Monday Morning Musings

Posted on October 7, 2013 under Monday Morning Musings with 2 comments

( Dave Brosha Photography )

Gosh. It’s hard for even a world class photographer like my nephew , Dave to make me look good. Of course he shoots landscapes and he hasn’t seen one quite like this in the north.

We’ll call this “Mistaken Identities 2 .” On the weekend I was attending Homecoming events at St.F.X. I went to the class dinner for the Class of ’73. I entered a room and it was filled with a bunch of old farts, until I realized that they were my classmates. Holy crap. They’ve gotten old while I have somehow managed to remain so young looking. Yes, we have all changed and if you need any evidence, scroll to the bottom. It is quite sobering to look around the room and realize that you are one of those old geezers that you used to look at when you had your 10th. reunion. We had a great time and Betty and I hosted them at our house for an evening of camaraderie and a few tunes. But not before a mixup.

Hands. How many people remember the movie “Cool Hand Luke?” Thought so. There is a famous line in the movie where the warden is speaking to the prisoner ( Paul Newman). Best line in the movie, hands down: “What we got here, is a failure to communicate.” The class picture was, how can I say this politely, a shit show. Poor Bernice, the photographer, was patiently (?) trying to get 40 or so reasonably lubricated senior citizens to organize themselves for the photo. It was just chaos, pure and simple.

Knowing we had company coming to the house shortly, my wife decided that her time could be better used at home getting last minute things ready. Gee, why wouldn’t she rather hang around with a bunch of besotted people she didn’t even know? So off, she went leaving me carless… just one letter shy of careless. When the photo session ended, I hightailed it on foot, a pleasant walk of 2.5 kilometers. The streets were littered with students who had been drinking since early in the morning. I gave them a wide berth as I worried about a swarming. When I got home, I was surprised to see that the car wasn’t in the driveway. My guess was that Betty was out getting some last minute items.

That is, until I entered the kitchen to find her there. She had taken a cab. I will spare you the discussion that ensued. Use your imaginations.

I walked down to the cathedral Sunday morning to pick up the car, only to discover that mass was on and that my car was completely boxed in by Christians. Penance for not listening closely to my wife the previous evening.

On a slightly more serious note, I attended the Georgetown Conference this past week on beautiful P.E.I. It was a gathering of people from every corner of Atlantic Canada who came on their own dime to address the challenges we face in our region. The conference theme was “Redefining Rural.” Many small towns and villages are in serious trouble with the decline of our once vibrant primary industries coupled with the out migration to the West of our citizens, young and old. We heard from many speakers about what they were doing in their communities to re-invent their economies. I have a piece coming out in this week’s Casket and would respectfully ask that you take a look at it.

I have a running story coming at you tomorrow. It is a true story…sort of. Well, it’s partially true except for the parts that I made up. All you runners will get a kick out of this. At one point in my running career, placing well in my age group was always a badge of honor until I realized that absolutely nobody, not even your wife or your dog, gives a shit about where you placed. This story is called “Pegged For Success.”

So, why would my fellow classmates not be able to recognize me after 40 years?