Two handsome, strapping lads greeted B in a Montreal kitchen in 1949. Gordie was 21 and Ted 25. Friends of friends, both had popped in for a visit and B, although a dedicated Leaf's fan, was nonetheless awed. Can you imagine those guys dropping by for a chin-wag?!
Gordie, "Mr. Hockey", is now 86 and Ted Lindsay 89. Lindsay was born in "The Frew", as those of us from The Valley know it. Renfrew produced its fair share of well-known athletes, as did many other towns in that region -- like The Prior, for example. Gordie hailed from Saskatchewan.
They don't make 'em like that anymore. Gordie has a new biography out, going to read it. Two years ago I went to a charity event here in Calgary, organized by Mr. Hockey himself. Even got my picture taken with Lord Stanley's Cup, in honour of the two NHL players I dated back-in-the-day. (Everything you've ever heard about dating NHL hockey players is true, by the way.) Blogged the event, have a read.
"Hey, would you like to play drums for our last set?" said a very young musician to B in Liverpool in 1961. And so he did. The drummer, Pete Best, was "over-refreshed" and George Harrison invited B to have a go. This brush with fame happened in the Cavern Club and the group was 'The Quarrymen' -- soon to become 'The Beatles'. Yep, all true. B actually played drums with The Beatles. Think I have blogged this before (??), but can't remember. The other "players" he partied with that year in London were Christine Keeler, Mandy Rice-Davies and Stephen Ward. If you don't know who these characters were, you should. Google them.
Saturday, October 11, 2014
Wednesday, October 8, 2014
What was he thinking?
The sad suicide of RCMP Cpl. Ron Francis certainly brought attention to PTSD, but the big issue is pretty clear: he was deliberately smoking marijuana in uniform, in public, while on duty. He gave the force no choice but to suspend him from duty, which was actually quite considerate because I am sure his was a firing offence. He broke the law and no police force can continue to employ a member who blatantly does that. Just can't.
What would any employer do if an employee sat at his or her desk and drank or smoked weed all day? What if everyone decided to drink and smoke on the job? You'd go into Walmart and everyone would be stoned. You'd go to the gas station and the attendant would be stoned. The pilot on your next flight would be stoned. The bank teller would be stoned. The surgeon performing your heart transplant would be stoned. Remember 'Flight', the movie in which Denzel Washington plays an alcoholic airline pilot? I could go on, but you get the idea. Can't be tolerated. Period, the end.
Francis was being treated for his disorder and was on medical leave, which was a nice thing for the force to do. They didn't fire him. Apparently, he became traumatized as a result of the carnage and violence he witnessed -- particularly on his own native reserve, among his own people. But carnage and violence are the nature of police work. I have a son-in-law who is a firefighter and he deals with tragedy all the time. What if he were to drink and smoke on the job? Would we all feel safe if he zig-zaggedly drove the fire engine and staggered into burning buildings?
For some reason, everyone is blaming the RCMP? They could not have been more sympathetic in their public statements. Francis called the marijuana-smoking "a red herring". No, it wasn't a red herring, it was the "real herring". Drug use was the issue. While it's always sad when someone commits suicide (my own brother did so 31 years ago), there are other issues plaguing these people and try as any employer might to counsel them, the employer should not be held responsible.
The saddest thing is the loss his action has now caused his wife and four children to bear.
What would any employer do if an employee sat at his or her desk and drank or smoked weed all day? What if everyone decided to drink and smoke on the job? You'd go into Walmart and everyone would be stoned. You'd go to the gas station and the attendant would be stoned. The pilot on your next flight would be stoned. The bank teller would be stoned. The surgeon performing your heart transplant would be stoned. Remember 'Flight', the movie in which Denzel Washington plays an alcoholic airline pilot? I could go on, but you get the idea. Can't be tolerated. Period, the end.
