It’s been a long time coming: after spending 10 months deep in the bowels of Europe, tucked squarely in the beating heart of Catholicism right near the tomb of St. Peter (the Prince of the Apostles). Ryan Millar has been hiding out in Italy. In Rome in fact, the cradle of Western Civilization. The city in the mid-shin of the Italic boot peninsula, the once mighty city that all roads led to. The city Nero fiddled for. Ryan’s time has been spent scavenging pizza and vino, dousing every edible morsel in olive oil and trying to live down the title of straniero. His unhealthy obsession with the AS Roma football squad and Rome’s civic history has raised psychological concerns, as has his repeated exposure to the Sistine Chapel. There is often a tourettically blurting of random Italian phrases followed by a look of uncomfortable expectation.
It’s a jungle out here, no question.
For this reson, this man is going back to the source. Back home to Vancouver Canada. Charge the batteries. See the people he once fought shoulder to shoulder with and hug them. Train. Grow bigger, faster and stronger, and then return to Europe to do serious damage, Canadian style. An important retreat to base camp, if only for a couple of weeks of regular egg and potato breakfasts, Canucks hockey, family, friends, beers, push ups, improv comedy, Commercial Drive, live rock n’roll, family poker nights, Stanley Park, Pacific Ocean, rain and trees, Vancouver(the city and the Island), films in English, potluck dinner parties, Vancouver Art Gallery, Bubble tea, impossible amounts of sushi and laughter.
This will be done. Soon.
