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Content
Subject to change without notice,
or whenever I please.
I was going to say 'want' but I think 'please' is softer.
Subject to change without notice,
or whenever I please.
I was going to say 'want' but I think 'please' is softer.
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Sing
Find more music at the bottom of the page ↓↓↓
The songs only appear in web mode
The songs only appear in web mode
Follow Me on Instagram
17,177 Followers as of March 24, 2024
17,177 Followers as of March 24, 2024
Journey into the extraordinary life of Lindsay Wincherauk, a boy born in 1960 under the shadow of secrecy and shame at Beulah Home for wayward women in Edmonton, Alberta. Believed to be the seventh-born child of a family shrouded in deception, Lindsay’s life unfolds as a testament to resilience and self-discovery.
From the sandlots to the football field, Lindsay’s athletic prowess earned him accolades as an All-star + Provincial Champion in baseball and football, even becoming a National Champion and record-holding, inducted into three halls of fame quarterback despite being one-eyed blind. But beneath the surface, Lindsay grappled with a hidden truth that would shape his journey for decades to come.
Tragedy struck early in Lindsay’s life at an early age when cancer claimed the lives of both his parents, leaving him to navigate the turbulent waters of grief and loss throughout his twenties. However, the most shocking revelation came in 2003 during a seemingly routine request for a new birth certificate. In a drab bureaucratic exchange, a civil servant dropped a bombshell: Lindsay couldn’t renew his birth certificate until he contacted his parents and asked them who his real parents were. This demand struck Lindsay like a thunderbolt. He had spent over seven years watching the people he believed to be his parents succumb to illness, rendering the civil servant’s request impossible to fulfil. This revelation shattered Lindsay’s sense of identity, unravelling the carefully constructed façade of his family’s past and plunging him into a profound existential crisis.
As Lindsay embarks on a quest to uncover the truth of his origins, he confronts the ghosts of his past and discovers the painful reality of his birth parents’ identities. Yet, through it all, Lindsay’s irrepressible humour and resilience shine through, offering a beacon of hope amidst the darkness.
In 2016, Lindsay comes face to face with his birth mother on her deathbed, a poignant moment of closure and reconciliation that encapsulates his remarkable journey of self-discovery and forgiveness.
“Lindsay - A Life” is a poignant tale of resilience, redemption, and the enduring power of the human spirit. Join Lindsay Wincherauk as he navigates the complexities of identity, loss, and, ultimately, the triumph of the human heart.
From the sandlots to the football field, Lindsay’s athletic prowess earned him accolades as an All-star + Provincial Champion in baseball and football, even becoming a National Champion and record-holding, inducted into three halls of fame quarterback despite being one-eyed blind. But beneath the surface, Lindsay grappled with a hidden truth that would shape his journey for decades to come.
Tragedy struck early in Lindsay’s life at an early age when cancer claimed the lives of both his parents, leaving him to navigate the turbulent waters of grief and loss throughout his twenties. However, the most shocking revelation came in 2003 during a seemingly routine request for a new birth certificate. In a drab bureaucratic exchange, a civil servant dropped a bombshell: Lindsay couldn’t renew his birth certificate until he contacted his parents and asked them who his real parents were. This demand struck Lindsay like a thunderbolt. He had spent over seven years watching the people he believed to be his parents succumb to illness, rendering the civil servant’s request impossible to fulfil. This revelation shattered Lindsay’s sense of identity, unravelling the carefully constructed façade of his family’s past and plunging him into a profound existential crisis.
As Lindsay embarks on a quest to uncover the truth of his origins, he confronts the ghosts of his past and discovers the painful reality of his birth parents’ identities. Yet, through it all, Lindsay’s irrepressible humour and resilience shine through, offering a beacon of hope amidst the darkness.
In 2016, Lindsay comes face to face with his birth mother on her deathbed, a poignant moment of closure and reconciliation that encapsulates his remarkable journey of self-discovery and forgiveness.
“Lindsay - A Life” is a poignant tale of resilience, redemption, and the enduring power of the human spirit. Join Lindsay Wincherauk as he navigates the complexities of identity, loss, and, ultimately, the triumph of the human heart.
Curriculum Vitae
| 1._resume___cover_letter_2024.pdf |
Enter the world (mind) of Lindsay Wincherauk.
