Posted on September 12, 2019 under Thursday Tidbits with 2 comments

Country Len

 

I’m pretty sure that I’ve already done a story on this subject but bear with me as I launch into yet another nostalgic trip through time.

Music has been as important in my life as breathing. I don’t think there has been a single day that I haven’t listened to music, sang a song or had an old tune rattling through my aging brain. I was brought up in a musical home and long before television (I’m dating myself), singing was our pastime. We would gather around the piano on a Friday or Saturday night where we learned how to sing four part harmony to all the old war era tunes, and church music. The appearance of Elvis and The Beatles altered our musical tastes significantly.

I was never much of a country and western music fan. My soundtrack was more soft rock and folk music. The Eagles remain one of my favourite groups of all time mainly because of their incredible harmonies. Check out “Lyin Eyes” if you don’t believe me. Fleetwood Mac’s “Rumours” still ranks high on my list of all -time great albums and I wore the grooves off Neil Young’s “Harvest “album back in the early 70s.

With only one radio station available back in the 50s, we were exposed to country music as our local station aired a daily show featuring the legends of C&W.

Only recently have I had a conversion of sorts and now country music seems to be growing on me. The music is uncomplicated. You don’t need a thesaurus to decipher the lyrics. The themes are real and often poignant. I mean, let’s face it, everyone loves a hurtin song!

For the past year, I have been singing at a local nursing home. I felt comfortable taking on the engagement because of my aforementioned knowledge of some really old songs but it became abundantly clear that if I was going to maintain the interest of the seniors, I would have to learn some country music – which I did. I now possess a full binder of old classics.

A few evenings ago, I invited friends over for dinner. Like country music, the meal was uncomplicated. It was typical meat and potatoes fare that would have appeared on any table 50 years ago. The dessert was leftover butterscotch cream pie, a survivor of last weekend’s hurricane! My guests were hard core country music fans so after dinner, we sat and listened to a compilation of some of the greatest country hits ever.

Patsy Kline – Crazy; Don Williams – You’re My Best Friend; Jim Reeves – He’ll Have to Go; Dolly Parton – Coat of Many Colors; George Jones- The Race is On; Hank Williams – Your Cheatin Heart; Charley Pride –Kiss an Angel; Marty Robbins – El Paso; Johnny Cash – Ring of Fire; Tammy Wynette – Stand by Your Man; Randy Travis – Forever and Ever; Merle Haggard – Mamma Tried.

A few years ago during my time in India, I was approached by two Indian men who saw me playing my guitar. They asked me to play something that they might know. As odd as it might appear, I sang Jingle Bells. It was 40 degrees at the time! When I asked them if they knew any English songs, I was shocked when they asked me if I knew anything by Jim Reeves. I did a quick Google search for words and gave them my rendition of “In the Misty Moonlight”.

This past May during my walk across Spain, I stopped in the village of Rabanal del Camino to check my aching feet and have some sustenance. A familiar voice was blasting from an outdoor speaker; it was none other than Johnny Cash singing I Walk the Line. How appropriate! On my way to get a drink, I stopped and sang along with Johnny. Several other pilgrims on the patio joined in. I hung out there for the better part of an hour, listening to several more of his tunes.

The influence of music is quite amazing, especially country music. It doesn’t seem to matter which country you’re in; you’ll frequently hear the old Country and Western Classics, sometimes in the most unexpected places.

One of my guests told a funny story. She lives in the country and has a very large lawn to mow requiring a ride on mower. Recently while mowing, her neighbor came rushing through a clearing in the trees looking quite alarmed. He feared that my friend was being attacked by wolves or coyotes. Fear not. My friend had her earphones on listening to her favourite country songs. She was singing at the top of her lungs. Hurtin and cheatin songs evoke strong emotions…. and sounds!

Have a great weekend.

Posted on September 9, 2019 under Monday Morning Musings with no comments yet

The aftermath of Dorian

 

Mea Culpa.

I want to start off with an apology, something for which Canadians are famous. Mostly we apologize for trivial things but every once in a while, a full blown, heartfelt apology is warranted. I mentioned in this column last week that I was a flawed human being. It didn’t take me any time to prove this once again as recently as yesterday.

Hurricane Dorian caused massive destruction and claimed countless lives, especially in the Bahamas. Occasionally our Maritime humour gets in the way of common sense and good judgment. I cannot take credit for this but someone re-arranged the letters of Dorian and came up with donair and referred to the storm as Hurricane Donair. I thought this was funny and did a post on Facebook showing the picture of a donair. It didn’t take long for a few people to call me out on my insensitivity mentioning the devastation and loss of life. There is nothing trivial about a hurricane. I immediately took the post down and apologized to the people I offended.

