Posted on May 14, 2025 under Wednesday’s Words of Wisdom with no comments yet

Don’t stop the presses

“Extra! Extra! Read all about it!”

This catch phrase was commonly shouted by newsboys in the United States, particularly in the mid-19^th century, to sell special editions or extras of newspapers.

Do local, small-town papers still matter?

You betcha.

I have had a love affair with the printed word, especially newspapers, since delivering the Chronicle-Herald as a young boy. When I first started reading newspapers, I was attracted most to the sports pages which could run anywhere from 4-6 pages back in the good old days. This section would be loaded with stories of sporting events but what I liked most was the statistics. Like most sport nerds, I wanted to know how many home runs and RBI’s Mickey Mantle had so far in the season or who was leading the scoring race in the NHL.

These days, I’m more likely to be checking out the obituaries!

For decades, if not centuries, local weeklies have been the heartbeat of small town Canada. Long before the advent of the internet, this was the most important source for local news. These papers had everything from local politics, news, sports and features, and if you lived in “The Little Vatican” (Antigonish), there was even a full religious section. And yes, the ever-important obituaries where we learned more about our neighbors’ lives than we could have possibly imagined.

Like so many of my generation, we made scrapbooks, often filled with newspaper clippings. I have a drawer full of these clippings.

Slowly, and insidiously, local weeklies started a downward spiral, first through the takeover by conglomerates, and then the arrival of social media news and entertainment platforms and 24-hour cable television.

Our local gem, The Casket, fell victim to these pressures and today is a sad shadow of what it was once upon a time.

However, there are always survivors amongst the worst shipwrecks. The Guysborough Journal is one of them. They have been churning out local news for well over two decades. They have a loyal following and have managed to buck the trends against huge odds.

In a world that seems more connected and disconnected than ever, The Guysborough Journal still stands tall. Yes. We are connected more than we want or need to be but, sadly, we’re more disconnected than ever. Just go to a restaurant or a sporting event and witness 90% of the people with their attention fixed on a screen. Smart, and stupid. Two things can be right at the same time.

The Journal still speaks to its constituents, ordinary folks like you and me. We have a nascent curiosity. We want to know what’s going on in our own backyards.

The Guysborough Journal is not only alive and well, but it is actually planning to expand its coverage. Today, they will be launching a new section of the paper called “Antigonish This Week”, a “paper within a paper”.

I know that many of my loyal readers are excellent writers and story tellers. Maybe you would like to be a contributor to the paper?

If you are not already a subscriber to the Journal, here’s your chance to climb on board.

“Extra! Extra! Read all about it”!

Before I leave you, a quick medical update. I broke my humerus bone 6 weeks ago. No laughing matter! One never knows what they’re missing until it’s gone. I was absolutely thrilled a few weeks back when I was finally able to dress myself from head to toe. Small victories.

We shouldn’t take anything for granted.

Have a great weekend.

Posted on April 30, 2025 under Wednesday’s Words of Wisdom with no comments yet

Peeling back the layers of my life

 

“Are you reelin’ in the years?

Stowin’ away the time.”

Reelin’ in the Years – Steely Dan

At the ripe old age of 73, my mind is not as sharp as it once was. I’m starting to forget names far too frequently. Sometimes I find it hard to recreate events of the previous week and worst of all, going into a room in my apartment and forgetting what I was going there for. The only thing that keeps me from being unduly alarmed is that most of my friends are experiencing many of the same things. No matter what tactics we employ, like doing crosswords or playing chess, it is inevitable that Father Time is catching up with us.

With this backdrop, why would anyone in their right mind choose to write their memoirs? Who said that I was in my right mind?!

I have been pondering writing my autobiography for a long time. Having written seven books, one of my goals was to pen 10 books by the time I turned 80. I reckoned that writing my memoirs would be an easy one – a “layup” in basketball jargon.

Stop the presses.

I didn’t play organized basketball but when I did, I missed plenty of layups. I can’t think of many pursuits that don’t require effort and diligence.

If I couldn’t remember the name of a high school classmate or what I had for supper last night, how in the hell was I going to capture memories over a lifetime? Like they say, if you’re going to eat an elephant, you’re going to have to take it small bites at a time.

As one might expect, I decided to do this book in chronological order. “Start at the beginning” is a good mantra for a project such as this.

Luckily, I had a lot of memorabilia to draw from including journals, old newspaper clippings, and a large collection of photo albums, to jog my memory. We’re all different and unique. Some people remember periods of their life with absolute clarity while other periods draw a blank. I had vague memories of my early childhood but once I reached the age of 10, I was firing on all cylinders.