The creative wonderland of a man in his sixties who is trying to thread a needle with rope.
Writing. Photography. Art. Rants. Empathy. Kindness. Love. And Hana the cat!
And a whack of plus signs ++++++++++++++++ (16 = a whack).
The creative wonderland of a man in his sixties who is trying to thread a needle with rope.
Writing. Photography. Art. Rants. Empathy. Kindness. Love. And Hana the cat!
And a whack of plus signs ++++++++++++++++ (16 = a whack).
Follow Lindsay's War on Depression + Uncertainty (With Movement)
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Who is Lindsay Wincherauk?
Lindsay entered this world in a place where unwed mothers were ostracized, their ‘bastard’ offspring swiftly torn away, only to be trafficked into adoption, all in the name of rectifying their ‘error’ and protecting the façade of family and church.
Lindsay's not-dad Eulogy (written by Lindsay)
“Hello, my name is Lindsay, and I’m the son of my loving father. But here’s the thing - he wasn't really my father. It was the times. Screw the times. My not-dad was a hard-working man, albeit a bit of a coward. It was the times. When my mother, who wasn’t really my mother but was, got pregnant out of wedlock (with me), my dear not-dad sent her to a religious place to fix her and get rid of me. It didn’t work. Nobody wanted me. Not-dad loved to drink. He worked hard, I think, but who knows. He told me I was Romanian royalty. He also told me that the Premier of Saskatchewan’s son, Colin Thatcher, murdered my cousin, ‘Girl in Saskatoon.’ He also told me I was his son. He raised seven children lovingly, well, actually only six. I spent most of my life trying to get his attention. It didn’t work. After my football games, he would gush about one of his other sons. Are you laughing? That was the funny anecdote. When I turned 18, I got to spend six or seven years watching him slowly die - it felt like the times were still chasing us. Let me backtrack for a moment. He taught me how to drive, but he only let me drive in reverse. Maybe that’s the funny anecdote. Every night when he came home from work, he would fight with my mother in front of me, always about money and how burdensome it was to have another child - which I assume was me. During these fights, he would often punch himself in the head. I have to thank him for that, because it taught me to punch walls when I start slipping into fits of rage. His lung collapsed due to smoking. After, he snuck cigarettes in the bathroom. The smoke drifted under the door. Don’t get me wrong, I loved my not-dad, and I appreciate that he fed me and provided for me, taking the pressure off me having to do it myself. If there’s one thing, I want you to remember about my not-dad, it’s that his decision to keep me has left me haunted by ghosts throughout my life. After my not-dad and not-mum died, our family splintered apart, and I was finally gotten rid of, and I’m constantly reminded that I was never truly part of the family - I was nothing more than an expensive and unappreciated inconvenience.
Lindsay’s Eulogy (written by Abe):
Lindsay was kind-hearted, taller than average, and had a striking handsomeness. Most people found him likable, except those who found him loud and exhausting. He could run swiftly and hit a golf ball over 350 yards, perhaps even more than once. Above all, he cherished his family, even though he didn’t know who they are except for J, Hana, and perhaps Patchy. Lindsay had a wonderful sense of humour and brought joy and laughter to those around him, a gift he developed through his pain. He was a diligent worker known for his unwavering loyalty, sometimes to his detriment. Misunderstood by many due to his loud and alluring voice, some believed he spoke more than he listened, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Lindsay abhorred racism, and although some urged him to lighten up, they were categorically wrong. He is in three different Halls of Fame as a one-eyed blind quarterback. Ultimately, he aimed to make the world a slightly better place each day.
