Posted on June 29, 2015 under Monday Morning Musings with one comment

Future World Cup players?

 

 

Our Canadian women’s soccer team gave it a valiant effort but fell short on the weekend at the World Cup. Women’s soccer, in particular, has grown by leaps and bounds in Canada.  A live crowd of close to 55,000 people watched the game and millions more were glued to their televisions. While Canada is a hockey mad country, soccer appears to be taking over in terms of participation. The picture above will attest to that.

From World Cup to world problems. The world appears to have gone mad. You know me well. My mission is to entertain and not get too political or weigh in on the big problems besetting the world but man, what a mess. We can’t seem to get through a day without news of people destroying each other. A cynic might say ( rightfully ), that this has been going on forever and that the media just does this to attract viewers but the acts seem more random and more violent.

I am continuing to gather information on Frank McGibbon in the lead up to the story that I will publish during Highland Games week. Most of us knew Frank as a coach and the first true “recreation director” for the Town of Antigonish. Frank often appeared gruff but as many have said, his bark was worse than his bite. What most of us never knew was Frank as a family man. He lived with his brother’s family for many years. When I asked his niece, Patty what she thought about when remembering Frank she was quick to acknowledge his “profound kindness” to the McGibbon children. As I continue to do my homework, I am realizing that Frank was truly an amazing person. My challenge is going to try to distill all of the information I have gathered into a worthy story. Someone should write a book about him.

There are obviously some guitar players out there. “Striking a Chord” seemed to, well, strike a chord with several of you who have also played the guitar for a long time. The great thing about a guitar is its portability. I have a small Martin travel guitar that I take when I’m flying.

Last week, I had the pleasure of meeting with three wonderful women who spent their lives raising large families and doing service to their community. We had tea and warm blueberry muffins as I gathered up some history on the Opportunity Shop. I know a little bit about this business , tucked into a corner just off the Main but I had no idea how the work it does, benefits so many people. I plan to do a story about the “Op Shop” in the coming weeks.

We launched the first Art Fair of our second season last Friday. The good news is that it didn’t rain. The bad news is that it nearly snowed. Only joking… sort of. Despite the chilly temperatures, we still managed to draw a crowd of about 500 people. I, for one, was very happy to see all the vendors of ethnic food. They were doing a brisk business dishing out delicious ( and in some cases, hot and spicy! ) food. We had 35 artists and an expanded Children’s corner. The next show is Friday, July 10^th. at Chisholm Park. This is Highland Games week and we should have a large crowd and a great show.

Have a great week.

P.S. Remind me to never drive in Montreal ever again. Drove up on the weekend to pick up our granddaughter. The road construction is just ridiculous. It is always a nightmare and all the helpful signage is in French.

Posted on June 27, 2015 under Storytelling with 4 comments

” Dis Chord”

( Peter MacDonald photo )

 

 

“Played it ‘til my fingers bled…”

Summer of ‘69 – Bryan Adams

We recently sold our house and moved into a two bedroom apartment.  This required some serious purging.   We had accumulated “stuff” during 33 years of marriage, along with possessions acquired before tying the knot.   What does one keep and what does one recycle to family, friends and thrift shops?

Each of us tends to hold on to things near and dear, most of it rooted in sentimentality.  But eventually everything must find its final resting plate.  I had no trouble giving up the cast that I wore on my left knee back in 1980.  Ditto for some very old t-shirts and other memorabilia.  My wife decided to donate our iron to a worthy cause.  It was in “like new” condition.  We ended up keeping essentially what we needed and casting off just about every other worldly possession.

Except my guitar.  Guitars, actually.

Music has been a central focus of my life.   I grew up in a home full of music.  I sang in a band as a teenager, but didn’t pick up a guitar till I was in my 20’s.  And a very old guitar it was … and cheap.  I was teaching in Northern Alberta at the time and one of my buddies gave me one of his.  You had to apply a great deal of force to depress the strings.  You know what I mean.  And the strings seemed more like razor blades.

I was a Lightfoot fan at the time (still am, though Gord’s voice sometimes sounds like an aging grackle these days).  I purchased an anthology of his greatest hits complete with chords.  And so my guitar journey began in earnest.  And like Bryan Adams and thousands of other aspiring players, I practiced until my fingers blistered and bled.  I aspired to greatness and settled for mediocrity.

I had the audacity to teach guitar to a group of grade six students a mere months after I had learned exactly four chords: G, C, D and E minor.  Talk about the blind leading the blind.  I agreed to teach them a few basics during lunch hour.  This was in January of 1979 and, if you go back and check the forecast, the temperature in Whitelaw, Alberta hovered between -40 and -50 for the entire month.  Most of the students had guitars that were purchased at K-Mart.  Keeping them in tune was nearly impossible.  The students would arrive at school in the morning with the guitars in green garbage bags.  The first 30 minutes of the lesson was spent de-icing and tuning these gems.

I told them about the three P s of learning how to play the guitar: practice, patience and pain.

