ho ho holidays
After years as a non-celebrator, 2020 may be my first real Christmas. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve always had a relationship with the holidays, even though it’s not my heritage. As a kid, I’d race to my best friend’s house on Christmas morning to help him play with his toys. As a grownup, I loved the parties at my workplaces, and I always volunteered to work Christmas so my coworkers could spend time with their families. For the first time, this year, I may embrace Christmas on a personal level. Not religiously, because it’s not my religion, but after a year of hardship, hate and strife, I’m ready for tidings of peace, comfort and joy.
estate sale
Everybody who shops estate sales hopes for an Antiques Roadshow moment. That’s when something inexpensive turns out to be valuable. It happened to me when I joined my coworkers for an estate sale on our lunch break. There wasn’t much that interested me, so I sat down while they kept looking. Next to my chair, a rack of two-dollar records. I flipped and it was the usual stuff – Nana Mouskouri, etc. Then, paydirt. Three 10-inch records. I knew that one was seriously collectable. I bought them because, well, $6.00. They are: Yodelingly Yours Jimmie Rodgers, Volume 1, Greek Folksongs, Irma Kolassi, Marches of the World, The Vienna Symphony Orchestra, Conductor Richard Stolz. The Rodgers is valued at $100+.
mike duffy
Before Duff was a Canadian senator, he was a TV reporter. He and I were among the journalists in Jasper, Alberta covering Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau. The PM was meeting with farm leaders discussing grain shipping. Very contentious at the time. We were waiting in a room for the farm leaders. They trickled in. I noticed one standing alone. An important fellow who the other reporters hadn’t noticed. I walked over and started interviewing him. Suddenly somebody grabbed my arm from behind and yanked it, hard; the arm with the hand holding my microphone. It was Duffy. My mic displayed call letters of my radio station. It was in his shot so he assaulted me. Mike Duffy is a jerk. I fought the urge to smack him back.
covid cash
Open your wallet. How much cash is there? I have one $5 bill. Just that for weeks. My wife says she can’t remember the last time she withdrew cash from an ATM. Debit card and buying online means no need for bills and coins. I did some googling to investigate this as a trend and found facts I didn’t expect. A Bank of Canada Cash and COVID-19 study says, when the pandemic hit, demand for bills increased. Reasons? Reduction of deposits from retailers to the banks and increase in consumer demand. But, that was then. Is it different now? It is in my wallet. The survey says people still want cash but they may find a change when they survey again in early ’21.
trudeau on a train
I was on a train with Pierre Trudeau. CN big shots were showing him railway tracks in Northern Alberta, twinned to allow increased grain shipments. This was a really big deal for Western Canada in the 80s. I was among the reporters along for the rail ride. We were bored. There was nothing to do until the end of the line and the upcoming photo op and scrum with the PM. We were drinking coffee and snacking. Nature called. I walked to the bathroom. Was it occupied? Free? The indicator was broken so I couldn’t tell, so I jiggled the handle. Up jumped security. “The Prime Minister is in there.” I jumped back. I saw nothing but to this day the image of Trudeau on the toilet is seared in my brain.
life changing LP
Listening to Talking Heads: 77 was a life changing experience. I remember the day it happened. It was my first day as a college radio deejay at CJAM at U of Windsor. I arrived from CJSW, U of C radio. My first shift I was handed a record. “This time of day we play a full LP; this is the one.” I was miffed. I was used to choosing my own music to play. Punk was new. Spitting, safety pins and outrage weren’t my taste, yet. New wave was in its infancy. I dropped the needle. Psycho Killer. Quirky weird nervous energy. Holy crap this is good. It all started making sense.
