Posted on August 11, 2015 under News & Updates with 3 comments

Thank you

There was so much goodwill shared yesterday, including flattering comments and best wishes  ( and the odd cheap shot) , that my head swelled and my hair magically grew back. I was chuffed. ( thanks for the word RMM ).

Posted on August 10, 2015 under Monday Morning Musings with no comments yet

One of my greatest joys…. jamming with Betsy

( Corey Leblanc photo )

 

 

For most people, having a chance to hang out with their kids is always special. When you get to share the stage with one of your children, this is extra special. On very short notice last week, my daughter Betsy, a wonderful community minded person and a consummate professional, agreed to do a couple of sets with me at the Antigonish Art Fair. The organizers had a few holes to fill in the schedule at the gazebo, and Betsy and I stepped in to fill the void. It was a beautiful, soft, warm summer evening and having the opportunity to do some tunes with her was a joy. It doesn’t get much better than this , folks.

FYI. The last Art Fair of 2015 is scheduled for Friday, August 21^st. It’s shaping up to be a great evening with lots of performers, artists and food vendors… and the ever popular Children’s Corner.

I want to give a big shout out to Arpo the Clown, MoMo and Ally for graciously giving their time at the Art Fair to entertain the children.

So much to talk about and so little space. There was quite a buzz out at Bayfield last week with the beached whales and subsequent rescue. Betty and I were there to witness the heroic efforts of about 75 volunteers as they returned these magnificent mammals safely to the ocean. In case you missed it, check out my “podcast” (!) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v6ix1OIjThw

I’m working on some new stories. Next week I will be publishing the story of a teacher’s nightmarish return to the classroom in September. Not sure who dreads the start of school the most: students, teachers or parents. “Class Act” will reveal all!

I have another true story to pass along… well most of it is true. I seem to have this habit of embellishing these types of stories. This happened in the choir loft last winter… cold and flu season. See what happens when there is a mad scramble to find tissue paper for an important member of the choir. I haven’t found the perfect title yet but it could end up being “ Nobody Nose.”

I continue to get all kinds of feedback from three recently published stories. “ Positively Pat” struck a chord with many of you. Pat and I continue to communicate on a regular basis ( she uses voice activated e-mail ). Invariably she ends her messages with the word “cheers.” We can all draw inspiration from this amazing woman. I hope you will come and meet her when she comes to Antigonish this fall to give a talk.

The story on the Opportunity Shop ( “When Opportunity Knocks” ) had one of the biggest responses that I’ve ever received for a story. I didn’t realize what an iconic business this was until I did the story. The women who have kept this business going for over 60 years are something else.

“Michael’s Mitts” also got a good read. I heard that he was signing autographs at the Tim Horton’s in St. Peters the day after the story was published in the Cape Breton Star! By the way, expatriate Cape Bretoners and anyone else interested can get the Star on line for free. Just follow this link: http://capebretonstar.ca/

In the coming months I will be doing other stories about interesting Cape Bretoners in The Star. Ditto for The Casket. If you know of someone that I should interview, just drop me a line.

Have a great week.

P.S. The special account at the Credit Union for young Maud van Bommel will likely be closed at the end of this week. If you are still interested in making a donation, drop in to the Credit Union or see me.

P.P.S. New, embroidered “Week45” baseball hats go on sale this week. Be sure to order this “collector’s item” !

 

Posted on August 6, 2015 under Storytelling with one comment

Don’t mess with Michael!

 

 

The first thing you notice when you meet Michael MacDonald of Red Islands, Cape Breton, is his hands.

They are the hands of one who has known hard labour. They are the hands of a stevedore, an auto body repairman and a fisherman. They are the hands of a man who still cuts his own wood to heat his home. They are the hands of a one-time pugilist. They are also the hands that gently caress a fiddle.

These are Michael’s mitts.

Honest toil. Like many people of his generation, he grew up without electricity and many other comforts in life. That’s just how it was back then and it was the norm. It was a hard life. But Michael does not lament these times. “The harder your upbringing is, the farther you go. Life was not handed to us on a silver platter.” He chuckles when he hears about people going to gyms to get a workout. Mike is a great walker and loves the outdoors. “Exercise and fresh air is all you really need.”

Like many Cape Bretoners, Michael went “down the road” to Ontario in his youth. He worked in Ottawa and Toronto and it was during this time that boxing became a central part of his life. He was an up and comer in the boxing world. When asked how he got his start, Michael says that he honed his craft behind the Big Pond dance hall! He trained in the same gym as the legendary heavyweight, George Chuvalo. He says that he never went into the ring with Chuvalo “which explains why I’m still alive today.”

He was intrigued with the boxing world and retired undefeated. An accident while back in Nova Scotia, curtailed any dreams of making it to the big times. But rather than bemoaning this fact, Michael says it was a blessing. Many of his boxing contemporaries are no longer alive or have suffered from brain damage. He also became quite skeptical about the business, as most of the boxers were pawns. “For every boxer that got rich, there were a thousand who didn’t, much of the gate being taken by trainers and managers.”

In one memorable fight, as he made his way to the ring, someone came out of the crowd and put him in a headlock. “I’m Neily John the Widow and I’m your mother’s first cousin.” This was a subtle reminder not to forget ones roots in Cape Breton and not to let fame get to Michael’s head.

It was much later in life, when he returned to Red Islands, that Michael pursued in earnest his life-long passion for the fiddle. Throughout Cape Breton, fiddles remain the anchor of kitchen parties and community dances. At the age of 12 he took his one and only fiddle lesson from none other than Johnny “Rye”. Johnny was from St. Peter’s and was a gifted musician. According to Johnny, a fiddle out of tune was a fiddle that couldn’t be played, so he taught Michael the ABC’s of fiddle tuning. Johnny would tune the fiddle and then “untune” it, repeating the exercise a half dozen times until Michael could do it perfectly.

Michael enjoys playing in public. He says that funerals are one of his mainstays. “You don’t get much criticism from the guest of honor when all you do is play at funerals.”

Not only does Michael play but he also repairs and builds fiddles. When asked about how he learned to build a stringed instrument, he said he simply learned by doing … part of his ingrained self-sufficiency.

Like a cat with nine lives, Michael has survived some major health scares in recent years. A short while ago he was gravely ill and spent the better part of a year in palliative care. “The nursing staff finally gave up on me when I wouldn’t die and shipped me back home.” During this period of time, Michael nearly threw in the towel on more than one occasion. He describes “the most peaceful feeling imaginable” as he entered the tunnel. When pushed for detail, he said the only other thing he could compare it to was when he won a fight and raised his gloves in the air.

Michael has no regrets. “It is the best life I ever had,” he quips. His greatest pleasure is to jump into his boat and spend time on his beloved Bras D ’or Lakes.

The conversation is wrapping up when Michael goes over and opens the fiddle case. He gently holds the instrument in his broad, rough hands. Far from the fury of a boxing ring, while staring out at the water, he plays “Niel Gow’s Lament” and “Ashokan Farewell”. His love of music and the place he calls home is apparent.

His bright eyes sparkle. There will be no more “going down the road” for this Cape Bretoner.