Posted on February 19, 2018 under Monday Morning Musings with 6 comments

My daughter Margaret and mom

The signs are all there. We know it’s coming. We can see it, feel it, taste it and smell it. We can feel it in our bones. The days on the calendar are being checked off. It can’t be long now.

We’re getting older and all along you thought I was talking about the arrival of spring. Gotcha!

Facebook, that glorious repository of truth and knowledge, serves up a gem every once in a while. I noticed this post a few days ago: “It’s official. I’m losing it. Just entered my iPhone passcode into the microwave to make a cup of tea.” Yes, folks, for those of you haven’t yet received your first Old Age Security cheque, this is what you have coming straight at you.

I am starting to see the telltale signs of aging. None of them are really egregious (yet!) but make no mistake; the aging process is well underway. All of the senses listed in the first paragraph are not as refined as they once were.

Ok. So I showed up for a big pot luck dinner in late October. It wasn’t only October that was late. I strutted up the sidewalk on Church Street to St. James United Church planning on a scrumptious meal to mark the end of the Antigonish International Film festival. I went all out and dressed up in one of my colorful outfits acquired in India. Yes, it did seem a bit odd at first that there were no cars parked along the way, but the locked door to the church hall was a dead giveaway. After a few knocks on the door, the custodian gave me entrance but it was all for naught. The dinner had been held the previous day.

Other signs of aging. You’re heading to another room in the house to get something and upon arrival, you don’t have a clue what you’re looking for, requiring you to backtrack and start the process all over again. I know. You’ve done it too. We just can’t see that embarrassed look on your face.

You’re walking down the Main Street of your home town and you see someone coming that you’ve known for maybe 150 years. When they pass, you either (1) call them by their incorrect name or (2) grunt a generic “How’s it going” because you can’t remember their name.

You know you’re getting old when your joints are more accurate meteorologists than Environment Canada.

Your secrets are safe with your friends because they won’t remember them either.

You make a list of things to pack for a big trip so you won’t forget anything and then can’t find the list.

Care to add your own favourites to the list?

Because the local restaurants were packed on Valentine’s Day, I decided to celebrate by hanging out with the folks at the R.K. MacDonald Nursing Home. I was pressed into service on short notice and spent part of the afternoon singing with the residents. The pay was excellent: Valentine’s cake with strawberries and whipped cream. Being the first day of Lent as well, I swallowed hard having hours earlier committed to refraining from sweets for forty days and forty nights. Hell, I barely made it to 40 minutes!

You know those newfangled curly lightbulbs that take a few minutes to light up? This is more or less how I would describe singing with the elderly. Amongst the 40 or so people who endured my singing, a handful was engaged from the first bar of “I’ve been working on the Railroad.” Over the next hour, you could see faces coming alive as they mouthed the words of all those familiar tunes from a bygone era. Nearing the end of the session, I stopped playing the guitar on the chorus and just listened. The room was filled with the joyous voices from the present and the past. All the lightbulbs were fully illuminated.

I can’t think of a better way to have spent Valentine’s Day.

Oh, and yes, spring is coming too!

Have a great week.

Posted on February 12, 2018 under Monday Morning Musings with one comment

It’s definitely ” man cold” season

 

“Sittin’ downtown in a railway station,

One toke over the line.”

One Toke Over The Line. Brewer and Shipley.

ALLERGY ALERT: IF YOU ARE ALLERGIC TO BAD PUNS, YOU MIGHT WANT TO SKIP THIS POST. IT’S LIKE A NOXIOUS WEED.

There was a time not all that long ago, that a 1000 point drop on the Dow Jones Industrial Average would tie up my stomach in knots and result in sleepless nights. I was in the financial business during the technology “dot com” bubble meltdown in 2000 and of course the epic market crash of 2008-09. I can put the blame on my hair loss squarely on the shoulders of the stock market.

These days, I am merely a spectator… mostly.

My brother from Victoria has been visiting this past week and during our early morning get togethers for coffee (usually around 6:30 a.m.); we cover a wide range of topics. The other day, we were comparing aches and pains and the topic of medical marijuana came up. Well, one thing led to another and while we were sipping the last of our java, I bought a handful of stocks in a Canadian marijuana company.

Warren Buffett, arguably one of the most successful investors ever, has always lived by the mantra, “don’t invest in anything you don’t understand.”