“Hello, my name is Lindsay, and I’m the son of my loving father. But here’s the thing - he wasn't really my father. It was the times. Screw the times. My not-dad was a hard-working man, albeit a bit of a coward. It was the times. When my mother, who wasn’t really my mother but was, got pregnant out of wedlock (with me), my dear not-dad sent her to a religious place to fix her and get rid of me. It didn’t work. Nobody wanted me. Not-dad loved to drink. He worked hard, I think, but who knows. He told me I was Romanian royalty. He also told me that the Premier of Saskatchewan’s son, Colin Thatcher, murdered my cousin, ‘Girl in Saskatoon.’ He also told me I was his son. He raised seven children lovingly, well, actually only six. I spent most of my life trying to get his attention. It didn’t work. After my football games, he would gush about one of his other sons. Are you laughing? That was the funny anecdote. When I turned 18, I got to spend six or seven years watching him slowly die - it felt like the times were still chasing us. Let me backtrack for a moment. He taught me how to drive, but he only let me drive in reverse. Maybe that’s the funny anecdote. Every night when he came home from work, he would fight with my mother in front of me, always about money and how burdensome it was to have another child - which I assume was me. During these fights, he would often punch himself in the head. I have to thank him for that, because it taught me to punch walls when I start slipping into fits of rage. His lung collapsed due to smoking. After, he snuck cigarettes in the bathroom. The smoke drifted under the door. Don’t get me wrong, I loved my not-dad, and I appreciate that he fed me and provided for me, taking the pressure off me having to do it myself. If there’s one thing, I want you to remember about my not-dad, it’s that his decision to keep me has left me haunted by ghosts throughout my life. After my not-dad and not-mum died, our family splintered apart, and I was finally gotten rid of, and I’m constantly reminded that I was never truly part of the family - I was nothing more than an expensive and unappreciated inconvenience.
Lindsay’s Eulogy (written by Abe):
Lindsay was kind-hearted, taller than average, and had a striking handsomeness. Most people found him likable, except those who found him loud and exhausting. He could run swiftly and hit a golf ball over 350 yards, perhaps even more than once. Above all, he cherished his family, even though he didn’t know who they are except for J, Hana, and perhaps Patchy. Lindsay had a wonderful sense of humour and brought joy and laughter to those around him, a gift he developed through his pain. He was a diligent worker known for his unwavering loyalty, sometimes to his detriment. Misunderstood by many due to his loud and alluring voice, some believed he spoke more than he listened, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Lindsay abhorred racism, and although some urged him to lighten up, they were categorically wrong. He is in three different Halls of Fame as a one-eyed blind quarterback. Ultimately, he aimed to make the world a slightly better place each day.
In "Possibilities," Lindsay wrestles with the final lines of this mesmerizing manuscript, recognizing a memoir, while a testament to the past, is only a moment frozen in the flow of life. As the author bids farewell to these pages, he embraces the essence of possibilities life offers, acknowledging that even amidst depression, uncertainty, fear, and pain, there lies potential for growth and transformation.
Being a memoir writer, Lindsay knows that life's journey doesn't end with the exclamation mark on the manuscript. The path continues to unfold before us, and it is the beauty of possibilities that keeps us moving forward. Along this path, he emphasizes the significance of movement — the act of continually evolving and remaining true to ourselves. Every step we take leads us closer to the person we are meant to be.
Lindsay recognizes the value of listening — to others, ourselves, and the world around us. Empathy and compassion become essential tools in understanding and connecting with others. In addition, he celebrates the unbridled joy found in comedy, recognizing the power of laughter to heal and uplift.
While Lindsay’s journey has been filled with grief and uncertainty, he reminds us that healing and recovery do not adhere to rigid timelines. Life’s challenges may be unpredictable, but every sunrise presents a new opportunity to move forward and embrace the possibilities that await us.
As the final lines of the manuscript take shape, Lindsay leaves the reader with a poignant message: Life is a journey, and though its path may be challenging, it is rife with opportunities for growth, understanding, and connection.
Embrace the possibilities that come your way, for they hold the key to shaping who you are meant to become. And as you continue along your path, remember to keep moving, even in the face of adversity, for tomorrow’s sun will rise, and new possibilities will emerge.
Lindsay Wincherauk from "My Days: July 2023"
Being a memoir writer, Lindsay knows that life's journey doesn't end with the exclamation mark on the manuscript. The path continues to unfold before us, and it is the beauty of possibilities that keeps us moving forward. Along this path, he emphasizes the significance of movement — the act of continually evolving and remaining true to ourselves. Every step we take leads us closer to the person we are meant to be.
Lindsay recognizes the value of listening — to others, ourselves, and the world around us. Empathy and compassion become essential tools in understanding and connecting with others. In addition, he celebrates the unbridled joy found in comedy, recognizing the power of laughter to heal and uplift.