Francis was being treated for his disorder and was on medical leave, which was a nice thing for the force to do. They didn't fire him. Apparently, he became traumatized as a result of the carnage and violence he witnessed -- particularly on his own native reserve, among his own people. But carnage and violence are the nature of police work. I have a son-in-law who is a firefighter and he deals with tragedy all the time. What if he were to drink and smoke on the job? Would we all feel safe if he zig-zaggedly drove the fire engine and staggered into burning buildings?
For some reason, everyone is blaming the RCMP? They could not have been more sympathetic in their public statements. Francis called the marijuana-smoking "a red herring". No, it wasn't a red herring, it was the "real herring". Drug use was the issue. While it's always sad when someone commits suicide (my own brother did so 31 years ago), there are other issues plaguing these people and try as any employer might to counsel them, the employer should not be held responsible.
The saddest thing is the loss his action has now caused his wife and four children to bear.
Tuesday, October 7, 2014
Musings............
Dear Diary,
Why does it seem that lesbians are always fat? Every time I see a group gathered to protest something or other, or get publically married, they're fat. Oh, and angry and ugly. On purpose. Not so gay men. They are usually fit, happy, friendly and cheerful. And by the way, they like women, as opposed to their female counterparts who positively hate men. All men.
Anecdotal I know, but with the exception of Ellen-and-Portia and Kathleen Wynne, the majority of lesbians one sees in the public thoroughfare are fat. And they don't seem to care a whit?!
______________________________________
When last I tried to look up my birth father, there was no google and I didn't get much information. But last night I took another crack at it and a ton of information popped up. He only died a few years ago, after an illustrious athletic career. I knew he was an umpire in one of the US baseball leagues (I am not going to name it), but I didn't realize just how famous he was. He won championships in speed skating, roller skating, horseshoes and table tennis. He was also a pitcher and short stop in baseball's minor leagues, playing in the border league, which is how my birth mother met him. Very "briefly", shall we say.
So, now I know where I and my children get our athletic ability. My birth mother did not tell him of her pregnancy, so I did not get to meet him. For that matter, I didn't meet her either because she had died at 49 (smoking lung cancer), a year before I found her. My natural father went on until well into his late eighties, so I may have a few more years in me yet.
That is why adoptees are so interested (read "obsessed") with their roots. Natural children take it all for granted, but those of us who had other beginnings have this strong urge to find out why we are the way we are. All very interesting, don't you think?
Why does it seem that lesbians are always fat? Every time I see a group gathered to protest something or other, or get publically married, they're fat. Oh, and angry and ugly. On purpose. Not so gay men. They are usually fit, happy, friendly and cheerful. And by the way, they like women, as opposed to their female counterparts who positively hate men. All men.
Anecdotal I know, but with the exception of Ellen-and-Portia and Kathleen Wynne, the majority of lesbians one sees in the public thoroughfare are fat. And they don't seem to care a whit?!
______________________________________
When last I tried to look up my birth father, there was no google and I didn't get much information. But last night I took another crack at it and a ton of information popped up. He only died a few years ago, after an illustrious athletic career. I knew he was an umpire in one of the US baseball leagues (I am not going to name it), but I didn't realize just how famous he was. He won championships in speed skating, roller skating, horseshoes and table tennis. He was also a pitcher and short stop in baseball's minor leagues, playing in the border league, which is how my birth mother met him. Very "briefly", shall we say.
So, now I know where I and my children get our athletic ability. My birth mother did not tell him of her pregnancy, so I did not get to meet him. For that matter, I didn't meet her either because she had died at 49 (smoking lung cancer), a year before I found her. My natural father went on until well into his late eighties, so I may have a few more years in me yet.
That is why adoptees are so interested (read "obsessed") with their roots. Natural children take it all for granted, but those of us who had other beginnings have this strong urge to find out why we are the way we are. All very interesting, don't you think?
