Posted on October 8, 2013 under Storytelling with no comments yet

The story I posted this morning had a few key paragraphs missing at the end. Please revisit my website to see the full story. Thanks.

Posted on October 8, 2013 under Storytelling with no comments yet

The Air Canada flight reached cruising speed when the passenger pulled out a novel that he had purchased prior to the flight.  He was in high spirits, having just completed a successful road race the previous weekend.  He may have been in the best shape of his life as was evidenced by his lean physique.

He carefully removed the silk bookmark, a souvenir from the race.  The bright red letters said it all: 1^St place; The Great Sooke Footrace.  He left the bookmark in a conspicuous place, on the arm of his seat, an aisle seat at that.  As people wandered back and forth to the washroom, their eyes were drawn to the ribbon which had success written all over it.  A young brunette in the opposite aisle seat looked at him several times during the flight, obviously impressed with his running prowess.

I used to live in Victoria and, during that time, visited the small, idyllic community of Sooke on several occasions.

Two things stand out.

Back then the Sooke Harbor House was a well-known restaurant … and quite pricey.  It’s an old converted heritage farmhouse situated at sea level on a beautiful shoreline.   The vista was spectacular and was only surpassed by the gourmet food prepared and served by the chef and his wife.  I had taken a young woman there for dinner, a meal that I could ill afford, but when you are trying to impress, cost is never a factor.  We managed to get through drinks and appetizers before I realized the inappropriateness of my choice of restaurants.  When the main course arrived, my date asked for ketchup to splatter over her magnificent fish dinner.  Our next, and last date, was at Burger King.

Sooke is also famous for a series of waterfalls cascading down a mountain stream.  It resembles a staircase with a pool forming at the bottom of each waterfall.  Hence the name “The Sooke Potholes”. My friends and I decided to check it out one weekend.  The lower pools are not deep and are frequented by parents and small children.  As you go higher up the mountain, the pools get deeper, the water gets colder and the bathing attire changes drastically.  The very last pool is for nudists only.  While I protested vehemently when we reached the top, the other members of my party insisted that this pool was our final stop.  Being a team player, I agreed to stay.

The Great Sooke Footrace is a gem.  It is primarily a trail run and is broadly supported by the local community.  Most races provide race kits which contain the standard fare: notices of upcoming races, coupons for a variety of things, gels and power bars.  The swag at Sooke is quite different.  It is not uncommon to get a can of creamed corn or possibly a bar of Irish spring soap.  Checking the” best before” dates on these products is advised.

The race began on a cloudless summer morning as my brother Tom towed the line with about 400 other runners.  It was hard to ignore the pre- race buzz.

The race could not have gone much better as he manhandled the course.  At around the three-quarter mark he came upon a man who was running the race, incredibly, with a wooden leg.  Just as he began to overtake him the man stumbled momentarily, allowing Tom to pass him.  My brother peered back and he seemed no worse for wear.

The awards ceremony was held at the conclusion of the event.  Tom was outwardly pleased but was inwardly shocked as he approached the stage to receive his first-place medal.  He had never been a front runner in his age division prior to this stunning turn of events.  When the man with the wooden leg accepted the second place medal and there was none awarded for third place, it dawned on him that he and the man with the wooden leg were the only participants in their division.

The passengers on the plane would never know the difference.

 

 

 

Posted on October 5, 2013 under Storytelling with no comments yet

Have you ever arrived at an event when you just know that you’re not in the right place?  It could be as simple as going to a wedding in an unfamiliar city and arriving at the church, the wrong church, not recognizing a single soul.  Or going to a conference at a major convention centre and viewing a power point presentation on the sex lives of snails, when you were expecting pre-retirement planning.

In a small university town, two friends were hosting an evening of story-telling in aid of a local charity.  Ticket sales had been brisk and the demographic was skewed in favor of an older crowd.  In the same campus building, just down the hall, was another production geared to a slightly different age group.  The poster on the wall, not far from the notice advertising the charity event, blared out the words highlighted in fuchsia …

“Sex Toy Bingo”

An elderly couple approached the entrance to the building, running a little bit behind schedule.  The man, slightly hearing-impaired and brandishing a cane, was assisted by his devoted life’s partner.  While her mobility was excellent, her vision was in decline.  To make matters worse, they had not purchased tickets in advance, much to the wife’s chagrin.

They stepped into the lobby of the building, a very busy and confusing place as the two events were being held simultaneously.  To their left was the sparkling new auditorium where the readings were taking place.  To their right, several paces away, was the room rented for sex toy bingo.

A flirtatious young couple, arm in arm, approached the building for an evening of amusement and titillation.  They had decided that a few drinks prior to the experience were in order, just to get them in the mood.  They had wisely purchased their tickets in advance, as these shows often sold out.  They entered the lobby and were met by a smartly dressed young usher, a nice touch but seemingly unnecessary, considering the type of entertainment that they were expecting.

The older couple took a hard right and the young couple entered to their left, having been directed by the usher to the entrance for people already holding tickets.

The young couple found the video montage very entertaining as they took their seats.  They didn’t spot the bingo apparatus or any other equipment for that matter as they stared at a stage with two stools and a podium.

The elderly couple tendered their money to a scantily clad woman holding a whip.  “What do you think that strap is for, Joe?”  Joe’s eyes wandered oh so briefly at the cleavage at eye level.

The lights dimmed in the auditorium as two men, hair thinning, approached the stage.  Introductions ensued followed by the first reading, an amusing tale about a local restaurant.

Across the hall the bingo caller announced that the first prize of the night, for completion of a line in any direction, was the latest edition of “The Joy of Sex”.  The old folks were slightly bewildered but decided not to make a scene.  But when an array of colourful curiosities made its appearance, they realized that they were in the wrong place.

Meanwhile, the young twosome had fallen fast asleep after listening to two of the most boring speakers they had ever heard.  They were politely asked to leave and stumbled up the stairs into the lobby.

They saw a pair of seniors coming down the corridor.  They looked an awful lot like her grandparents.