While Lindsay’s journey has been filled with grief and uncertainty, he reminds us that healing and recovery do not adhere to rigid timelines. Life’s challenges may be unpredictable, but every sunrise presents a new opportunity to move forward and embrace the possibilities that await us.
As the final lines of the manuscript take shape, Lindsay leaves the reader with a poignant message: Life is a journey, and though its path may be challenging, it is rife with opportunities for growth, understanding, and connection.
Embrace the possibilities that come your way, for they hold the key to shaping who you are meant to become. And as you continue along your path, remember to keep moving, even in the face of adversity, for tomorrow’s sun will rise, and new possibilities will emerge.
Lindsay Wincherauk from "My Days: July 2023"
From an obfuscated beginning, shrouded in neglect, life unfurled in riddles indecipherable. Serendipitously, kindred spirits—companions and their kin—extended salvaging hands, and under their warmth, the seeds of my imagination began to sprout. Aimlessly I drifted, a compass without north, a perpetual ricochet against life’s relentless walls. Chaos reigned supreme—until mortality’s cold whisper, grief’s clenched fist, and the leering specters of abandonment and trepidation jolted my essence violently. A detonation sent shockwaves through my being: disarray embodied, shattered, trembling in the abyss.
In the theater of chaos, I encountered the phantoms of death, heartache, isolation, and fear, each act escalating until an explosive revelation shattered my essence. My soul, ravaged and laid bare, I plunged into the wreckage of my past, desperate to piece together the fragments of a life disarrayed.
Amidst the tumultuous journey of self-destruction, where sabotage stripped away the scant shreds of good in my existence, I imploded, sinking to nadirs unseen. However, from that abyss, the careful hands of camaraderie reached out, hauling me toward redemption.
I, with my often spoke of sexy feet, turned ash and despair to the fuel of my resurrection. Like the mythical phoenix, I soared from my own incineration—tears streaming, knees buckling, yet enduring the relentless cycle of life’s ricochet. In spite of renewed cascades of sorrow, the unshakable truth persisted—I was, am, and perhaps will ever be, beautifully flawed.
Amid the resurgence, Europe’s eclectic chorus sang an ode to the beauty of imperfection. Embraced in their melody, I ascended once more—only to find myself in a solitary free fall, kinless, hitting the cradle of rock bottom yet again. Sobs wracked my frame; yearnings for nonexistence clung like ivy to my thoughts. Alienation’s cold fingers prodded at my resolve until, defiant, I stood anew, a smile defiantly painted on my lips, a question mark shaping my identity.
Discovery beckoned as anger ebbed; but life, relentless in its whims, struck with surgical precision: the youngest, my beacon of kinship, stricken from existence—followed too soon by the architects of my creation and kindred blood. A cataclysmic ailment rent my vessel, yet amidst cascading loss, empathy blossomed—for mother, for father, for their progenitors, tangled in a lineage of unanswered enigmas.
Truth gnawed at my core: blame is but a fool’s errand in this starkly human pageant. Yet, through the sorrows and unwitting falsehoods, I stand resolute—smiling must transcend the days, as regrets hold no dominion over the soul I have crafted from this maelstrom of existence. I emerge not with regret, but with profound recognition of the person I have become.
- The Days in the Life of Lindsay Wincherauk ~The Travails of an Unwanted Son~
In the theater of chaos, I encountered the phantoms of death, heartache, isolation, and fear, each act escalating until an explosive revelation shattered my essence. My soul, ravaged and laid bare, I plunged into the wreckage of my past, desperate to piece together the fragments of a life disarrayed.
Amidst the tumultuous journey of self-destruction, where sabotage stripped away the scant shreds of good in my existence, I imploded, sinking to nadirs unseen. However, from that abyss, the careful hands of camaraderie reached out, hauling me toward redemption.
I, with my often spoke of sexy feet, turned ash and despair to the fuel of my resurrection. Like the mythical phoenix, I soared from my own incineration—tears streaming, knees buckling, yet enduring the relentless cycle of life’s ricochet. In spite of renewed cascades of sorrow, the unshakable truth persisted—I was, am, and perhaps will ever be, beautifully flawed.
Amid the resurgence, Europe’s eclectic chorus sang an ode to the beauty of imperfection. Embraced in their melody, I ascended once more—only to find myself in a solitary free fall, kinless, hitting the cradle of rock bottom yet again. Sobs wracked my frame; yearnings for nonexistence clung like ivy to my thoughts. Alienation’s cold fingers prodded at my resolve until, defiant, I stood anew, a smile defiantly painted on my lips, a question mark shaping my identity.