Monday, October 6, 2014
The Things I Put Myself Through
When I decide to laz around, I often end up watching a movie. Yesterday's mistake was watching "Maid in Manhattan". G-d what a bad movie! What was director Wayne Wong thinking in pairing an eighth cousin of the Prince of Wales (Ralph Fiennes) with someone from Costa Rica-via-The Bronx (Jennifer Lopez)?! Poor Ralph. He must have been hard up for money to agree to star in this mess.
The most poignant part was watching the beautiful late Natasha Richardson, the rival for Ralph's affections. She was breathtaking and it was heartbreaking to realize that this was just seven years before her untimely demise in a freak skiing accident in Mont Tremblant.
The whole movie was ridiculous. As if a guy running for the US Senate would fall for a lower-class hotel maid!? And as if a candidate would go public with his sad affections. As we all know, Senators and Congressmen -- like all politicians -- go to great lengths to hide these tawdry affairs. They lie like rugs. But not old Ralph. He wore his pathetic heart on his sleeve at all times, while JayLo lectured him on the need to help the poor in New York. Please.
It was not only implausible, it was impossible. I cringed the whole way through. Man, better figure out how to get Netflicks hooked up in a hurry!
The most poignant part was watching the beautiful late Natasha Richardson, the rival for Ralph's affections. She was breathtaking and it was heartbreaking to realize that this was just seven years before her untimely demise in a freak skiing accident in Mont Tremblant.
The whole movie was ridiculous. As if a guy running for the US Senate would fall for a lower-class hotel maid!? And as if a candidate would go public with his sad affections. As we all know, Senators and Congressmen -- like all politicians -- go to great lengths to hide these tawdry affairs. They lie like rugs. But not old Ralph. He wore his pathetic heart on his sleeve at all times, while JayLo lectured him on the need to help the poor in New York. Please.
It was not only implausible, it was impossible. I cringed the whole way through. Man, better figure out how to get Netflicks hooked up in a hurry!
Saturday, October 4, 2014
What's their position?
Where are Canadian Indians on ISIS? What is their position? Do they have one? No, because it's not "their" issue. "Native" Canadians are at war with their own country: Canada. They protest everything, just for the sake of being anti-Canadian. And in return for paying no taxes (if they are status and on-reserve) receive $8.5 billion a year -- not a penny for which they are accountable.
Make no mistake. You can bet they will protest each and every pipeline ever proposed anywhere. And yet Canada needs to get its oil to world markets. We are in deep do-do if we can't sell this resource. But Canadians are too politically-correct to stand up and get pissed off. Oh, and I forgot to lump in the enviros and the mostly-white lawyers in the native cottage industry who also profit enormously from these blanket protests.
As I have blogged many times, my great-grandmother was a Mohawk, but thank G-d she married off-reserve to enable the rest of her brood to morph into being "Canadian". The behaviour of native leaders today is absolutely scandalous.
Make no mistake. You can bet they will protest each and every pipeline ever proposed anywhere. And yet Canada needs to get its oil to world markets. We are in deep do-do if we can't sell this resource. But Canadians are too politically-correct to stand up and get pissed off. Oh, and I forgot to lump in the enviros and the mostly-white lawyers in the native cottage industry who also profit enormously from these blanket protests.
As I have blogged many times, my great-grandmother was a Mohawk, but thank G-d she married off-reserve to enable the rest of her brood to morph into being "Canadian". The behaviour of native leaders today is absolutely scandalous.
Friday, October 3, 2014
Fear and loathing
After a week of technological messes, I can't even bear to take the 'Chromecast' product out of its package. All I wanted was 'Netflicks', but B bought a new TV which didn't include the device. So, we had to buy the adapter. "Do you have WiFi?" asked the two-year-old salesman at 'Future Shop'. How would I know??!! I have no clue!!??
