Posted on April 10, 2014 under Thursday Tidbits with no comments yet

A Possible Madness

 

 

I have some hard core followers out there. You know who you are. You read just about everything I write and often fire off a comment. I wish I could find another 1000 just like you. Surely there are other people with your refined tastes!

Once in a blue moon I put a story out there that resonates with a wider audience. Such was the case with Tuesday’s story called “Taken For a Ride.” The only other story that got a bigger response was “Lou’s Last Laugh” ( the one with the skunk in the grave ). If you are new to Week45, just go to the search bar on the top right hand corner of my home page and search for the story.  I had quite a few comments. In case you were wondering how the story actually ended, the couple immediately turned around and drove back to the airport. They filled the tank and dropped off the car where they found it. I think we all imagined them getting pulled over by the Mounties after a report of a stolen vehicle. Only in Nova Scotia!

I will once again shamelessly promote Frank Macdonald’s two excellent novels: “A Forest For Calum” and “ A Possible Madness.” Frank is looking forward to coming for the fundraiser and you will appreciate the show even more if you are familiar with his style.

Attention , all Cape Bretoners.  I decided it was high time that I confess , in public, my lineage, including my Cape Breton roots. My father was born in St.Peter’s and his people originally came from the neighboring community of Soldier’s Cove. My brother, Don did a family history and at one point in time , there were 18 John MacDonald’s living in Soldier’s Cove. Probably nice guys but not a very imaginative bunch when it came to doling out names.  I have a story coming up called “ My Cape Breton Passport” where I try to prove conclusively that I have a right to claim citizenship,  if Cape Breton tries to pull the sovereignty card ( like Quebec ).  And, no, I will not comment on the Quebec election. The people spoke. Enough said!

Saturday’s story will be the one I wrote about an outrageous phone bill a group of us incurred back in 1976 while living and teaching in Northern Alberta. Do you know what a $1200 phone bill is in today’s dollars using a 3% annual inflation rate?  If you don’t want to waste your time on Google, I will tell all on Saturday.

I’m trying to come up with an Easter story. There is one I would like to write but I still fear excommunication when I think of a particular Good Friday back in 1978 when a group of my colleagues ( teachers ) decided to have a party on Good Friday afternoon. Sacrilegious?  Probably. Grounds for dismissal? Likely. Why the big deal? The party was in a house that abutted the Catholic Church. It was the first truly spectacular spring day and the boys cut loose. The party started at noon and hit its zenith right around the time of the crucifixion. There were very large speakers out on the lawn. Hendrix blasting.  Yeah. You’re right. It was ugly. Ouch. I think I’ll stick to something safe like a story about an Easter egg hunt.

Bring on The Masters golf tournament.

Have a great weekend.

 

 

Posted on April 8, 2014 under Storytelling with 3 comments

 

 

The call came from the east coast, to their home in Calgary,that mother was in failing health.  She and her husband hastily arranged a flight to Halifax that would have them arrive late into the night.  Coming from a large family, there was no shortage of vehicles and the plan was set in place.  Upon arrival at Stanfield airport, they were to proceed to aisle E of the parkade and pick up her sister Cathy’s Buick.  The keys would be under the gas cap, a long held tradition depicting the family’s rural roots.

With the three hour time difference factored in, they had been on the go for some 18 hours by the time they pulled their luggage off the carousel.  They made their way to the parking lot, spotted the Buick and within minutes were on their way.  They saw a parking pass hanging from the mirror and didn’t even have to stop at ticket booth on the way out.   As they approached, the gate automatically lifted.  They eased their way onto the 102 heading east to the family home in Pictou County.

They were quite impressed with the smooth ride of the LeSabre.

Joe worked on the cleaning staff at the airport and was affectionately referred to as “Joe the Janitor”. Joe, not surprisingly, was a neat freak.  It came with the territory.  He was especially attentive to his precious red Buick. He washed it nearly every week of the year and sometimes more often.  On his way to work the back shift, he had stopped by the Big Stop, just around the corner from the airport, and treated himself to a deluxe car wash.  It was nice change from standing in his driveway applying water in frigid temperatures.

