Posted on May 20, 2014 under Storytelling with one comment

This story recently appeared in the new publication, The Cape Breton Star. If you happen to be new to this website, this will give you a little background about Week45. If you’re a regular…..suffer!

 

 

Why is my column called Week45?  Glad you asked.

My wife Betty and I travel to Florida every November.  We own several weeks in a modest vacation complex; a time share arrangement.  We like this because we see the same people year after year and have become good friends with several of them.  Week 45 is early in November and there is certainly a lively bunch in residence.  What goes on during Week 45 …

Two years ago, on our annual trip, Betty and I had a heated discussion while waiting for our flight from Toronto to Tampa.  I won’t bore you with the details.  If you really want to know what happened, you’ll have to read my book.  It’s the first story and it’s called “You Can Never Be Too Careful”.  This tale, written on the back of a napkin in the airplane, was the first of many.

As far as I can tell, men and women view the world differently (!) and this is a theme that runs through many of my stories.  Betty edits most of what I write to keep me out of trouble.  I started writing in earnest about a year and a half ago and I currently write regularly for The Casket in Antigonish and The Fairview Post in Fairview, Alberta.

Here’s what you need to know.  My stories are short, they are easy to understand (no big words … I don’t know any) and they are mostly funny anecdotes about everyday life.

I grew up in a large Catholic family of ten in Antigonish.  This forms the background for many stories.  Some of you will remember being taught by the sisters and the rigorous preparation for the sacraments.  I have vivid recollections which I will share with you from time to time.  I grew up in a musical family so you will see many references to this, especially the songs of the 60’s and 70’s.  If any of you spent any time in Ingonish back in the day, our family band, “The Escorts”, played every weekend of the summer at St. Peter’s Hall.

Betty and I have four children and three grandchildren who have all inherited the music gene.  There is nothing more fun than finding a way to get them all home at the same time.  It’s the ultimate kitchen party, and there’s usually a story that comes out of it.  Life just keeps getting better.

Like many people, I have had several careers.  I taught briefly, spent many years in the non-profit sector and for the past twenty years I have been a financial planner.  Writing is my next career as I fully expect my business partners, Ron and Shane, are going to put me out to pasture any day now.  I will “not go gently into that good night.”

I am a sports fanatic.  I’ve participated in a variety of athletic activities and ran the Boston Marathon in 2011 and 2012. I am also a bit of a political junkie so you can see that I have lots of fodder for my stories.

Oh yes.  Most importantly, I am not a shopper.  I would rather have a root canal than go shopping.  I always get stuck in the slow checkout and, to keep our marriage together, I no longer shop with my wife … unless she insists.  (By “shopping” he means sitting on a bench with the newspaper – Editor)

Put it all together and you have Week45.  If you like my material you can get regular stories and rants by following my website:  www.week45.com.  Yes, I have been hauled kicking and screaming into the world of social media.  I can also be tracked on Facebook, Twitter and LinkedIn.

Welcome aboard!

 

Posted on May 19, 2014 under Monday Morning Musings with no comments yet

Let There Be Dirt

 

 

There is a god and she is merciful.  She blessed us with two absolutely stunning days on Friday and Saturday to launch the Victoria Day weekend.  It was so awesome to drive past Whidden’s Campground and smell the campfires burning in the pits.  Driving around town , you could just feel the exuberance that warm temperatures and sunshine can bring. The liquor store appeared to be doing a brisk business! And the gardeners were out in force.  Long weekends are life giving…. especially when the weather cooperates.

As some of you know, I am now writing a weekly column for the new publication, The Cape Breton Star. The first three stories have been published.  Many of these will be the same ones I have on my website but from time to time, I am going to try and write pieces that have a Cape Breton flavor.  On the weekend I was inspired to write such a piece.  I used to play a lot of golf and my absolute favorite course ( and I’ve played hundreds of them in different countries ), is the Cape Breton Highland Links in Ingonish. A lot of people , from what was once known as Industrial Cape Breton, used to go there in throngs.  In recent years, the powers that be, have jacked up the price of green fees and memberships and the course is now out of the reach of a lot of people.  I digress. This story, called “Mind Games” is about the first hole.  If you are a golfer, you could probably write the story. Even if you’re a non golfer, I think you would like it. I will post it on the Week45 website if there’s enough interest.

