Posted on June 13, 2015 under Storytelling with one comment

Banding together

 

 

If you`re a Maritimer, there is nothing that is more anticipated than the first feed of lobster as the season opens.

The date and time was set for the feast … a family affair.  The time was a key factor as this family was schooled on several principles; none more important than punctuality.  They were to convene promptly at 6:00 P.M.

Someone is always tasked with the job of procuring the lobsters.  A family member who had just arrived from the West Coast went to one of the local lobster vendors, only to find that it was now a distribution centre and no longer a retail outlet.  Because there was no time to go to one of the many area wharves, he decided to check one of the large grocery chains.  He had been told that the quality of product was every bit as good as if you cooked them yourself down on the beach.  And only a little bit pricier.

At 3 P.M. he arrived at the grocery store and placed the order at the fish counter: 20 market lobsters, hot and juicy.  The staffer assured him that they would be ready at 5:45 sharp.  He was soon to find out that business is conducted a little differently in small town Canada than in a major city.

At precisely 5:40 he was in front of the fish counter.  “I’m here to pick up the 20 lobsters that I ordered earlier this afternoon.” He announced.   “I’m sorry.  We only have the first ten cooked.  There was a staff change at 5:30 and somehow things got a bit mixed up” was the response.   Our trusty purchaser heaved a small sigh at the ineptitude and went out to the parking lot to bide his time.

By 6 PM he was once again in the now familiar spot.  Three plastic bags full of warm crustaceans were handed over and, all of a sudden, the fifteen minute delay didn’t seem all that bad.

Knowing that he would be transporting more than 30 pounds to the cashier, he had secured a shopping cart.  He had scarcely reached the fruit and vegetable section when he noticed that a trail of water was seeping from the bags onto the floor.  He did a quick U-turn and asked the folks tending to the lobsters to double bag them for safe delivery.

Meanwhile, back at the homestead, folks were looking at their watches as they fully expected the lobsters to have arrived promptly at 6:10.  When the clock turned to 6:11, all in the room knew that there was a problem.

He arrived at the lineup for the cashier.  Blessedly there was only one person in front of him.  The bad news was that, despite double bagging, water continued to drain from the bags onto the floor.  It was more than a trickle and suddenly there was a small puddle in the aisle, creating a hazard for any unsuspecting customer coming behind.  Thinking quickly, a trait he had honed as a corporate lawyer, he grabbed an adjacent candy bar rack and used it to block further access to the cashier’s counter.

The one person lineup quickly dispersed and it was then just our buyer, the lobsters and a slightly disinterested clerk.  “There’s a problem with these bags and there’s quite a bit of water on the floor.” His remark was met with indifference as he placed the three bags of lobsters on the counter.  “I think you should call somebody to clean up the water on the floor because someone could slip and fall.”  She picked up the phone and paged a colleague.  He was on break.

By now the water was starting to run over the counter toward the open till.  Alarmed, and growing more frustrated by the minute, he said, “Ma’am, I think you really need to get someone here immediately to deal with this.  Without looking up, she enquired, “Do you collect Air Miles?”   He was tempted to hand her a lobster to scan.

His ordeal finally over, he strode quickly to the vehicle that he had borrowed from his brother and dropped the three bags into the trunk.

It was close to 6:20, exactly 35 minutes later than planned, when he arrived at the family home.  He opened the trunk and, much to his chagrin, discovered that despite the double bagging (and a string of profanities); lobster juice covered the trunk floor.  It was sunny and 20 degrees at the time.  Only a Maritimer can describe the smell of fetid lobster juice.

He trudged up the steps and was met at the door with a healthy dose of ribbing for his tardiness.

He dropped the three bags of lobsters on the veranda, quickly checked his travel itinerary home, and started to hum a few bars of “Farewell to Nova Scotia”.

Posted on June 10, 2015 under Storytelling with no comments yet

Give us this day our daily bread

 

 

“Goin’ to the chapel and we’re gonna get married …”

Chapel of Love – Phil Spector

June has arrived and hearts are aflutter; it is wedding season in Nova Scotia.

A beautiful love story has unfolded in Antigonish as a middle aged couple prepare for their nuptials.  Marrying later in life is not all that uncommon as we see couples in their 70s and 80s tying the knot with increasing frequency.  A story in our provincial paper some months ago about a couple “walking hand in hand through life” evoked an incredible response.  They are a fixture in our community and can be seen strolling “The Main” just about every day of the year.  It is obvious to even the most casual observer that they are very much in love.