One of the many luxuries of growing up in a big family is that I have siblings who are older, who remember things from when I was very young. I tapped into their storytelling prowess and picked up many nuggets that will appear in the book. Who can forget the “sick room” where Friars Balsam cooked on a hot plate bringing comfort to an ailing child?

Progressing through the years, I was able to reach out to schoolmates and university friends to backfill some of my stories and now that my narrative is taking place in the early 2000’s, I have my own children to tell their stories and fill in the blanks.

So far, this has been a fascinating and rewarding experience. While these are technically my stories, many of them are your stories, as many of my readers grew up in the same era.

I was chugging along nicely until I had my unfortunate accident of April 5^th, breaking my right arm, my dominant arm. Dealing with the pain has been one thing but living a left-handed existence has been challenging to say the least. But when these challenges arise, we adapt because we must. Under no circumstances could I contemplate writing on my laptop for the first 10 days of my confinement, but now that I’m progressing and have made adaptations, I’m back at it, full steam ahead.

Not everybody is a writer, but everyone has a story to tell. I think everyone should write their memoirs in one fashion or another. It doesn’t have to be a book. Even jogging down random memories in a scribbler would suffice.

I’m hoping that writing will keep my brain sharp for years to come.

Now , if I could only remember why I made a trip to my bedroom a few minutes ago!

“Memories

Light the corners of my mind,

Misty water- colored memories,

Of the way we were.”

The Way We Were – Barbra Streisand

Have a great weekend.

Posted on April 15, 2025 under Wednesday’s Words of Wisdom with 2 comments

 

You scratch my back…

 

Life is one long, continuous learning curve.

A week and a half ago, I suffered a rather nasty injury. I tripped on a curb and landed hands free on the sidewalk in front of Sobey’s. It was quite the scene. Only loyal Sobey’s customers will get the double entendre. I’m on the mend but it is going to require time and patience.

Besides the pain, the worst part of this is missing my students. The 600 or so students at SAJS are like family to me. I like being around young people. They give me energy and hope in a world filled with chaos and despair these days. One egotistical, self-absorbed, bloviating, boorish, braggart who is the epitome of narcissism, has the entire world gasping at his stupidity and his ability to do untold harm.

When you have lots of time on your hands, you tend to think a lot. This is quite dangerous if you are a grumpy 73-year-old man! I have tried to read during the past 10 days, but the combination of pain and pain medication has left my powers of concentration wanting. The Masters golf tournament last week was a wonderful distraction. I have consciously tried to avoid watching the news. There’s only so much pain a person can endure. I have been watching a wonderful series on CBC Gem called The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel.

My big writing project has stalled. I was on such a great role. It’s bad enough trying to hunt and peck with one good hand, but when you are reduced to typing with your left hand, the non-dominant one, the task becomes daunting.

I am not the most tech savvy person in the universe, but I was aware of voice to text. I tried the dictation feature on Microsoft Word and wasn’t totally enamored. Then I tried Google Docs which was marginally better, but I soon discovered that typing and speaking operate in different pathways in the brain. I simply can’t compose sentences while speaking into a microphone. So here I am, hunting and pecking with my left hand. At the clip I’m going, I reckon that I should finish my autobiography by 2030, or I could just skip the last 30 years of my life!

I can’t say enough of the kindness of my family, my neighbors, and my friends. Everyone has been so supportive, and I want to acknowledge all of the messages that I have received, along with an abundance of food.

I had a visit from Continuing Care last week. As you can well imagine, these folks are run off their feet. I was extremely grateful for their visit, as I risked eviction from my apartment building if someone hadn’t come to wash my armpits. I learned how to put on a shirt, and I will receive a shower aid from the Red Cross.

I travelled to New Glasgow last Friday to meet with an orthopedic surgeon. I can’t say enough about the experience. Everything ran on time and every person I dealt with was super helpful and professional. I was very fortunate to be accompanied by my daughter, Ellie, who took copious notes. Before meeting the surgeon, I had an intake interview with a fracture liaison Registered Nurse. I never knew that there was such an individual, but this person deals almost exclusively with fractures to the arms and hips. She was extremely helpful, and she laid out the next steps in the process.

I had a nice chat with Dr.Prassad. I had met him several years ago and wrote a story about his journey from India to Antigonish. I was relieved to learn that I wouldn’t require surgery. A few more months in a sling and 4 months until I completely recover. Sadly, this will prohibit me from participating in the Scottish heavy events at the Highland Games this summer!

I was fitted with a new sling which is comfortable and brilliant in its simplicity.

I remain grateful. My injuries could have been much worse. I’m receiving great care.

I won’t be strumming my guitar any time soon.

Life is good.

I’m armed with a new sling and a better attitude.

Have a great Easter weekend.