Posted on March 20, 2014 under Thursday Tidbits with 2 comments

Adam Scott

 

 

Ok ladies. It’s not polite to drool in public. The picture above is of Adam Scott. He is the number 2 golfer in the world, he’s Australian so he has the accent, he’s a gazillionaire and …. wait for this, he’s single.

Well, it was an amazing week hanging out in Florida with my son, Peter. We spent several days at the Bay Hill Golf Club ( owned by Arnold Palmer ) during the practice rounds for the big tournament coming up this weekend. We saw just about all the big names in golf. Rory wasn’t there and Tiger withdrew. It’s fun watching people at the top of their profession. It was also great to get away from winter for a spell.

I certainly haven’t taken a vacation from writing. I have all kinds of new story ideas and penned four new ones while on the trip. I was mentioning on Facebook the other day about an infamous occurrence on a golf trip to Pinehurst, North Carolina. Pinehurst has been a golf mecca for a long time and people come from all over the world to play on the nine courses that make up the complex. It is a high end resort, so you are wondering what I was doing there?

I was a guest of a relative. I’ll cut to the chase. On the final night of our stay,  I wore my kilt to the five star dining room. You must wear jackets and ties. I won’t spoil the story but there was alcohol involved. And the wait staff  were all African Americans who had never seen a kilt. Use your imagination. Coming soon, “Right Up Yer Kilt.”

Back in 1973, I was working  in Victoria , B.C. after graduating from St.F.X.  On one memorable Victoria Day ( the actual holiday ) several members of my family, including my father, attended the Victoria Day parade. Dave Barrett was the Premier at the time and he was the parade marshal.  At the conclusion of the parade, we retired to a watering hole. Well, one thing led to another and before you could hum “Barrett’s Privateer’s” we were off to the premier’s home in Esquimalt for an informal visit. Our father was horrified. Learn more when I publish the story “ Grin and Barrett.”

I’m thinking that this Saturday would be an excellent time to release my story about the appalling client service I received at a car rental agency when I arrived in Florida. You might detect just a hint of sarcasm in the piece “Hurtz Like Hell.” The alternate title could be “Hurtz. Like Hell.”

And of course, I took a stab at a touchy subject…sex education,  in the story “Everything You Wanted to Know About.”

I’ll be back in the country later this evening and at my desk in the morning.

Have a great weekend..

 

Posted on March 19, 2014 under Storytelling with one comment

 

 

“I’ve been a miner for a heart of gold.”

Heart of Gold by Neil Young

You hear the first few bars of a song and you are instantly transported back in time.

Try listing your 10 favorite albums and artists of all time.  It’s not as easy as you think.  I tried it a while ago and the list just multiplied.  I started with my absolute favorite and quickly filled in numbers 2-10.

Where were you on February 4, 1972?  I know exactly where I was.  I was standing in a lineup at the Coop (pronounced like chicken coop,) waiting to purchase a 33 vinyl record by Neil Young.  The Coop was the precursor to the Student Union building and was located in Confusion Square, now a lovely garden near the edge of the university.  Back in 1971, that same square was the epicentre for a strike that sent students home before the school year ended.  In case you’ve forgotten, co-ed housing was the pivotal issue.

In the spring of 1971, Neil Young’s “Harvest” was getting a bit of buzz in the lead up to its release.  I managed to scrape up the $3.14 that they were asking.  Hey, that was a lot of money back then.  Three bucks could get you three quarts of beer at the Triangle and enough left over to tip the waiter.

The needle hit the record and every song on that album was indelibly etched in my memory.  I thought about serenading Betty on our wedding day with the cut “A Man Needs a Maid”.  Then I thought … perhaps not.  (You came to your senses – Editor)

I never met Percy Sledge.  But when I hear the first few notes on the Hammond organ, I melt.  It’s the unmistakable beginning of “When a Man Loves a Woman”.   When you’re a teenager, you fall in love often.  Sometimes weekly, maybe even daily.  And if there is one song that haunts many of my generation, it is surely Percy’s classic.

Another song that was popular but certainly not among the classics holds a special memory for me.  On September 28, 1972, I was at home in Antigonish along with a dozen or so guys.  We were watching a hockey game, and not just any hockey game.  It was game eight of the Summit Series with the Russians.  You know how that one ended.  Every time Canada scored, we played the 1971 Isaac Hayes song “Shaft”.  When Henderson scored his magic goal, we turned the volume up to ten and proceeded to campus carrying a large Canadian flag.  Isaac will never know how important he was to the outcome of that game.