When first interviewed, they mentioned that they hoped to be married in a couple of years once they were able to save up enough money.  This caught the eye of a few people and a tsunami of generosity sprung forth.  Soon Marilyn and Austin will walk down the aisle of St. Ninian’s Cathedral with the support and love of an entire community.

I am far from an expert on love but, after thirty three years of wedded bliss (?!), I do have some insights about the delicate balancing act that we call marriage.

Over a long period of time, you learn to read signals and body language.  The rolling of eyes is a dead giveaway that something is not quite 100%.  Besides the non-verbal cues, there are many practical things that can carry a marriage a long way.

Some of these things are blatantly obvious.  Don’t attempt to do drywall together.  Never ask your partner to give you directions while driving through Los Angeles.  Always put the toilet seat down.  Make absolutely certain that there is a fresh cup of coffee waiting first thing in the morning.  These are no-brainers.

But I am here to tell you, in no uncertain terms, that the key to a successful marriage is a four slice toaster.

We all know what mornings look like.  Most of us stagger around just trying to acknowledge the dawning of a new day.  Hair is tousled and breath is probably not of the “minty fresh” variety.  One or more body parts hurt and conversations are typically guttural and monosyllabic.  You get the picture.  Most times, you just try and give each other a wide berth until the caffeine kicks in.

We had a two slice toaster when we were first married.  And, if my memory serves me correctly, that lasted all of one week.  Who gets to use the toaster first as you stumble around the kitchen wiping the sleep from your eyes?  Chivalry has its place but, when it comes to the toaster, I’m an “equal opportunity” kind of guy.  We quickly discovered that a four slicer was imperative and over the years, we have had some of our more meaningful discussions while waiting for the toast to pop.

I know which side my bread is buttered on and I plan to keep it that way.

Posted on June 8, 2015 under Monday Morning Musings with one comment

A Father’s Day gift?

 

 

Father’s Day is fast approaching. We were at Canadian Tire the other day when I spotted this lovely dual bevel sliding compound mitre saw. It was on sale and for just the slightest moment , I wondered what it would be like to own one of these big boys. I was quickly snapped back to reality when I realized that this would be like handing dynamite to a child as I can scarcely manage a hand saw. We gave away our vast array of hand saws ( one ) to the folks who bought our house. They will soon discover that it needs to be sharpened or thrown in the nearest garbage receptacle.

We had our first feed of lobsters on the weekend. Several of my siblings were in town so we gathered at the old homestead at 39. There was a time ( and I’m probably not alone on this one ) when we had several lobster boils each season and eating only one lobster would be a sacrilege. A half a dozen markets was the norm washed down with a handful of Schooner or Alpine beer… and maybe a drink of dark rum for dessert. Today, it is totally different. Most people my age can only manage a single crustacean and many of us no longer imbibe.

So, what happens when the person responsible for procuring the lobsters, goes to one of the national chain grocery stores and the simple act of buying 20 lobsters , turns into a debacle. I think you’re going to like this story unless you live on the Great Plains of the U.S. and have no idea what I’m talking about. Stay tuned for my latest offering “ Lobster Tales.” Coming soon.

I have one week of retirement under my belt and it was a lot crazier than I thought possible. The highlight of the week was a road trip to Mabou to meet Sally “Central.” She is an amazing woman and has many stories to tell. And well she should with her 100^th. birthday not all that far away. Most of us are interested in longevity and how some people manage a long, healthy life. You will be surprised when you find out her answer to the question I posed on this subject. Of course, we talked about religion, sports and politics. This is a story you won’t want to miss and it is simply titled  Sally “Central.”

Of course, to get to Mabou, we had to drive down Route 19 and honestly, it never looked better. It was a glorious, sunny day. The landscape was green and lush and the ocean ( Strait ) off to our left ( on the way down ) was simply breathtaking. No wonder people come from all over the world to visit Cape Breton.

On the other side of the Island is Johnstown just up the road from Big Pond. I have been invited to go there in July to do an event at their community hall. I am also going to have the opportunity to meet and interview Mike who, by all accounts, is quite the character. I am quite certain that I could spend the remainder of my life quite content driving through Cape Breton meeting people like Mike Campbell, Sally “Central” and Mike. Like many, I am fearful that the story telling tradition will die with this generation of people.

Coming up on Wednesday is “Len’s guide to a happy marriage.” It’s called “You’re Toast” and will also appear in The Casket.

Betty and I are taking a break later this week traveling to Newfoundland to visit Gros Morne National Park. This is something we’ve talked about for a very long time.

Have a great week.

P.S. An interesting bumper sticker: “Honk if you love Jesus. Text if you’d like to meet him.”