Posted on April 13, 2015 under Monday Morning Musings with no comments yet

Linden, Len and Betty discussing politics and religion , no doubt!

( Jean Pearcey photo )

 

 

“On the road again, I can’t wait to get on the road again.” Willie Nelson

Yes. Pete and I are back at it again. We’ll be rolling through Wyoming and South Dakota today on our way to Madison Wisconsin, Chicago, and  Detroit,  crossing in to Canada at Windsor and on to the Maritimes. Pete has a gig in Stewiacke on Friday night so we won’t be stopping for any sightseeing tours. It’s definitely “pedal to the metal” time.

I flew out to Vancouver last Friday and early Saturday morning we were off and running crossing the border into the United States at 9:00 a.m.

Last week is a bit of a blur. Let me rephrase that. Life is a blur. I haven’t found out yet how to slow down the train. Have you? Our big news is that we sold our house. It took time ( the better part of three years ) and patience but last Tuesday we got the call from our realtor. By the end of May, right around the time my mom turns 90, we should be passing over the keys. And that’s it. No more home ownership for us. Moving to a 2 bedroom apartment is not everybody’s cup of tea but we are thrilled with a major downsizing.

Last Thursday, I had the honor of being the Emcee at the 2015 Antigonish Chamber of Commerce President’s Dinner.  I had the opportunity to spend most of the evening with our  guest speaker, CBC investigative journalist and author, Linden MacIntyre. For 24 years, Linden worked on the CBC program “The Fifth Estate.” He travelled the world and met presidents, prime ministers and criminals.( some commonalities? ) What impressed me the most was that he hasn’t forgotten where he came from: Judique. He has maintained his humility and is not big on his “celebrity” status. Actually, he doesn’t have much use for people with inflated egos. He delighted a record turnout of some 170 people. I had a lot of fun and it was a great experience. Sitting and talking with Linden throughout dinner was just like talking with one of my old friends from St.F.X. days.

There was a big announcement last week. One of the teams for the Hot Meal at St.James Church is Bergengren Credit Union. When they came on board last fall, Carolyn Grant told me about a grant program through one of their partners in business, Concentra Financial. She decided to apply for money for the Hot Meal program and last week , Bergengren was informed that Concentra would be contributing $10,000 to the Hot Meal program. All of us associated with the program were both speechless and elated. This will feed a lot of hungry people. We are hoping to get a representative from Concentra to come to one of our Hot Meals to put on an apron to see where their money is going.

Sometimes, you just have to do crazy things. Not sure if it’s called spontaneity or sheer madness but yesterday, I rented a hotel room twice in one day in two different cities. Wha? Yup. It was the final round at The Masters golf tournament and Peter and I are keen golf fans. We put in a good five hours on the road then pulled into Billings, Montana. In the space of 20 minutes, we got an oil change, ordered Asian takeout and rented a hotel room for 6 hours in order to watch our favorite sports event. We watched Jordan Speith win the tournament and 5 hours later, we were on our way… to our second hotel of the day, in Sheridan, Wyoming. Passed the Battlefield of Little Bighorn. General Custer was nowhere to be found.

I was sitting beside a young lady on the Ottawa to Vancouver leg of my flight on Friday. She was going out for a job interview. As many of you know, Ottawa , in the dead of winter, is almost as cold as Siberia so I can understand why she wants to relocate to a balmy climate. She said she likes rain. I said that she will absolutely love Vancouver from December to March when it rains ( heavily ), just about every day.

Almost done. On Wednesday, I will be doing one of my “living tributes.” Once or twice a year, I like to shine the spotlight on someone that I think is special and makes a significant contribution to the community. I can’t give you the title or else you will figure it out.

Hope you have a terrific week.

Posted on April 11, 2015 under Storytelling with no comments yet

Enjoying a light dusting of snow

“Right smack dab in the middle of town, I’ve found a paradise that’s trouble proof (up on the roof)”

Up On the Roof – The Drifters

I have an aversion to heights.  No, let me rephrase that.  I have a fear of heights and I am definitely not what one would call a thrill seeker.  So, just what would possess me to risk life and limb by climbing onto the roof of our house?

It was a beautiful spring day in 1986 in Los Angeles, California, when my fear of heights reared its ugly head for the first time.  I was soaking up the rays in Chavez Ravine.  Lest you think that this is some trendy spa on the Pacific Coast, Chavez Ravine is the home stadium for the Los Angeles Dodgers baseball team and I was there with a friend to catch a spring training game.

Coming from harsh winter climes, getting a good seat wasn’t a big priority.  There are cheap seats and there are nosebleed seats.  Our seats were closer to San Diego than they were to L.A.  It was a splendid day for baseball.  A warm breeze blew and cold beer flowed.  Two promising pitchers were in the lineup for the Dodgers: Orel Hershiser and Fernando Valenzuela.  They would later become household names.

Part way through the game (and our second beer!), we spotted empty seats much closer to the diamond and, seeing no security guards, we ambled down to take our perch.  The seats were in the first row of the third balcony.  As we approached our new location, I took one look over the balcony and was struck with inexplicable fear.  I beat a hasty retreat.

That fear of heights remains with me to this day.

For the past 30 years I have avoided heights.  I was a chaperone on a school trip years ago and could not muster the courage to go up in the C.N. Tower.   I would never consider going on a roller coaster and I have to be mildly sedated to accompany a grandchild on the Ferris wheel.  You get the picture.

