Father's Day Feast

The bankruptcy of Red Lobster resulted in headlines and many memes on social media. All-you-can-eat shrimp was the butt of many jokes. As for me, the news triggered melancholy memories of my father. He was 91 and in the hospital. It was Father’s Day. His health was failing but he was still alert and eating. He couldn’t go out but he needed a respite from hospital food. Red Lobster was a no brainer. Dad loved seafood. I walked in with a big meal for mum and dad to share. It was like a picnic. My dad had a big smile and dug in. It was the last time I saw him truly happy. After that we figured his next move would be a nursing home or possibly a hospice. It was not meant to be. I won’t miss Red Lobster but I still miss him.

random nyc thoughts

I visited New York City for the first time. Here are random thoughts. The subway is cleaner and people are friendlier than I expected. Times Square is insane. I saw rats (Rats are extremely rare here in Alberta), people smoking crack, and one incident of road rage. The pizza is as good as people say. Katz’s Deli is fabulous. There’s nothing left of the old Greenwich Village. MoMa and the Metropolitan Museum of Art are two of the great museums of the world. The High Line – a park on an old, elevated train line – is a great idea. Walking across the Brooklyn Bridge is for people who like crowds. NYC is for people who like crowds. The scale of the city can’t be described; it must be experienced. I plan to go back.

... then all hail broke loose.

Monday, August 7, 2023 at the Canmore Folk Festival was, for the most part, the perfect day. It was 20-ish Celsius (70 F), morning until evening. Relatively cool and comfortable, a nice change from the heat we've been having. Prime outdoor music-enjoyment weather. The forecast said there was a chance of thunderstorms, but it appeared we dodged a bullet. However, when you have a music festival in the middle of the Canadian Rocky Mountains, anything can happen. And it did at about 8 PM. That's hail by the way, not snow.  Photo credit – David Q

piano farewell

This really hit home – a CBC story about what to do with old pianos. Last year we gave away my late mum's prized possession. The instrument was one of few luxuries she allowed herself. She played, and my brother and I took lessons. My elderly parents left it behind when they downsized. We bought an electric and my mother’s sat unused. When it was time to move, taking it to our new house was out of the question, so we put it online for free. Even at zero dollars, it wasn’t an easy sell. After a lot of messages and phone calls a guy took it for his mother-in-law to play religious songs. As he left, he handed me some fundamentalist nonsense which I was happy to take because he took the piano. There's no lesson here really. There will still be a market for high end pianos in concert halls and such but, when it comes to people's living rooms, technology rules. By the way, I checked today. There are about two dozen free pianos listed on Facebook Marketplace in my hometown of Calgary.

pint-sized tv star

I was a TV star when I was in grade five, or at least I thought I was. I appeared on a local after-school kids’ show called “Wynne’s Pad.” This memory came flooding back as I flipped through a stack of old vinyl and stumbled on this LP. Records usually invoke nostalgia for classic rock but this time it was vintage television –when local stations produced shows for kids during lunchtime and after school. Other examples in Calgary, Canada include Colonel Loonar, Rocket 4 Club and the Buckshot Show. Wynne Hanson was a Calgary TV host, a teenager who sang and played guitar. Very cool to a kid like me. My 15 seconds of fame came when he took his mic from kid to kid, and we said hi to our friends. I guess Hanson moved to Edmonton, put out a record and had a regular gig at a motel. It seems his TV show was his brush with fame too.

monty python visits canada

I’m not sure how this survived. In fact, it barely survived. It’s a poster from 1973. A very young group of comedians from Great Britain had a new TV show - Monty Python’s Flying Circus. It aired on the BBC and was picked up by the CBC. The group decided to tour Canada, including Calgary. I‘m not sure how I got the poster. I know I did NOT go see the show. God knows I wish I had. I found this rolled up in a tube in our basement. The edges are torn. I looked into restoring it but couldn’t find anybody locally to do it. I finally decided to frame it “as is” and it’s on display. Note the price of tickets.

leon russell - master of space and time

When it comes to music, I am Pavlov’s dog. I recently listened to the audio book biography of Leon Russell then ran out and bought records. I even bought some I already own that are buried in my storage locker. I didn’t own this one until now. It isn’t that valuable but sure was hard to find. Dug it out of a bargain bin in a used record store. The first record I bought as a kid with my own money was Joe Cocker Mad Dogs and Englishmen. Russell was the tour’s music director and was accused of hijacking the tour to launch his own career. The book says he didn’t, but he pretty much did. Russell became a star, and he put out some great records. And later, not so great. Russell spent money as fast as he made it. Also, sex and food were big issues and drugs. Quite surprised he made it to 74. This copy of Russell’s debut album is in rough shape. It’s a place holder until I can get a better copy.