I also wrote a new story called “ A Love of Labor”… a twist on the more common phrase, a labor of love. Lots of people are passionate about things like gardening, quilting, carpentry and pets.  All of these would qualify as labors of love. The genesis of this story was talking to some folks recently. One of them came from a family of 13 kids and the other 14.  I have witnessed labor and delivery four times.  I’m trying to get my head around a woman doing this 14 times. Surely this is a “love of labor.”

If you hear that I have disappeared off the face of the earth, here’s a heads up on why this could happen.  I believe The Casket is going to publish an opinion piece this week penned by yours truly.  And it will be controversial.  It is my reaction to a couple of stories that I read in the local paper recently about the cooperation between the town and the county.  My story is in response to these pieces and the recently published Ivany report.  My opinion is nothing new.  I ran for mayor 10 years ago on this very platform.  I won’t be publishing it here at Week45.  It’s been nice knowing you!

Have a great week.

 

 

Posted on May 17, 2014 under Storytelling with one comment

NAGGED

 

 

Surely it must be spring.   Our property straddles the town and county so we have the best of both worlds.  We don’t have to worry about the well going dry, yet we are so close to nature that we can see it and touch it.  So close, in fact, that a bear was seen at our next door neighbor’s garbage can a few years back.  Because we are in a quiet neighborhood and can’t hear any traffic, the sounds of nature are easily discernable … especially at 4:30 in the morning.

These days, the first sound we hear, even before our radio alarm goes off, is the chirping of dozens of birds.  Is there any sweeter sound known to mankind, besides the sound of your spouse’s voice?  If you listen carefully, there is a distinct pattern that repeats itself every day.  It never gets tiresome.

However, in the real world of humans, things are quite different.  Repeated sounds can sometimes get quite irritating and, according to a study out of Denmark, can be life threatening.

You see, researchers have discovered that men who are nagged incessantly by their spouses have a shorter life expectancy.  By ten years.  Men who are perpetually nagged are 2.5 times more likely to die than their un-nagged counterparts.  I haven’t yet delved into the research to see how they collected this empirical evidence.  I’m only guessing here, but they probably did a survey of some sort and then followed these men until they died.   For some it would have been a very short study.

I saw a documentary recently about researchers who followed 14,000 people in a retirement community in California for over thirty years.  A disproportionate number of these people are in their nineties and several are 100+.  How did they achieve longevity?  Besides good genetics, a healthy lifestyle and a glass of wine every day, many attributed their good health to companionship and, dare I say, intimacy.  Many of these folks were still “romantically inclined”.  It is quite obvious that nagging was not a part of the daily diet.  (Evidently somebody was being nagged!  – Editor)

I am here to state, unequivocally, that I am not amongst those poor men who suffer spousal indignation on a daily basis.  It is only occasionally that I am reminded of my shortcomings.

Of course, the study also questioned the naggers.  They were surprised and a bit miffed that their spouses had singled them out for their unending chastisements.  One lady, who requested anonymity, suggested that men need to be nagged “because they are defective”.  Well, that pretty well sums it up into one tidy package.

Ever since I read about the study, I am more conscious of the birds outside of our bedroom window.  I am tempted to contact a local ornithologist and ask about the habits of our feathered friends.  I am now starting to have my doubts that the sounds I am hearing are mating calls.

If humans can be nagged to death, is it possible that the animal kingdom is any different?  Could the constant din in the wee hours of the morning be a female bird scolding her mate?

I guess we’ll have to get a government grant and do a study.  It’s for the birds, if you ask me.