I don’t mind going up on a stepladder to do small household repairs, but forget about scraping the eaves of the house atop an extension ladder.

Our house is for sale and until the lawyer places a cheque in our hands, the house is still our responsibility.  We have had a fair bit of snow this year, in case you might have missed it while hibernating in a cave.  So much snow that we had some concerns about the volume of the white stuff on our roof.  With an offer to purchase our house on the table, we didn`t want to take any risks of the deal (or our roof!) falling through.

Speaking of caves. My wife is a tax preparer and has been seen as infrequently as Shubenacadie Sam lately.  She is usually the high wire act when it comes to household chores.  So, with heavy rain in the forecast and about four feet of snow and ice drifted into one corner of the roof, I knew that I must act.  I hauled out the step ladder, plunked it into a snowbank and scrambled onto the shingles.

It was a brilliant morning and after a half an hour, the coat and hat came off along with the first few layers of snow.  I had absolutely no fear of falling.  My brother happened along and he pitched in with some much needed snow removal around the basement windows and oil tank.

By the time I finished, I had worked up a sweat and a hearty appetite.  I decided to treat my brother to lunch.  Before climbing down, I asked him to take a photo of the conquering warrior on the roof.  Then a childhood memory flashed before me.  The pile of snow just below the gutters of the house had grown exponentially.  “Why not jump off?” I thought to myself.  There was zero percent chance of harm and it would make me feel like a kid again.

I asked my brother to take a picture of me “in flight”.   He did one better.  He grabbed his cell phone and put it on video mode.

Every so often you see a video on YouTube and you wonder about the sheer ineptness of people who have inherited the “clumsy gene”.  My “fall from grace” took all of three seconds.  With arms raised to the heavens, I did a small bunny hop … and hooked the toe of my boot in the gutter.  Before you could say “arse over kettle” I was hurtling down the snowbank on my belly.

It was a classic face plant.  I would love to report that I landed in soft powder but most of it was the very snow (and ice) that I had just removed from the roof.  Carpet burn – on the rocks.

Our kids are scattered from coast to coast.  We usually don’t hear from all of them on a single day unless it is Christmas.  Well, as soon as I uploaded the video the phone started ringing.  They were convulsed with laughter.  I couldn’t understand a word they said.

Glad I could entertain.  You gave us a few chuckles too.  Too bad there were no mobile phones back in the day.  I’ll just have to write some stories.

Posted on April 8, 2015 under Storytelling with no comments yet

I employ the “hunt and peck” method of typing

 

 

“And I need a job, so I want to be a paperback writer”

Paperback Writer – The Beatles

Despite all the advances in technology, there’ still something very special about curling up with a good book.  You know.  The kind that has actual pages; where you can use a scrap of paper or a parking ticket as a book mark.  It has become difficult for authors to get their books into circulation without going head to head with the behemoths in the industry.  And it has also become next to impossible to operate an old fashioned bookstore, heaped to the rafters with books, books and only books.  Most chain stores are bland and antiseptic and cluttered with riff raff.

Molly was an avid reader and a member of her book club, which has been meeting monthly for fifteen years … and counting.  In the lead up to an upcoming gathering she decided to go to the bookstore to purchase the volume that was to be reviewed.  Because she was coming from out of town, she piggy backed her trip to the book store with several other appointments, including an annual checkup with her doctor.

She entered the mall and went directly to Coals, the sole bookstore.  She had exactly one hour to find the required paperback and catch a bite to eat in the food court.   The appointment with her physician would follow.

The last thing Molly recalled before she heard the door closing and the lock clicking was the young sales clerk walking toward the exit with her eyes focused intently on her phone.  She hadn’t noticed Molly, who was at floor level checking a book on the bottom shelf.  It was lunch time and it became abundantly clear that this employee was taking a break.  And it was also evident that Molly was locked inside.  And she was hungry.  Quite hungry, in fact.

What exactly is one supposed to do when they get locked inside a store?  At first Molly was mildly amused by the turn of events, but then she felt her blood pressure rise, ever so slightly.  She worried that a mall security person might see her and call the cops.  She stood at the window and started to wave her arms at the mall shoppers.  They waved back.  She tried flailing her arms to denote an emergency but that yielded similar results.  She grabbed her purse to call someone on her cell phone before remembering that she had left it on the seat of her car.  She thought about using the bookstore telephone but, recalling a recent episode of CSI, decided not to leave fingerprint evidence.

Forty-five minutes later the young clerk re-entered the store.  Her cell phone was affixed to her ear and she was having an animated discussion with someone.  Molly was so distraught by this time that she left the store without buying any books.  To this day, the clerk doesn’t know what happened and didn’t even see her customer enter or leave the premises.

It was only a short walk down the hall to the doctor’s office.  Mercifully her appointment was on schedule.  By this time, her stomach was in full rumble mode and her heart was palpitating.  Her doctor slapped on the blood pressure cuff and was somewhat startled with the reading.  Before she had a chance to explain why she was in such a state, her physician smiled reassuringly.  He knew that Molly was an avid reader, so he prescribed a trip to the book store to help her relax.

Molly’s heart began to race faster.  Does the mall have an electronics store, she enquired?  Perhaps it is time for an E-reader.  For those times when the bookstore is closed.