Discovery beckoned as anger ebbed; but life, relentless in its whims, struck with surgical precision: the youngest, my beacon of kinship, stricken from existence—followed too soon by the architects of my creation and kindred blood. A cataclysmic ailment rent my vessel, yet amidst cascading loss, empathy blossomed—for mother, for father, for their progenitors, tangled in a lineage of unanswered enigmas.
Truth gnawed at my core: blame is but a fool’s errand in this starkly human pageant. Yet, through the sorrows and unwitting falsehoods, I stand resolute—smiling must transcend the days, as regrets hold no dominion over the soul I have crafted from this maelstrom of existence. I emerge not with regret, but with profound recognition of the person I have become.
- The Days in the Life of Lindsay Wincherauk ~The Travails of an Unwanted Son~
Lindsay Has Worked As
Dishwasher + Gardiner + Waiter + Bartender + Hotel Manager + Coach + Bartender + Sales Representative + Shipper/Receiver + Hair Model + Bartender + Insurance Agent + DJ + Bartender + Landscaper + Opinion Editorialist (24 Hours Vancouver) + Telephone Solicitor + Construction Worker + Bar Manager + Core Sample Tester + Hair Product Huckster + Bouncer + Almost Nude Model + Movie + Television X-tra + Night Security + Human Resources Guru + Event Planer + Editor + Humourist/Comic + Author.
A Life of Experience
Throughout my career life spanning over 45 years, I have held a diverse range of roles, each contributing to my wealth of experience and skill set. From my humble beginnings as a Dishwasher and Gardener to leadership positions such as Hotel Manager and Human Resources Guru, I have continually adapted and thrived in various industries and environments.
My journey includes stints as a Waiter, Bartender, Sales Representative, and Shipper/Receiver, where I honed my customer service and organizational abilities. I ventured into creative fields as a DJ, Opinion Editorialist for 24 Hours Vancouver, and Author, showcasing my versatility and passion for expression.
Additionally, I’ve contributed to various sectors, including Construction, Insurance, and Entertainment, bringing my expertise to diverse projects and challenges. From managing events and editing content to providing humour and insight as a Humourist/Comic, I have embraced each opportunity with enthusiasm and dedication.
My career life been marked by adaptability, resilience, and a relentless pursuit of excellence.
My journey includes stints as a Waiter, Bartender, Sales Representative, and Shipper/Receiver, where I honed my customer service and organizational abilities. I ventured into creative fields as a DJ, Opinion Editorialist for 24 Hours Vancouver, and Author, showcasing my versatility and passion for expression.
Additionally, I’ve contributed to various sectors, including Construction, Insurance, and Entertainment, bringing my expertise to diverse projects and challenges. From managing events and editing content to providing humour and insight as a Humourist/Comic, I have embraced each opportunity with enthusiasm and dedication.
My career life been marked by adaptability, resilience, and a relentless pursuit of excellence.
Curriculum Vitae
| 1._resume___cover_letter_2024.pdf |
| 31._possibilities_-_dream_chasers.pdf |
what i do every day?
The Given
The Given
- i update the site.
- i Write.
- i usually go to the Fitness Asylum.
- i Pitch.
- i Read.
- i Walk.
- i Write More.
- i Create.
Oh yeah, and an autodidact, to boot
A Lindsay Musing
The crying heart does not seek an echo; it seeks solace, aid—a hand to hold.
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IN THE PRODUCTION LAB
Book Lengths: A Guide for Writers
Flash Fiction: 1-1,000 words.
Short Story: 1,000-10,000 words.
Chap Books: 4,000-10,000 words (20-40 pages).
Novelette: 7,500-20,000 words.
Novellas: 17,500-40,000 words.
Novel: 50,000+ words.
Short Story: 1,000-10,000 words.
Chap Books: 4,000-10,000 words (20-40 pages).
Novelette: 7,500-20,000 words.
Novellas: 17,500-40,000 words.
Novel: 50,000+ words.