I have traversed this great country from sea to shining sea eight times.  Put that on your “bucket list”.  You will not be disappointed.  You will realize the vastness of Canada and you will have time to reflect.  And while you are driving you will have plenty of time to listen to music.  If you are in Victoria , point your car eastward, hit the accelerator and choose from the following tunes: “Highway Star” by Deep Purple,  “Roll on Down the Highway” by Bachman Turner Overdrive or “Born to be Wild” by Steppenwolf.  It’s better if you can find an 8 track.  Make sure you crank it up and feel free to strum your fingers on the steering wheel.

Don’t forget to stop in Winnipeg.  While Maritimers like to lay claim to the title of “party central”, they can’t hold a candle to Manitobans.  Go to Bird’s Hill Park and hang out at the Winnipeg Folk Festival.  Or better still, drop in on a friend, as I did once back in the mid-eighties.  It took me until Wawa, Ontario before I got the cobwebs out from that party.  Oh, and speaking of Manitoba, how long does it take to cross this province?  Exactly 24 beer and four guys.  Been there.  Done that.

I have been to “The Dark Side of the Moon” and back.  “My life has been a tapestry of rich and royal hue”.   I listen to “Rumours”, especially the ones created by Fleetwood Mac.  I’m never “Running on Empty” with Jackson Browne as my companion.   Let me rhapsodize with mega doses of mercury, Freddie that is.  I will never be a “Pinball Wizard but Who is?

Every song has a memory.  The soundtrack of our lives.

Posted on March 17, 2014 under Monday Morning Musings with no comments yet

The 18th. at Bay Hill

 

Sometimes a fella gets it wrong and has to fess up.  I went on a little rant last week about client service and how Nova Scotians have to pick it up a notch. I stand my ground on that one.  I went on to compare us to our counterparts in Florida who seem to have client service ingrained in their DNA.  As some of you know, I am in the Orlando area this week attending the Arnold Palmer Bay Hill golf tournament.

There have been a lot of travel nightmares this winter and luckily I didn’t have any snags.  I actually arrived several hours earlier than I expected due to a set of unusual circumstances. Those of you who have been to Disney understand their obsessive attention to detail.  It really starts at the airport, one of the cleanest and most efficient you will find anywhere.  By the time you deplane and take the 45 second shuttle ride to the main terminal, your bags are coming off the carousel.  Amazing.

Everything was going smoothly until I went to pick up my car rental.  I won’t spoil the story but you will easily guess the car company I was dealing with.  The story is called “Hurtz Like Hell.” Or I may go with “Hurtz. Like Hell.”  The tone is the same.  I may have to receive legal counsel before publishing this one. All of us have a trace of sarcasm looming just below the surface.  Mine virtually leapt out of my skin when I penned this gem.

While waiting for Peter to travel from Victoria to Orlando, I spent part of the day Saturday wandering around Arnie’s backyard: the Bay Hill Golf Club.  I picked up our passes for the tournament.  This is a big tournament with the likes of Tiger Woods and Phil Mickelsen in attendance.  The place was a beehive of activity with The Golf Channel and CBS setting up their broadcasting facilities and hundreds of other people scurrying around trying to get things ready for the tens of thousands of spectators.

Unless you have a VIP pass, you won’t get near some areas but on this day, with everyone so preoccupied, I simply walked where I felt like.  I put my pass around my neck and was carrying an envelope.  With a purposeful stride, I walked anywhere and everywhere as if I owned the joint.  I went into the “champions dining room”, wandered the hallways of the clubhouse and , best of all, walked around the course.  I took lots of pictures.  The one above is the famous 18^th. hole.  If you flick on your TV this weekend, you will see lots of this hole.

Enough on that subject.

I know you will be waiting with baited breath for this one: a story about sex education.  What in the hell is baited breath anyway?  Surely you remember your first introduction to the “birds and the bees.”  I bet one American dollar that you didn’t get your formal education on the subject from your parents.  More likely, it was “dirty Johnny.”  Coming soon, “Everything You Wanted to Know About.”

I received some wonderful feedback on the story, “Head on Collision.”  If you didn’t have time to read it, go to my website and track it down.  While the story was meant to be light hearted and humorous, it bordered more on poignancy.  It really struck a chord with people who actually live this existence of the long commute to work.  The actual story is fictitious but the content was very real.

My Tuesday story this week is on Wednesday.  My loyal following ( all 3 of you! ) already know that every second week,  my Tuesday story comes out a day late to coincide with publication in our local paper , The Casket . I expect a lot of feedback from this one.  It’s called “The Songs We Sang.”  There are a lot of songs that evoke powerful memories for us.  You hear the first few notes and you are magically transported back in time.  It is quite stunning how the brain retains the sounds, sights and smells of events that happened a long time ago.

Here’s hoping you have a great week.