ghost walk

My daily dog walk takes me along a path and through this arch. This is the walkway next to busy Crowchild Trail, a Calgary freeway, an unlikely place that is steeped in personal memories. There used to be houses here, specifically the one where I spent my early childhood. My parents brought me home from the hospital to a grey stuccoed house that stood here. My arrival completed the family of four - mum, dad, my older brother, plus me. Now I’m the last one standing. When I walk here, I am greeted by ghosts and memories: playing in the backyard, learning to ride my Mustang bike, packing up our ’55 Pontiac for a rare family holiday, and sitting at the kitchen table while my parents hear the news of my uncle and cousin’s death in a car accident. After many decades living elsewhere in Canada and in another part of town, we bought a house four blocks away. After all these years, I never expected to return to this neighbourhood. It’s bittersweet.

a little bit kinky (friedman)

God bless Kinky Friedman. I hadn’t thought about Kinky for years until recently when I was flipping through discs at a local record store and happened upon his debut album “Sold American.” The cover was a little rough, but the vinyl was great – SOLD. As a kid I remember being impressed with his band’s name - the Texas Jewboys. A Texan with “that” heritage just had to have a sense of humour. He was a bit too country for my taste back then but today, it really hits the spot. His name occasionally pops up in the news like when he ran for governor – placed fourth out of six. He’s also a best selling mystery novelist. Check out his website bio which explains his appeal to “MAGA-hatted Tea Party animals as well as pansexual Marxist vegans.” Googling him also turned up his love of animals; he’s a founder of the Utopia Animal Rescue Ranch. What’s not to love?

my little margie

Meet my old friend Margie. She was a gift from my Uncle Max to my family shortly after my older brother was born in 1952. She is made of pressed steel by a British company called MOBO, and as you can see, she is in remarkable condition for a 70 year old toy. Here’s why. Even though she is rideable, she was off limits to me and my brother. Our house had hardwood floors. We had tenants living downstairs. Our parents said Margie would make too much noise that would annoy them so, “no riding Margie, ever.” She sat in the corner of our bedroom. We moved when my brother and I were teens, and Margie was stored in our basement, until now. My son and I recently brought Margie to our new home. Nobody in the house is little enough to ride her but she is proudly on display as an antique in honour of my late brother, mother, and father. The name Margie, by the way, is from a song from the 1920s made popular by Eddie Cantor.

take my stuff, please

My apologies to the Women In Need Society (WINS), a not for profit organization in Calgary that runs a number of thrift stores. My mea culpa is born of dozens of black plastic bags and laundry baskets filled with stuff dropped off because of my family’s recent move. There were piles – throw out, donate, and keep, and much second guessing. “Will anybody really want this? Put it in the “donate” and let them decide.” I’m sorry to the volunteers if we inspired eye rolling as you pulled out the stuff. I’m not sorry if you put a $1.00 price tag on the nick knack and then made a buck on the deal to support your good work. By the way, we may be moved in, but the unpacking continues, and donating will continue for a while. And I suspect, so will the eye rolling.

moving violation

Moving sucks. That could be the entire blog entry. We sold one house and bought another. I understand that is a privilege few can afford but moving is still a horrible experience. My realtor says moving is the third most stressful event behind divorce and death of a loved one. I agree. For one thing, there was all the stuff to dispose of. We had way too much, including possessions of my long-departed parents and grandparents. As well as filling two industrial garbage bins, we had antiques– two 60s TV sets, a non-working hi-fi and a piano. Nobody wants pianos. There was also a 1940s era gas stove buried in the back of the basement. It now sits in the garage of my new house. I didn’t have the heart to trash it. This move is done. I’d do it again, or I could just stick sharp spikes in my eyes.

early simpsons binge

I was a TV binge-watcher before it was cool. It was 1990. I was in Bangkok staying with a friend who worked for the Canadian Foreign Service. He and his coworkers exchanged VHS tapes of TV shows from home. I was nursing a cold. I spent the day in his flat, drinking tea and watching tapes. I pulled out one labelled The Simpsons. “A cartoon? What the hell is this?”  Plugged it in and watched, alternating between nose blowing and laughing hysterically. I was hooked. The other day, my 20-year-old and I were talking about how media consumption has changed. When I was a kid, shows were weekly. You gathered around at broadcast time. Now, we stream one or more seasons in one go. Then I remembered The Simpsons and how I was ahead of the curve with my first TV binge experience.

