Posted on August 9, 2013 under Storytelling with no comments yet

I have two stories coming up that have a theme in common. Aging.

The first story is about romance but would hardly rate as a best seller with Harlequin. The story begins at the old high school dances and ends at a nursing home. That just about covers the gamut. One of the highlights of my trip to Alberta was a visit I made to an extended care facility. Two people I taught with back in the 1970’s are residents there so I stopped by to see them. We looked at old year books and I played some songs for them.

My story takes place at a nursing home and happened during Christmas last year. Enough time has elapsed for me to get over the shock of what transpired when I went there to sing Christmas carols. I read it out loud for a group of friends in Alberta who got a big kick out of it. The story is called “An Old Romance”.

The second story is about “cheque day”. Have you ever found yourself trapped in a lineup at a financial institution on the day the Canada Pension and Old Age Security cheques arrive? Most times, I will just turn around and leave but on this day, extenuating circumstances forced me to stay in the lineup. I took the opportunity to watch what was going on around me. I never studied anthropology at university but I’m thinking of getting a government grant to do an examination of the phenomenon of cheque day. Weather and ailments figure prominently in this story. It is called “Chequed”…. coming soon.

Hope you have a great weekend and stay tuned tomorrow for “Last Tango in Toronto”.

Posted on August 5, 2013 under Storytelling with one comment

It’s very difficult to pack a week of activity and emotion into five hundred words.  Such is my challenge as I try to sum up my thoughts from my recent visit to the North Peace Country.

Did you ever notice that when you are vacationing, you always seem to be eating, especially when the vacation is all about visiting old friends?  When we weren’t eating, we were driving Vinnie’s old red truck past magnificent fields of canola, wheat and barley.  Many of the locals feel that this could be one of the best crops ever.

We walked, we talked, we reminisced, we shopped (well, one of us shopped), and we laughed (a lot!) and even let a tear slip by times.  We shared stories of times past but made sure that we enjoyed the present.  The days were long and warm.  So were the memories.

We stayed at Kay and Vinnie’s farm, the epicentre of hospitality in Golden Meadow, if not the entire area.  The Helfricks are the best hosts that one could possibly imagine.

I am an early riser and the first morning at the farm provided the first of many humorous incidents.   It was still dark as I was creeping around the kitchen trying to make coffee in order to get my heart started.  I was making every effort not to wake anyone so I left the lights off and fumbled my way around.  I placed the filter in the basket and commenced pouring the water into the back of the tank.  To my horror, the water started spilling over the edges, into an adjacent drawer, down the sides of the cupboards and onto the floor.  In my semi-conscious state, it took me a few seconds to realize what was happening.  Someone had filled the tank to the top the night before, preparing to make coffee in the morning to take to work.  I took a lot of good natured ribbing for this.

The purpose of the trip was to gather with former students that I had taught (and I use the term loosely!) back in the late 1970’s. There were two official functions which were very heartwarming and several other unscheduled get-togethers.  Thankfully, none of my former students exposed my frailties to my wife.  It was a chance for pay back but mercifully, they restrained themselves.

It was amazing to jam with Trevor, a former student from Whitelaw who took the few chords I taught him and went on to become a wonderful musician.

While I am not one of those who lament the passage of time, it is still quite shocking to be standing in front of someone you taught who is now a mother and a grandmother.

Betty and I want to thank everyone who treated us so kindly.  We could not have been made to feel more welcome.  My good friend, Jim has an expression that I think of often at times like this; “It’s hard to make new, old friends”.

To paraphrase the old Eagles tune,” I got a peaceful easy feeling.”   Thanks for the memories.

Posted on August 2, 2013 under Storytelling with one comment

Our family had one of the first televisions back in the 1950’s.  I believe it was an RCA but I know for certain that it was black and white, had one channel (CBC) and required rabbit ears in order to get a grainy picture.  It had one knob to turn it off and on, another for contrast and one to lighten or darken the screen.  Period.  There was no dispute over which channel to watch.  And you actually had to approach the T.V. to turn it off and on.  We thought we had died and gone to heaven.

We watched Roy Rogers and Dale Evans, and I Love Lucy.  Perry Mason was our hero and Hoss and Little Joe felt like family.  We watched Elvis not swivel his hips on the Ed Sullivan Show.  We were entertained by The Three Stooges (more on that topic later) and Leave It to Beaver.  And the big thrill of the week was watching two of the original six teams in the NHL do battle on Saturday nights.

As Barbra Streisand sang “Can it be that it was all so simple then?”

And then technology came roaring along.  The number of channels increased to two (welcome CTV) and, wonder of wonders, we were mesmerized when color T.V became a reality.  We quickly moved into a multi-channel universe, cable television and satellite T.V.  In recent years we have been inundated with other advances including high definition display, split screens and most recently, smart T.V.s.

And, along the way, some arsehole invented the remote control.  It’s bad enough that he designed one remote for each T.V. brand and model.  But no, he wasn’t satisfied, so then he created universal remotes and those that are needed for DVD players or special AV systems and do certain things but won’t do others.

After a busy week of toil, I sat back on the chesterfield to watch a taped broadcast of the British Open.  I paused it for a few moments while I spent some quality time with my wife, preparing and dining on a carefully and lovingly prepared supper of barbequed hotdogs and leftover pan fried potatoes.  I sure know how to impress a gal.  When I returned to catch the last three holes of the broadcast, I hit the “play” button and nothing happened.  After using a remote for the last thirty years or so, I thought I had it mastered.  After several attempts I was ready to heave the three remotes on the side table right through the 52” high def screen.

Having learned deep breathing at yoga classes, I summoned my inner calm and tried again.  Nothing.  Fearing carnage, I called upon the voice of reason.  She fiddled with all the remotes and she too came up empty handed.  I even resorted to a technique I use when my computer betrays me: unplug, wait 3 minutes and try again.

Desperate times call for desperate measures so I called a buddy of mine.  I dragged him away from his dinner table.  What a classy guy I am, begging for help on a Friday evening.  This guy knows everything about technology.  I took mild pleasure in the fact that he didn’t diagnose the problem in the first 60 seconds.  He whipped out a battery charge detector like a gun slinger at the OK Corral.  They appeared to be ok and after re-inserting them in their casing, lo and behold, everything came back to life.

My wife informed me later that evening that she would be attending several yard sales the following morning.  I asked her if she could keep her eye out for a 1955 black and white television.

One of the Three Stooges is still alive.