet on book or movie deals -- or an Oprah appearance.