The Squamidian Report – May 8 / 04
For the ‘ON LINE’ version of this newsletter, go to:
http://www.members.shaw.ca/doug_b2/report.htm
Also in this issue:
Jennifer
North Nova News
An Animal Story
The Ontarion
Hi All,
Happy International Migratory Bird Day. I guess that really only affects you if you are a migratory bird of some sort. I know lots of people who are a bit flighty but that probably doesn’t count.
And speaking of birds, I had never seen a hummingbird perch on anything before we moved her. Back home all you ever got was a brief glimpse of one as it buzzed by. Here they are everywhere. And of course they have to land sometime to rest. They seem to like the very tip of a top branch on the small shrubs. One likes to sit on a little twig that sticks up beside one of our fence posts in the back yard. They look like a little leaf sitting there. When they call out it sounds like a tiny trumpet. They can also sound like tiny little sirens when they try to chase you away.
Something we get a kick out of doing is watching the tourists as they stop at the local Horton’s while passing through town. Nice and early on a weekend morning they will be heading north toward Whistler and the interior. In the evenings they will be headed back to the city. The ones heading south tend to look tired, warn out and in a hurry. The ones headed north are the funniest. If they are headed for the ski slopes they will be bundled up with hoods up and big boots on. Never mind the fact that everyone else is in T-shirts, enjoying the warm sunshine.
And there are the ones that stand in the middle of the parking lot, jaws open as they gawk at the surrounding scenery. Cameras will be out as they take shots of each other standing in front of the garbage bin with the Chief in the background, or Mnt. Garibaldi. What adds to the amusement is that I can clearly remember doing the same thing. I now know that we too looked like total dolts to the locals that were no doubt watching us a few years ago.
Then there are the tour busses that pull in, loaded with loud, rude, obnoxious site-seers. These groups push and shove their way up to the counter, pushing in front of anyone that was ahead of them. Then each person takes forever to decide which donut to have with their beverage and then they will want to pay by direct debit or Visa. This plus the caliber of person working behind the counter guarantees total chaos. If you were in that lineup you leave in disgust. If you were ahead of it, you sit back and watch the entertainment.
There are also the ones whose parents never taught them and manors or public deportment. They will remain standing at the counter, chewing on their muffin with their mouths open, taking up space while waiting for their companion to be served. Just adds to the confusion. Continued observation of this category often sees them returning to a beat up clunker of a car with a missing headlight, dragging muffler and rusted crinkled fenders that should not be on the road in the first place.
And then the very worst!! The usually over weight slob of a parent that sits its snot nosed little brat of a kid up onto the counter so it can pick out the donut with the most sprinkles or most chocolate or whatever. Who knows what vile bodily fluids are leaking out through said brat’s pants or where those sticky hands that are leaving smudges all over the counter have been.
As most of you have figured out by now, poor old Yogi enjoys his trips to Horton’s for his old fashion plain donut. He tends to get a bit pushy when he figures he is over due for his rightfully due treat. One evening this past week he had decided that it was time, after all he had been house bound all day while I was working. He lay on the floor looking at me, with that ‘boy are you ever dense’ look he gives. But I was too tired to take him out and I was limping a bit after turning an ankle on a loose rock so I ignored his request.
Next morning, about an hour before the alarm would normally go off I became aware of the fact that he was standing in the bedroom, looking at me. I asked him if he needed out for a wiz, he said no. I asked if he needed out for a dump, he ignored that question. So by then I was awake. Got up and got ready for work but it was not even time to get up yet. He would have to go out at some point so I asked him again if he needed out. He said no. Then, I asked him if he wanted to go for a donut and he just about pushed me down the stairs. He was frantic to go for a ride to Horton’s for his donut.
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I must apologize to Jennifer (Karin’s daughter in Melbourne) for not getting her article into last week’s newsletter. However, here it is for all to enjoy. doug
Life has been a bit drab of late describe in acute detail. I get up in the morning, get a very meagre dose of the (computer) ‘radiation’ that is necessary for my survival. Then I go to Tafe, putter around for the sake of some social activity and the hope of a qualification –I know this sounds negative, but I’m lacking “umph” these days- and of course for the sake of providing me with some motivation to do artwork that I otherwise wouldn’t have thought to attempt. –Magazines/ads/etc. Sometimes it’s good to be given a bit of direction, especially when one is young and easily distracted, hehe.
And then I go home, get another meagre dose of radiation and sleep for about 5/6 hours before starting the cycle again. Sound like fun?
Melbourne life has had a few drawbacks since I got back from DE, but that is to be expected, considering what I left there, and how I left it. If all goes to plan, I shall be heading back asap, pens blazing, armed with the knowledge I am FREE (and somewhat educated).