They arrived at the family home at 1:30 in the morning.  Another sister was at the door waiting for them. She did not recognize the vehicle.  She turned to her husband and said “Who the heck is that?”

The vehicle that had been left in aisle E at the airport was a Buick Enclave, brown in color.

It didn’t take too much deciphering, even at this ungodly hour of the night, to determine that something had gone terribly wrong.  They were driving someone else’s vehicle.  They looked in the cubby hole and sure enough, the vehicle registration was in the thick owner’s manual folder.  The owner of the vehicle was Joseph.  They didn’t need to know his last name.  His name wasn’t Cathy.

After a cup of tea and a bite, the vehicle was returned to the airport, to section E, but a few spots down the row from where it had been found.

It had been a particularly busy shift for Joe and he was quite tired as he headed to his vehicle.  He thought it a bit odd that his car had seemed to somehow magically relocate itself.  He also noticed more than a trace of salt on the sides of the car.  He was certain that he had filled the car with gas but it was showing half full.  He chalked all of this up to fatigue.   As he was going through the ticket booth area, the attendant yelled something to him.  Something about him leaving last night mid-shift.  He couldn`t quite hear him as he had Q104 turned up high.

He headed for home in Elmsdale as the sun broke through, a blessed and welcome sight after all the bad weather lately.  He pulled the visor down and an envelope dropped into his lap.  He pulled off to the side of the road.

He opened the envelope and read with interest:

“Dear Joe,

You don’t know us but thanks for the use of your car last night.  Here is some money for gas and a car wash.  If you’re ever in Calgary, look us up.  You can use one of our vehicles.”

Joe climbed into bed thinking that it might be time to give up the back shift.

 

 

 

Posted on April 7, 2014 under Monday Morning Musings with no comments yet

Masters Week

 

 

It’s my favorite sports event to watch on television. If you are a golfer, or a former golfer ( like me ), there’s nothing like watching The Masters golf tournament. I will go out on a limb: my two choices for a winner are Adam Scott ( in the picture above ) or Matt Kuchar.

I have great news. Bernice MacDonald, photographer extraordinaire, has been added to the program for the fundraiser on the 24^th. She will be showing some of her amazing photos up on the big screen. And one lucky person will receive one of her photos. You will be able to choose the one you want. There will be other door prizes as well.

Five of us gathered at the Prissy Pig on Saturday and swapped stories for an hour. It was a great time. Everybody has so many stories to share. We all agreed on the importance of writing some of this down for posterity. It seems that everything is so fast and fleeting these days. We are blitzed with snippets of information that pass across our screens and are relegated to  “trash.”  I am planning to have another get together at the end of the month.

Speaking of stories, I have two that are fresh off the press. The first one is true. Let me clarify. The circumstances surrounding the story are true. I still don’t know how the story “officially” ended so I concocted my own. A couple travelling home from Calgary for a family emergency, arrived at the airport in Halifax. The instructions were to pick up a vehicle that had been left in the parking garage with the keys under the gas cap. They managed to do this and travelled to the family home in Pictou county. One small problem.  They took the wrong vehicle!  Seriously. The story is called “Taken For a Ride.”

Do you have any idea what a $1200 phone bill in 1976 would equate to today?  Apply an annual inflation rate of 3% over 38 years.  I will tell you the answer but you’ll have to read the story “ Wrong Number” to find out. When I started my teaching career in the fall of 1976 in the Peace River country of Alberta, I had a two bedroom apartment. For the first month, five other guys lived with me. Two of them had serious relationships with women back east. There was no Skype, texting or e-mail back then. The phone was it. Find out what happened when the first phone bill arrived.

Here’s a new fundraising idea. You host a party at your house. I will be the guest. I will bring some stories and my guitar. You collect a donation from every person who shows up. We donate the money to the Hot Meal program. If anyone is game to try it, let me know.

Easter is fast approaching and if you’re looking for gift ideas, I have two: you could buy tickets for the fundraiser or you could get a personally autographed copy of my book to give to a friend or relative.

I submitted 54 stories to my book editor on the weekend so we are officially off and running with book #2.

Have a great week.

P.S.  Take a look at this Youtube video by JP Cormier and consider how lucky you are. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wq0X0bwMprQ#t=151