"Well, do you have a computer?" Yes, we have a desktop. The whole exercise was hideous. But not as hideous as trying to figure out why I can no longer receive data on my cell phone. For some reason, I can no longer send or receive email, photos, etc.......... Only texts. What did I do? Went back to the 'Koodo' kiosk where we bought the device three years ago. "Oh, you'll have to call the help-line," said one of the lack-a-dasical salesmen lounging in the store. Whaaaaat?!! I bought this stupid phone here, you are 'Koodo' but I have to go home and sit on the line for help?!! Yep, that was about it.
Finally talked to someone in Montreal, who asked me if the mall layabouts had checked my SIM card. No, they did not. "Well, you'll have to go back to the store and ask them to remove your SIM card and see if it works in another device. If it does, it's your phone; if not, it's another problem," she helpfully suggested. What an effing mess!!
So I sit, looking at the 'Netflicks' adapter, afraid to even try to install it. What if it doesn't cooperate? I can't cope.
How I long for the days of rotary-dial phones and no "devices".
"Well, do you have a computer?" Yes, we have a desktop. The whole exercise was hideous. But not as hideous as trying to figure out why I can no longer receive data on my cell phone. For some reason, I can no longer send or receive email, photos, etc.......... Only texts. What did I do? Went back to the 'Koodo' kiosk where we bought the device three years ago. "Oh, you'll have to call the help-line," said one of the lack-a-dasical salesmen lounging in the store. Whaaaaat?!! I bought this stupid phone here, you are 'Koodo' but I have to go home and sit on the line for help?!! Yep, that was about it.
Finally talked to someone in Montreal, who asked me if the mall layabouts had checked my SIM card. No, they did not. "Well, you'll have to go back to the store and ask them to remove your SIM card and see if it works in another device. If it does, it's your phone; if not, it's another problem," she helpfully suggested. What an effing mess!!
So I sit, looking at the 'Netflicks' adapter, afraid to even try to install it. What if it doesn't cooperate? I can't cope.
How I long for the days of rotary-dial phones and no "devices".
Tuesday, September 30, 2014
Good for him
"I haven't smoked for four months," said a young man I know. "Wow! Good for you," I replied. "I just got sick of myself and quit cold-turkey," he added. I thought he was talking about regular cigarettes, but he was talking about marijuana. "I was a functioning, daily weed addict," he told me, "but I couldn't stand myself anymore."
Well, what do you know!? I gave him a big hug and told him how proud I was of him. "I bet your mother and father are very happy," I added. "They are. I even got my brother to quit."
________________________________________________
"You will have another dentist today," said the receptionist at the clinic. "Dr. "M" has broken his hand." I was there for my fourth and final visit to have my ancient silver fillings replaced by amalgam. Anyone with me here? Apparently, the old silver fillings we all endured threaten to crack our teeth. In fact, every single filling replaced had a cavity underneath it. I have only had four cavities in my entire life -- thanks to my father's refusal to allow sugar into out diets. I think we have 32 teeth, which means 28 teeth have no cavities; four is not bad. But, not wishing to lose those teeth with silver fillings, I endured replacements.
The dentist I had today was the wife of my usual dentist. What a charmer! Beautiful too. They are a great couple.
Boring, I know, but that was my day.
Well, what do you know!? I gave him a big hug and told him how proud I was of him. "I bet your mother and father are very happy," I added. "They are. I even got my brother to quit."
________________________________________________
"You will have another dentist today," said the receptionist at the clinic. "Dr. "M" has broken his hand." I was there for my fourth and final visit to have my ancient silver fillings replaced by amalgam. Anyone with me here? Apparently, the old silver fillings we all endured threaten to crack our teeth. In fact, every single filling replaced had a cavity underneath it. I have only had four cavities in my entire life -- thanks to my father's refusal to allow sugar into out diets. I think we have 32 teeth, which means 28 teeth have no cavities; four is not bad. But, not wishing to lose those teeth with silver fillings, I endured replacements.
The dentist I had today was the wife of my usual dentist. What a charmer! Beautiful too. They are a great couple.
Boring, I know, but that was my day.
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