Photocredit: Lloydminster Little Theatre

It’s Patrick Ross’ birthday today. He is 37.

More than seven and a half years ago, I wrote about what proved to be the initial chapter of a seemingly never-ending legal saga. My friend Robert Day, better known to friends and enemies alike as Canadian Cynic, has been in the courts ever since, trying to recover some semblance of damages awarded for a grotesque libel against him.

Like other fish, mudfish are slippery. Ross proved hard to find, and, when found, he used every means possible, including declaring bankruptcy, to avoid the initial undefended default judgement against him. The story has many twists and turns, all fairly boring, to be honest, but very recently reality appears—finally—to have caught up with him.

First, Ross’ appeal of an unfavourable bankruptcy judgement in 2014, left dormant until very recently, was slapped down by a judge mere weeks ago. A further action by Ross, consisting of a bizarre attempt to have Day found guilty of contempt of court for attempting to suggest a reasonable settlement several dollars short of what he was owed after the 2010 judgement, was ruthlessly crushed by another judge earlier this week, who delivered his brutal smackdown from the bench.

We can all remember birthdays, both good ones and bad ones. There is usually, but not always, a cake, and people offer a few pro forma good wishes. I’m a creature of tradition, so let me offer mine.

Patrick, an aspiring novelist and thespian, is presently unemployed (or so my sources tell me), a university dropout and a bankrupt, who has moved back in with his parents. He has repeatedly failed to whack the judicial piñata, and now sits in a six-figure financial hole that he has been digging for many years. I hope he has finally put down his shovel.

At this point the words of Dante come to mind: “Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita, mi ritrovai per una selva oscura ché la diritta via era smarrita.” In the middle of life’s journey, Patrick, too, has found himself in a dark wood, having lost the straight path. May his birthday mark a turning-point, and may the second half of his life be more fruitful—and happier—than the first. I wish him success in making that change.