memories
It’s funny what triggers memories. My friend, comedian John Wing wrote an obituary for Norm Crosby. My family used to watch Crosby on Sullivan. That triggered a memory of my uncle Archie Eisenstadt who resembled Crosby, or so I thought as a kid. It made him a celebrity in my eyes. He was deaf. I remember watching him and my aunt Virginia cut a rug on the dance floor at bar mitzvahs. I asked my mum “How can Uncle Archie be such a great dancer if he can’t hear the music?” “He feels the vibrations through the floor.” I haven’t thought about Archie in years. Thanks John. Rest in peace Norm and Archie.
powerful lesson
I learned an important, first-hand lesson about politics and power as a young radio reporter in Swift Current, Saskatchewan, Canada. The provincial government released a budget. The finance minister, on a media tour, showed up in a big black Caddy with an entourage. I was intimidated. Fast forward a few months. He lost his seat and went back to teaching high school. Same election, Roy Romanow lost his seat to a 23-year-old gas station attendant. I met him and we discussed the loss. He eventually regained a seat and led his party to serve as Premier of Sask. from 1991 to 2001. This is how a democracy works. Voters give political power and take it away. Everybody needs to remember this, presidents and everybody else.
ahead by a nose
In Canada or in the USA or anywhere, an election is not a horse race. No matter what is being reported online or on TV, nobody is ahead, nobody is behind. In the most recent U.S. election, the president was chosen when all the votes were in. Counting ballots happens, then the winner is determined. And of course, in this case, votes will be recounted and maybe contested in court. But the whole “who’s ahead” thing is moot. It’s a construct of the media. We would all be better off if they just said, "OK folks, the votes are in, we'll let you know in a couple days when we finish counting and we'll double check. Then you can start arguing." It's a pipedream but it's also quite true.
a couple of shmenges
Every time I see the late John Candy mentioned someplace, it triggers memories of my big brother Gary who died in 2000. We were not close growing up. He was four years older than me. Gary and I were always separated by life’s stages. High school when I was in junior high. Married when I entered university. But as grown ups we became best friends. While we had very different personalities, we had the same sense of humour. We loved SCTV, which brings me to Candy. If Candy and Eugene Levy ever needed a back up Shmenge Brothers, we were ready. We’d launch into the Shmenges, improvising at the drop of a hat, and we were good at it. We were Shmenges to the core! I still miss John Candy (1950 - 1994), but I miss my brother Gary Rosenbaum (1952 -2000) more.
Shmenge Brothers: — Happy Wanderers TV commercial Looking Back — Shmenge Brothers Want You To Vote — Schmenge Christmas Special — The Last Polka
o america
Most Americans don’t think about Canada but let’s pretend. “Hey Canadian, why are you so passionate about Trump being kicked out as president?” Here’s my list. 1) During our trade dispute he said Canada threatened U.S. national security. 2) He rolled back Obama era laws protecting LGBTQ+ people. My half American son is that. 3) He empowers white supremacists who threaten people of colour, refugees, and ethnic groups, 4) He’s a lying misogynist and adulterer. 5) Trump botched the response to COVID-19 putting our world’s health at risk. Like many of you I am looking forward to a time when news from south of the Canada/U.S. border is less nerve wracking.
33 and a third
I love vinyl records but it’s not an exclusive relationship, more polyamorous. As well as a massive LP collection, I have many CDs, as well as some cassettes and eight tracks buried in the basement. Also, a computer full of mp3s and Spotify. Eclectic is the best way to describe the collection. I cut my teeth on vinyl and it still has its charm. While prone to noise, it’s a wonderful platform for big, beautiful cover art. I also marvel at having a phone full of thousands of songs, my own private radio station. Want to make me happy? Vinyl with a download card, please.
guilty video
My teen started watching video gamers on YouTube. I mocked him for it. “You watch other people playing video games?” We know where this is going, right? I have acquired my own creepily similar guilty pleasure. I watch YouTubers unbox guitars. I live vicariously. One favourite is a grammatically challenged dude whose thing is Gibson guitars. He buys rare and expensive ones and then dismantles them on video as he discusses their inner workings down to tiny minutiae. He has an arrogance that only a snobby nerd can have. I am too old for this subculture, but I have been swept into it. I should be practicing.