Two of my siblings have cottages. Yesterday, my brother and I decided to spend the night down by the ocean. We packed up some supplies and went down in advance of the storm to batten down the hatches. When we arrived late afternoon, the hurricane was starting to make its presence felt. The surf was up, trees were down and the power was off.

Miraculously, the power came on just at the start of the U.S. Open women’s final. We munched on storm snacks and watched Bianca Andreescu battle legendary tennis figure, Serena Williams. We were able to watch for about an hour and were not surprised when the power went out again, this time for good.

My brother was able to get the game on radio. Have you ever listened to a tennis game on radio? Neither have I. It is not quite as gripping as Danny Gallivan or Foster Hewitt calling a hockey game on a Sunday night back in the 60s. Correction. It was very gripping and intense. Especially in candlelight. One of the beauties of radio is that you are forced to use your imagination which is not such a bad thing from time to time. The monotony of the sound of a tennis ball bouncing from one side of the court to the other was interrupted by frequent roars. With a pro-American crowd, you always knew when Serena won a point.

Bianca prevailed and in true Canadian fashion, apologised for winning! “I know you guys wanted Serena to win, so I’m sorry.”

I’m in the final throes of having my fifth book published. There was a glitch with the cover forcing me and my team to go back to the drawing board. I hope to have a new prototype in my hands by the end of the week and if all goes well, I should have hard copies available later in the month or on line through Amazon. The book is called: “Eat, Sleep and Walk: Stories From the Camino”.

One of the more astonishing things that happened during the hurricane was receiving an e-transfer for Simone. I had my cell phone charged up and could still communicate with the outside world. This latest donation brings the total to over $7,600. I am extremely grateful to all of you and I know Simone and her family are humbled by your generosity.

Have a great week.

 

 

Posted on September 5, 2019 under Thursday Tidbits with 4 comments

Me and Simone

 

 

So, this happened.

I walked the Cabot Trail.

Regular readers of this column know that I usually keep things pretty light. No one has ever accused me of being philosophical but please bear with me as I try and explain what I learned about a solo walk of 300 kilometres.

When you do a long walk, there is lots of time for reflection and introspection. I have known this for a long time and didn’t have to walk the Cabot Trial to realize it but I am a complicated and somewhat flawed human being. We all try and do our best but over a lifetime we’ve all screwed up royally. We all have regrets of some sort. That’s what makes us human. The best that most of us can do is to hopefully leave this world marginally better than when we arrived.

Many, many times over the last 10 days, the phrase “milk of human kindness” entered my head. You English scholars will immediately recognize this as a line from Shakespeare’s Macbeth. Loosely translated it means kindness and compassion. I am so impressed but when the chips are down, everyone puts their shoulder to the wheel and helps out.

My walk to honour my friend, Simone, clearly demonstrated the best in people. People donated money. Along the route, I was shown extraordinary kindness by complete strangers who gave me a roof over my head and meals. The people who stopped me on the side of the road to wish me well and all the heartfelt comments on social media filled my heart. In a world that seems so dark and sinister, you have given me hope that good will trump evil.

The other lesson that I continue to learn is to never take anything for granted. We never know what is lurking around the corner. I know that it is a trite expression but trying to live every day to the fullest should be something for which we should all strive.

I met so many extraordinary people along the route. Singling anyone out is fraught with danger but I do want to give a shout out to James Andrews in Margaree Forks. I arrived at the bar of the Margaree Forks Fire Department on the first day of my travels. I had walked 40km and didn’t have a place to stay. He spent an hour calling people and he finally found me refuge. Not only that but he arranged free lodging for me the following night in Cheticamp. These two gestures really set the tone for the rest of the walk.

For the record:

Money raised to date – $5,933.50

Kilometres walked – 300 (about 400,000 steps excluding trips to the woods to pee!)

Casualties – 3 blisters and two toe nails. When I ran marathons, my toes would frequently blacken. Marathon runners have a saying – “Toe nails are for sissies”!

Thanks for joining me on this adventure. I plan to write book #6 about my Cabot Trail walk.

But most of all, I hope and pray that Simone recovers from her devastating stroke. She is such a nice person and for this to happen to her is such a tragedy. Simone’s path to recovery will be a marathon. She will likely require expensive aids like a motorized wheelchair and computer aids, rehabilitation services and renovations to her home. I’ll continue accepting donations until tomorrow, Friday, September 6^th. You can send me an e-transfer at lenpdmacdonald@gmail.com

Have a great weekend and thanks again for your support.

P.S. Several of you suggested that I was as tough as a boiled owl. Would someone please explain to me how anyone would know this? Has someone actually boiled an owl and tried to eat it?!!!!