canadian guns

We were visiting the USA from Canada, hanging with family for the holidays. My brother-in-law was on the couch drinking his morning coffee and watching TV. I sat down and saw it was a National Rifle Association (NRA) infomercial. There was dramatic video. A huge magnet grabbed piles of guns, dropping them into a crusher. “This is Canada where the government takes away your guns,” the announcer ominously warned. “It could happen here.” I asked my brother-in-law “Do you believe this?” He shrugged. “You know you can own guns in Canada, right? They don’t do that.” Shrugged again. He and his sons are hunters and safe gun owners. When I returned home, I checked in with my Canadian buddy, also a hunter and gun collector.. “If your brother-in-law comes to Canada for a hunting trip, call me. Tell me what gun he likes and I’ll get it for him.”

eight tracks bad

April 11 is National Eight Track Tape Day. I’m not sure who declared this, or why, but it is. You can’t make this stuff up. I had a couple of cars that had players. There’s no way around it; they sucked. If you ever had one you know. When they worked, the tracks would change mid-song and spoil the music and the mood. When they failed, you’d find a pile of tape spaghetti pouring out with little or no chance of repair. The technology all but disappeared by the late 70s, replaced by the more reasonable cassette tape. These days eight tracks are treasured by people who have cars from the era, by people who are completist collectors of bands, and wacky collectors who should have more sense.

dan hicks & his hot licks

The late Howard Hesseman wasn’t a radio deejay, but he played one on TV – on 70s-80s sitcom WKRP in Cincinnati. Turns out Dr. Johnny Fever had quite a record collection in real life. It’s for sale on ebay. While scrolling through I noticed he and I have similar taste which brings me to Dan Hicks & his Hot Licks. Hesseman’s estate is selling Where’s the Money, a Hicks album I recently rediscovered that perfectly captures the band’s oddball jump rhythm energy, with signature vocals from the Lickettes. I first encountered their peculiar mish mash of jazz, cowboy folk, swing, infused with oddball comedy, when I was a teen. How Can I Miss You When You Won’t Go Away is a favourite. Hicks broke up the band just as they gained some success. He died in 2016 and their music has faded into obscurity. Too bad. You can stream them on Spotify. You can also find their LPs and CDs cheap at your local record shop. .       

gridlock at the border

Trucks blocking the Ambassador Bridge in Windsor Ontario Canada are giving me déjà vu. Seeing gridlock at the busiest crossing at the Canada U.S. border takes me back to the aftermath of September 11, 2001. I was a radio reporter for the CBC, reporting on a closed border. There was a good reason for the shut down. Everybody was scared, especially on the U.S. side. Nobody knew what was going to happen next. Hundreds, maybe thousands of truckers were inconvenienced. They parked on the road and lived in their cabs for days. I interviewed some. Frustration but no complaints. Everybody pitched in in 2001. In 2022 it’s the opposite. The only reason for this traffic jam is inconvenience for the majority and economic mayhem for Canada.   

rosco gordon - no dark in america

I bought this vinyl yesterday - No Dark In America. When it comes to graphic art, it's one of the best covers I've seen in a long time. Freakin' beautiful, suitable for framing, but I won't. I am all for vinyl, CDs, downloads and streaming to get all the music all the time, but vinyl still wins for cover art. Also, I only just learned about the late Rosco Gordon, a Memphis blues singer who died almost 20 years ago. Time to dig into his discography. Back to the format. Not only did this come as two discs -- the songs are spread over four sides to maximize audio quality -- it also came with a download card to rip onto my phone. Kudos to Dualtone Records for doing it right.

my evening walk

I went for my long evening walk for the first time in a while. It was a good time to check out what’s new in the ‘hood. I grew up here, the Altadore -Riverpark area of south Calgary, Canada, now lumped in with the Marda Loop shopping district. Two blocks away from my house, there used to be a Texaco gas station and a corner store. I’d buy penny candy in the shop when I was little and smokes when I was a teenager. They’re gone. Now there's a real estate agency and trendy coffee shop where the gas station and store used to be. And, very soon, a shiny new, friendly neighbourhood cannabis shop. I'm sure I was quite stoned several times when I walked into the corner store in my high school days. If you told me back then, they'd open a marijuana store there someday I would have been gobsmacked. Truth is, I haven't touched the stuff in years.

my brush with bob

Bob Saget

Bob Saget was one of my brushes with fame. While attending university in Windsor, Ontario, Canada in the 70s I used to escape to Toronto to hang out with friends. We’d hit the comedy clubs like Yuk Yuks to see up and comers like Howie Mandel and Bob Saget. I loved Bob. He was hilarious and self-deprecating. One time we went to a small club to see him. After his set, to our surprise, he came over to sit with us. I'm sure we told him he was great, and we were there to see him. He was cordial. As he got more famous on the funny video show and Full House, I remember thinking, good for him. He's a nice guy who’s getting rich but, frankly, he was funnier as a stand up. I know his comedy got blue. That’s fine. I'm no prude, and trust me, he was hilarious back in the day too.