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| surviving_life__a_passage_from_humans_bistro_.pdf |
| corporations_caring_for_the_people.pdf |
Cover Art: Lindsay Wincherauk
2021 ~ 2022 ~ 2023 ~ 2024
↑↑↑ LW original art ↑↑↑
Book Passages or |poems|
Tru + Joy Find Love by Lindsay Wincherauk
$5.00 of each book sale goes to "The Falling Through the Cracks Foundation.
Battling homeless one donation at a time - judgement-free.
Battling homeless one donation at a time - judgement-free.
Homeless @ 63 + This |Poems|
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+ Food Insecurity + Never Give Up + Carbon Footprint + Fear Personified + Depression
| homeless___63.pdf |
My Freshest Book Thoughts
Completed + Almost Manuscripts
|I wrote or am in the process of writing|
|I wrote or am in the process of writing|
- Lindsay - The Memoir
- Glue
- Chasing Neon
- Canned: Fired @ 59
- The Stairs
- Drawings by Harlan
- Tru & Joy Find Love
- A 60-Year-Old-Man Running in Flip Flops
- Laugh
- I'm Not a Poet: Volume 1
- E.X.P.E.R.I.M.E.N.T.A.L
- My Days: June 2023
- My Days: July 2023
- My Days: August-September 2023 (Featuring: Abe)
- Lindsay Musings: Volume 1 or if you prefer:
- The Days in the Life of Lindsay Wincherauk: The Travails of an Unwanted Son - Vol 1: 'Have' and 'Have Not'
- The Days in the Life of Lindsay Wincherauk: The Travails of an Unwanted Son - Vol 2: Half Blind
- The Days in the Life of Lindsay Wincherauk: The Travails of an Unwanted Son - Vol 3: Plus 15
- The Days in the Life of Lindsay Wincherauk: The Travails of an Unwanted Son - Vol 4: Prose
- We Remember the Darts
- Humans' Bistro (In the Production Lab)
I want to make a difference in this world!
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Follow Me on Instagram
Where I Am @ Now
| where_im_at_now.pdf |
Now Open!!!
The Sleeping Seagull Bookstore
All books $20.00
$5.00 Held in Trust For:
The Falling Through the Cracks Foundation
The Sleeping Seagull Bookstore
All books $20.00
$5.00 Held in Trust For:
The Falling Through the Cracks Foundation
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| 1._sleeping_seagull_books_-_2024_catalogue.pdf |
$20.00 per book
$5.00 of each book sale goes towards The Falling Through the Cracks Foundation (in trust)
+ Battling Poverty Judgement Free
$5.00 of each book sale goes towards The Falling Through the Cracks Foundation (in trust)
+ Battling Poverty Judgement Free
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Falling Through The Cracks Foundation
Battling Poverty One Donation at a Time: Judgment Free
Battling Poverty One Donation at a Time: Judgment Free
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$25 CAD raised of $50,000 goal
Join the Movement
At 63, he finds himself trapped in a purgatory where he is too young to retire yet not old enough to receive sufficient support from Old Age Security. It has been twenty years since he last had to search for a job, and now he is thrust into a job market that no longer recognizes his worth or experience.
The last time he searched for work, the internet was still in its infancy. No matter how hard he tries, all he has to offer are his life experiences, which seem to hold little value in this chaotic world.
The last time he searched for work, the internet was still in its infancy. No matter how hard he tries, all he has to offer are his life experiences, which seem to hold little value in this chaotic world.
For what it’s worth, I’ve started a GoFundMe Page.
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Perhaps Humanities Priorities are Skewed
Sparkly Pingle Ball is a fig-mint of my imagination. Minty. Every time, you wonder who the hell I'm talking with, it's Sparkly.
Who are you?
If you think, I'm crazy, ask yourself one thing: Have you ever watched Family Guy? Or . . . ?
Sparkly's key role is to keep moving the narrative along. And to be hot!
Who are the voices in your head?
Embrace them. Love them. You are not alone.
Who are you?
If you think, I'm crazy, ask yourself one thing: Have you ever watched Family Guy? Or . . . ?
Sparkly's key role is to keep moving the narrative along. And to be hot!
Who are the voices in your head?
Embrace them. Love them. You are not alone.
Write. Read. Sing. Dance. Be Kind.
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THIS SITE IS BEST VIEWED ON A DESKTOP OR IN WEB MODE
unconditional
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