Some YouTube guitar channels I watch:
The Trogly’s Guitar Show — The JHS Show — Darrell Braun Guitar — samuraiguitarist — intheblues
mask up
It was mid-April, early COVID-19 days. Masks were not mandatory yet but starting to become a thing and hard to come by. Should we wear them? If so, when? I was about to leave the house and said out loud to nobody in particular, “Maybe we should get some masks.” A voice from the back of the house, my teen the cosplayer, “I have masks.” I say, “I know, that’s not what I’m talking about. He says, “Surgical masks, I have a box of them.” “What? Why? Where did you get them?” “I don’t remember.” We are still using that box of masks.
crash
It happened in slow motion. The Chrysler’s front-end sliced through my small Ford tin can. After that, it was a blur. Apparently my car spun around and slammed into a pole. The box of tapes by my elbow landed on the rear window ledge. Police said, if not for my seat belt, I would have landed there too. It happened decades ago at this Calgary intersection. It was a Yield sign then. The Chrysler was heading towards a gravel road, now paved, to the woods, now gone. Two couples in a hurry for what I’m guessing was a make out session. I go by there most days. I can’t not think about it.
mr. dressup
When I worked in radio, my dress style was best described as presentable. My go-to wardrobe was jeans and sweaters. Business attire wasn’t expected unless I was covering court or a public speaker. After moving to an office job, I upgraded my image. New wardrobe. Every day it was sports jackets, shirts, and ties. It wasn’t required, but it made me feel good. Working from home because of COVID and shedding 50 pounds means my upgraded wardrobe has been shelved indefinitely, and I’m running out of shelves. Nobody wants my suit jackets for consignment. Anybody want to buy some ties, cheap?
hard times
It started on Twitter. I was out for a walk, looked at my phone and saw a tweet from singer songwriter Stephen Fearing. He was consoling somebody who lost a loved one. “Sorry for your loss, “ he tweeted. “these are, indeed, hard times.” I texted Stephen. “You should round up some friends and record Stephen Foster’s Hard Times Come Again No More for charity. I have a friend who will produce a video for you.” Stephen texted back. “I’ve been thinking about doing something to help the Canadian music community,” A few months later, following many emails and file shares, here’s the result: Hard Times.
bald
Haircut day selfie with my teen
On an episode of Seinfeld, Elaine urges her boyfriend, a swimmer with a shaved head, to grow out his hair. It turns out he’s bald. That’s me, except I’m no swimmer and Elaine isn’t my girlfriend. A couple of years ago, I went for a summer hair cut. I asked for short. My barber misheard and put the clippers on the lowest setting and voila. Since then, shaved head has been my go-to coiffure. Bald has really come in handy during COVID. When I get a little shaggy, the clipper comes out and zip zip zip, no muss, no fuss.
the news
Is it possible to ignore the news? I used to think not. I grew up with daily newspapers and newscasts. Flash forward to my journalism degree and news became my life, first as a reporter in a small town, then a big city, then behind the scenes as a CBC Radio producer. I watched and read everything all the time. A career change made current affairs a smaller part of my world. I cancelled newspapers to lighten my blue box. Now social media keeps me informed, but I exercise tight control. I decide when to click and when to avoid. News is no longer a habit. This helps with my sanity.
repetition
The woman on the podcast referred to her father’s friend as “magical.” A lovely description. The second time she used the word describing somebody else, I thought “that’s sweet.” By the fourth and fifth time, everybody became “magical.” The word lost its energy and passion, its magic. On the cusp of the 90s when I lived in England, everything was “brilliant.” In North America, “awesome.” These days, “amazing.” All three are great words when used sparingly and purposefully. The rule, when writing, is not to repeat words. I’m not usually a fan of writing regulations but I like this one. This rule can and should be broken, but sparingly.