The Canadian Rogues– Run And Hide / Love And Dreams

I picked up this absolute monster a few years back — right here locally, which still feels like spotting a moose in a Walmart parking lot. The Canadian Rogues. From Lakeland, Florida. It’s the kind of geographical plot twist that makes me wonder if the universe is just messing with me for sport. Perfect, honestly, because if you’ve ever been in Florida during winter, you know it turns into a temporary Canadian province. Snowbirds everywhere. You can practically hear the faint echo of “sorry” drifting across the Gulf (of Mexico).

And I do wonder — with the current bullshit arena we’re all watching unfold — whether Florida’s getting boycotted by the Canadian snowbirds. I picture them holding emergency meetings: “Okay, lads, we’re skipping Florida this year. Too spicy. We’re going to… Jamaica.” Then they all nod solemnly and eat Timbits.

Anyway — flashback to Clearwater, ten years ago, when I was down there taking care of my mother‑in‑law’s place. I wandered into this record store that looked like it had been hit by a 45‑rpm tornado. Boxes everywhere. Stacks. Piles. Geological layers of vinyl sediment. And there’s this guy — list in hand — hunting obscure doo‑wop like he’s on a government mission. From Canada, of course. Wintering in Florida. Naturally. The ecosystem is consistent.

This Canadian Rogues 45? Fantastic two‑sider. First Paris Tower label I ever found. And you KNOW I’m a sucker for extras —pictures, flyers, weird little promo writeups, anything that looks like it was photocopied in 1965 by a guy named Earl. I live for that stuff.

So here’s the plan for my Saturday: I am going to relish the start of my vacation like a man who has earned it through sheer stubbornness. Sure, I’ll have to work a few hours during the week — because apparently, I enjoy punishing myself — but mostly it’s going to be me, the computer, a stack of 45s, and the sweet hum of digitizing songs like some kind of vinyl‑powered monk.

And then? Colorado game prep. Manifesting a big beatdown so we can be 2–0, baby. Sko Buffs. I want the kind of victory that makes the opposing team question their sport choices and maybe take up pottery.