Posted on July 19, 2013 under Storytelling with no comments yet

It’s Friday… again. If you would like a preview to tomorrow’s story about golf, please go to the video tab and click on ” A Bag of Dreams”. Even if you are not a golfer, don’t be shy about reading the story. Golf is a metaphor of life. It can be incredibly frustrating and can also bring you great joy. Keeping an even keel in golf and life is important as is having a good perspective on things. I feel incredibly lucky and grateful to have been born in this part of the world.

And speaking of being grateful, those of us who enjoy good heath should be particularly thankful. With good health, anything is possible.

Hope you have a great Friday.

Posted on July 18, 2013 under Thursday Tidbits with no comments yet

Ok. This is long overdue but coming up on Saturday, I will be posting a golf story which seems appropriate with the British Open in full swing. Ten years ago, I was on a golf trip to Ireland with seven lawyers. Don’t go there. I can already anticipate the jokes. After a round of golf, we stopped into a quaint Irish pub to catch a few holes of the final round of the Open. Or did we stop in for a few rounds to catch a hole? It turned into a marathon session. Someday I will write a story about this. What I most remember is that these fine gentleman would make a wager on anything. ” Will Ernie scratch his left ear in the next 15 seconds”? You get the picture. As I said, it was a long session!

Call me old fashioned but I love newspapers. I read the Globe and Mail on Saturday, the Herald daily and of course, The Casket on a weekly basis. Lately I have also been reading the Highland Heart Weekly, which is an excellent publication. I noticed a piece in the paper the other day about one of the national conglomerates shutting down several community newspapers. This leaves me profoundly saddened. Community newspapers are much more than news. They are a living, breathing history and deserve our support. I think it would be neat to give our grandchildren a unique gift for their birthday or Christmas: a subscription to The Casket. Otherwise they may never know what an actual paper looks and feels like. And, yes, I know that you can get these publications on line but it’s just not the same.

There, I’ve said my piece on that subject.

I’m still trying to get my Facebook friends to move over from my personal page to my Week45 page. Nudge them along if you get the chance or better still, get them to go to my website at www.week45.com and hit the follow button. They will get automatic updates by e-mail and won’t have to wade through the clutter of Facebook.

My editors are hard at it and my book of short humour stories is still on schedule for mid to late September. Some have suggested that it would make excellent bathroom material… reading material would be my preference! Others think it would be a good fit in doctors’ offices around the country. You could laugh while you wait.

Have a great day. I return all e-mails and Facebook comments so if you have something to say, don’t be shy.

“A Bag of Dreams”, coming Saturday.

 

Posted on July 16, 2013 under Storytelling with one comment

The gospel story was about the Good Samaritan and I listened intently to the sermon that followed.  The priest started by making a disparaging comment about lawyers and, sitting not ten feet away, was my brother, a recently retired lawyer.  We exchanged knowing glances and a grin.  A pending defamation suit was diffused after Mass following a meeting of the aggrieved party and the pastor.

I attend church at my mother’s apartment building every Saturday at 5 PM and I have been conscripted to do the music.  My brother was in town for his annual pilgrimage to the “Little Vatican” and came to Mass on this particular day.  As is often the case in the summertime, other relatives of the buildings’ residents were also in attendance.  The air was warm but so was the vibe.

I took my leave immediately after the service to attend to family visiting our house.  My brother and my mother had been invited to supper with another sibling who lives not far away.  This was a good thing as my brother was on a very tight timetable with tickets in his pocket for a concert at 7 PM.

They approached his rental car, a bright, shiny 2013 Dodge Avenger, black in color.  The remote entry key was engaged and he could hear the familiar sound of the locks opening.  He put the key into the ignition but, surprisingly, nothing happened.  The key would not move.  My brother had tinkered with cars in his youth so he wasn’t perplexed with this turn of events.  Initially.  He tried to twist the steering wheel and fiddled with the gear shift to no avail.  He stepped on the brake.  He searched in vain for a dashboard starter.  Thinking back to Mass, he contemplated a few additional prayers.

It was a particularly warm evening and from doing battle with the car on the heels of a warm church service, sweat appeared on my brother’s brow.

 And, the clock was ticking.

Mild inconvenience slowly seeped into frustration as he dug furiously in the cubby hole to find the user’s manual.  He ripped the unopened plastic and started looking for instructions: “How to Start Your Car”. When this failed to uncover any hidden secrets he thought he might have to call the rental company.  He fished in the console for his Blackberry and came up empty.  Tired, hot, hungry and aggravated, he was running out of viable options when along came the Good Samaritan.

The owner of the building strolled up to him.  “Donnie.  What are you doing in my brother’s car”?  The owner’s brother had come to town in a rented vehicle to spend some time with his mother.  Momentarily flummoxed, my brother searched for an appropriate response when, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a 2013 Dodge Avenger, black in color, parked immediately beside the car he believed to be his.  Identical, right down to the interior.

After a hasty supper he made his way to attend the aforementioned concert.  It was about the trials and tribulations of our Scottish ancestors as they made their way on tall ships to the new world in 1801.

He left the concert and drove to his next engagement.  Only this time he was pedalling his bike.  It doesn’t require a key to get it started.