Kenny Rogers was big at the time and the first song they learned was “The Gambler”.   Whenever I hear this song I get the flashback.  A couple of years ago, Betty and I attended a reunion in Fairview, Alberta.  One of my protégées, Trevor, a student from that very class 35 years ago, showed up … guitar in hand. We jammed and he sang a few tunes that he had written.

When I decided to move back East, I took my accumulated pension contributions of $979 and went directly to the Halifax Folklore Center and purchased a 1972 D-18 Martin.  I was not worthy of such a fine instrument but I was taking the long view.  Maybe someday I would actually be able to make it sound like it was being played by a real musician.  That day eventually came but it wasn’t me who made the Martin sing; it was our son, Peter.  I did the honorable thing and swapped guitars with him.

One day I received a call from one distraught young man.  After a gig the previous night, some young thugs had broken into the band vehicle and taken all of their equipment. The police were able to recover many of the stolen articles but the Martin was found smashed to pieces.  A senseless crime for sure.  Peter salvaged what remained of his precious instrument and someday the guitar will be rebuilt.

Over the years, I have played in every imaginable place and have “trunks of memories still to come” (Long May You Run – Neil Young).  I have played at some epic singsongs, including the night Melvin was buried, when I played for 4 hours without a break while the floor at 39 heaved.  Strength from above sustained me that day.

One of my fondest memories was the afternoon that my dear and late friend, Siobhan and I did a stint as street musicians in Vancouver.  She played the flute and I played guitar.  As any true Maritimer would (!), we played until we made enough to buy a pitcher of draft at a nearby pub.

After all these years, I still haven’t mastered bar chords.  I don’t know if it’s my small hands or an equally small brain but I continue to fumble when I need a b minor.  I have, however, mastered playing chords in a bar.  These are bar chords of a much different variety.

I don’t play much these days but a guitar is still a great way to bring a diverse group of people together … even when you only know 4 chords.

“I look at the world and I notice it’s turning While my guitar gently weeps. With every mistake we must surely be learning Still my guitar gently weeps.”

While My Guitar Gently Weeps – George Harrison

Posted on June 25, 2015 under Thursday Tidbits with no comments yet

Gruhn Guitars – Nashville

( Peter MacDonald photo )

 

 

I was staring at my computer screen at 6:00 a.m. yesterday wondering what I was going to write about. As mentioned the other day, I have some great stories in the works about some very special people and places. I am very excited with the possibility of spending some time with one of the elders from the Wacobah First Nation.

And I am continuing to collect stories about the late Frank McGibbon who influenced the lives of literally thousands of young people. Someone reminded my of one of Frank’s classic refrains: “We gotta get these young fellas into sports before it’s too late. First it’s the smoking and then it’s the drinking, then it’s the other thing.” Frank never elaborated on “the other thing!”  I think he might have been talking about chasing girls. What do you think?!

Do you remember the equipment shack down at Columbus Field? Do you remember the smell when Frank would unlock the doors? It wasn’t an unpleasant smell for those of you wondering.  The collection of old leather catcher’s mitts and other assorted sports paraphernalia had a very distinct aroma.

If you have any “Frank” stories , please drop me a note, private message me or invite me for coffee.

Anyway, as I scratched my head trying to come up something fresh, I spotted my two guitars over in the corner of the living room. And just like that, I was off and running. I’m not a particularly good guitar player but know enough chords, and the lyrics to hundreds ( thousands? ) of songs, to keep myself amused. I have played in groups and done solo gigs. I have played in churches at weddings and funerals. I have played in Legions, pubs and hotel lobbies ( one infamous evening at a hotel in Kilarney, Ireland ). I have played at a gazillion singsongs and have entertained the elderly in nursing homes. I expect that just about every other guitar player has done exactly the same things. Oh yes. I have played around a campfire and have sat on the beach by a roaring bonfire singing “Barrett’s Privateers.”

I even took a stab as a street musician one day in Vancouver when my dear friend, the late Siobhan  M. and I parked our butts on a street corner. I played guitar and she played flute. We managed to raise enough money to buy one large pitcher of beer at a nearby pub.

I don’t play much these days but there are memories to last a lifetime about my long romance with the guitar. Coming up Saturday, look for “Striking a Chord.”

The first Antigonish Art Fair of 2015 will be held at Chisholm Park tomorrow evening starting at 5:30. We have an action packed evening of art, music, culture and ethnic food. The ever popular “Children’s Corner” has been expanded this year to include face painting, balloon animals, painting culturally symbolic masks, dia de las muertos colouring pages, flags of the nations beauty parlor and many more fun activities. It is a great family oriented evening so please grab a folding chair and possibly a sweater ( it may cool down during the evening ) and come and join us.

Hope to see you at the Art Fair tomorrow.

Have a great weekend.

P.S. If you’re in Inverness , Charlos Cove ( Seawinds ) or Halifax in the next few days, check out this awesome trio:  “Belle Paine”  www.bellepainemusic.com . Saw them at Dreamcatchers last night. Terrific music and great food.