Surprise, surprise

I swim with a lovely guy.  I'll call him T.  He is silver-haired, handsome and charming and I thought he had said he was a lawyer when we introduced ourselves.  The other day, however, I learned he had been a social worker.  No wonder he doesn't agree with many of my blogs!  "But I like you," he courteously said the other day in the lanes.

Went and re-read a few and can't for the life of me discover what offends him?  Maybe he objects to the posts I do on the Indigenous? But everything I write is fact-based and numbers-driven and you can't argue with numbers, as B, my London School of Economics husband, has taught me.  

There's another fb "friend" on the other end of the spectrum who agrees on pretty much everything I post.  So, you never know what readers think?  I have few official followers, because anyone can read my blogs on the internet, but I get the stats from all over the world and it amazes me how many people read my random musings.  Thousands!  Go figure?!

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But what I really want to blog about are two dead beaus, who have popped up on the internet lately:  My two Brian's -- Smith and Watson.  Both NHL players, they were great guys and unfailingly polite and charming.  My Mother loves them.

Brian Smith, below, was a beau from 1968.  He took me to a Beach Boys concert that summer and we also hung out at The Chaud, where bottles regularly flew.  I remember him grabbing me and pulling me under the table more than once to escape injury  If my Mother had only known!  

He was gunned down in the CJOH parking lot in 1995 at age 54 by a lunatic who was hearing voices.  I was at the cottage when the news came on and I had to sit down.  It was so senseless.  Such a great guy, may he Rest in Peace.

Brian Smith, left.

My other beau around that time was Bryan Watson, who also played for Montreal, among other clubs.  Bryan got his old girlfriend "in the family" way and actually came to Toronto to tell me in person he was going to marry her.  What a class act.  

The summer of 1967, Bryan and I took a trip to his family cottage outside of his hometown of Bancroft, where we went to a barn dance.  I remember his girlfriend, Lindy, was there and was very upset that he was dating me.  Was that why she got pregnant?  Maybe.  Here is the great "Bugsy Watson" in the penalty box for fouling Bobby Hull.  

Bryan in the penalty box with Hull,

I am blogging this because when I get another volume printed (#15), it will be recorded as part of my legacy.  Hopefully, my grands will realize I was not just an old lady who made muffins!