I started university in 1970, the very year that the power house band (?), Brewer and Shipley”, wrote the iconic lyrics to “ One Toke Over The Line.” I took those lyrics seriously. The Doobie Brothers became one of my favourite bands. So when I decided to buy shares in a “joint” stock company, I felt comfortable that I had a better than average knowledge of this soon to be legal consumer product.

My newly purchased shares went to pot in early trading but recovered at the end of the day on a high. At one point, when the price dropped 10%, I thought my investment had gone up in smoke.

I think that’s enough groans for today!

“Live From The Beach.”

You asked. I delivered.

My 15 minutes of fame last week with my videos of the flood, prompted many of you (tongue and cheek, of course) to suggest I take up a career in broadcasting. Particularly weather forecasting.  Well known television meteorologist, Cindy Day, retired recently prompting one of my children to dub me “Cindy Dad.”  Where do they get their quirky sense of humour?!

On the weekend, I headed out to Mahoney’s Beach to broadcast the weekend weather. I was tired of filming on the banks of the swollen Brierly Brook. (Those videos, by the way, were viewed over 125,000 times). Now obviously I’m no Frankie MacDonald when it comes to weather prognostications, even though we share the same last name. If you haven’t heard one of Frankie’s famous storm predictions, just Google him. He’s a legend in these parts.

As expected, I received lots of cheeky responses. I’m still puzzled about the comments suggesting a “bobble head doll.”

So, here’s the deal. Starting this Saturday, weather permitting (!); I will be doing a live weather forecast from “Some Beach, Somewhere.” (For you harness racing fans out there).  “Live from the Beach “will be a 60 second video bringing you up to the minute weather forecasts. But wait… there’s more. (This sounds like an old K-Tel commercial.)  If you have an event that you want plugged at the last minute, just send me the info by Friday and I will do my best to include it in my one minute video. No bingo cancellation notices please!

Get high on life.

Have a great week.

Posted on February 5, 2018 under Monday Morning Musings with no comments yet

Will ye no come back again?

 

“There’s a time for joy, a time for tears,

A time we’ll treasure through the years,

We’ll remember always,

Graduation day.

Graduation Day. The Beach Boys.

Do you remember your high school graduation? Did you write Provincial exams? Did you go to the prom?

In two years’ time, it will be 50 years since I graduated from high school. How in the hell did that happen? Wasn’t it just yesterday that we sat on the railing outside “The Alleys”, watching the world going by, wondering where the journey of life would take us? I suspect every one of us reels just a bit when we consider the passage of time.

Fifty years.

The present day Annex, on the campus of St.F.X. University, was once Antigonish High School, my alma mater. And yes, I was a member of that class, the very last graduating class before the school became the property of the university.

Fifty years. I’m still in disbelief.

A few of my classmates from that era got together last week and have put the wheels in motion for a reunion. I used to pooh pooh reunions but now I treasure them. And it won’t be just the “class of 70” who are being invited. Back in those days, you could go directly from grade XI to university. So anyone who was a grade XI student in 68-69 will be receiving an invitation as well. Keep your eyes open for a new “AHS Reunion” Facebook page. Apparently the PINS Bowling Center has the original wood from the Braeside lanes. Maybe we’ll bowl a few strings… if we can bend over to toss the bowling ball!

Somewhere in the Oak Ridge Cemetery in Springfield, Illinois, Abraham Lincoln is weeping. I’m currently reading Ronald C. White’s excellent biography called “A. Lincoln.” Abraham Lincoln was the first Republican President. He would not recognize his party these days. He was humble, self-effacing and had a wonderful, self-deprecating sense of humour. He was also a voracious reader and had a keen intellect. He championed the anti-slavery movement. And he preached equality. When he became President, his country was deeply divided.

That paragraph will likely get me in trouble but it is so interesting to read history to help understand the present.

Calling all volunteers.

The National Special Olympics are coming to Antigonish this summer from July 31rd to August 4^th. It is quite an honor for an Antigonish and a chance for us to strut our stuff. In order to deliver a high quality event the organizers needs lots of help, of every imaginable kind. I have agreed to do some media stuff. What about you? No experience necessary… just a big heart. Please check out this site and put your name in if you can spare a few hours of your time. http://www.specialolympics.ca/2018-national-games/volunteer/volunteer

Have a great week.