On the other hand, I have been trying to revoke the scathing review I gave of this city upon my return from Germany. The weather here is no longer hot and unpleasant (one thing I really can’t stand about this country is the hot weather) and the changing of the seasons has been most spectacular, in the sense that I enjoy the little things, like the way a wind blows, or certain smells that pass momentarily by, but evoke a tirade of memories nonetheless. I must also respect that some pretty awesome architectural structures exist here, and the sky rarely fails to impress me. I’ve also been enjoying the light with the onset of Fall. You all know that low-set sun that hangs up there, casting orange-gold light on everything, contrasting so beautifully with the sapphire blue of the sky. Very reminiscent of late Summer up North. I have been spending some peaceful afternoons in the Williamstown Botanical Gardens in the last week, just to regenerate. One needs to surround one’s self with lack-of-people every once in awhile, and take in the energy of all things GREEN. I miss that from my childhood on the Farm... hm. Verdelle Smith comes to mind...
I’ve been spending a lot of time looking up while passing through the city, so I have in my admiration of aforementioned buildings and skies, managed to be quietly ignorant of the garbage that litters the streets. Here are a few of my pet peeves, Greg –litterbugs! And people smoking on train stations. Cigarette butts make up an huge part of the litter found here. But I tell you what really irks me: the air conditioning on all the trains and buses. When one spends 3 hours per day on public transport, air conditioning drives me mad.
Of course, it could just be the enclosed space... I got the same restlessness when I was on the plane to Germany. After just 7 hours and waiting at Singapore, I was already yearning for fresh air (with 18 hours of travel ahead, mind you), and I didn’t care how cold it was when I got to Berlin (3-5 degrees, I think), I wanted unprocessed atmosphere so badly I would have gladly given everything I carried down to the last thread I wore to get it.
Thankfully for the public, I didn’t have to. It was just a great relief to immerse once again in a chilly environment. One that has not been possessed by the flames of Hades!! A real Winter! The cold makes me feel alive, and heat just makes me want to sleep. Also, it’s interesting how such experiences make one appreciate a basic need like breathing.
Ok, it seems that life isn’t so drab. I’m just tired. Tired because every weekend has been filled with homework or birthdays (April is the proverbial minefield) and there is a wedding coming up this weekend, so coupled with the work of the week, late nights and early starts, one becomes numbed. I just wonder if getting a job will be a step up or down from this.
It’ll all work out though, I just have to get some of my motivation back, and look at things a little differently. I think a lot of people could use that treatment too…
But on that note, I think I’ll close for tonite. I don’t want to show off my email-writing prowess too much <grin> thus I humbly bow to the next writer and leave you with some of Bill Watterson’s (sly) humour:
“The surest sign that intelligent life
exists elsewhere in the universe is that none of it has tried to contact us”
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North Nova News
Last week's report was terrific. I thoroughly enjoyed reading each and everyone's story. We spent the weekend at the Sports and Leisure Show held in the New Glasgow arena manning a booth for Sunshine Sailing, Jr.Sailing Program and the Pictou Yacht Club. The weather was so beautiful that many people did not attend and we had a lot of time on our hands. I had printed off the Squamidian early Saturday morning and took it with me to read at the show. It's great that so many of you took the time to contribute. Now you know it is not so hard.
It's lobster season now on the Northumberland shore. The boats had a great day last Friday to get out and set their traps. The rest of the weekend proved to be just as beautiful but the catches were very disappointing. Some say its the fault of hurricane Juan but everything gets blamed on the hurricane now. Others say the scallop draggers have caused the problem. I guess we will have to wait and see. Lobster season is a very important livelihood of many people here. Our ferries are up and running now too and that makes travel to and from Prince Edward Island much easier. It's a long trip via New Brunswick over the Confederation Bridge to P.E.I. and back. The ferry makes for a more relaxed and scenic trip.
I am going through some major changes in my business. My long time employee is leaving after 16 years! She has made me feel so comfortable all these years and now I have to put a great effort into finding the right person to replace her. My first thought was to downsize the business and work alone. But instead I am expanding. Today I hired an aesthetician. Her services include manicures, pedicures, facials, waxing, brow tinting and electrolysis. Our clients have been asking for these services and now we will be able to provide them. But I am still looking for a hairdresser. I also have to do some major changes to the shop to accommodate these new people. It should be interesting.
Thanks again for all your contributions, I learned so much more about all of you and feel so much closer.
Until next time,
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After reading
Sus’ story last week about the squirrel I started thinking that most of us
probably have an animal story or two to tell.
I thought I might share one of mine.
Some of you will have heard this tale so feel free to skip on to the
next article in Doug’s great publication.
We (the girls, my first husband & I) lived in the small northern town of Ear Falls (70 miles north of Dryden) for about 2 & ½ years in the 70s. Most people, including us, lived in trailers, which were set on large lots on regular town streets. We happened to be situated at the end of a street so there was nothing but hundreds of miles of bush to the left of us. There were no leash laws and dogs running wild were a danger and concern. Spring had finally arrived and I was busy doing whatever when I heard grunting noises on the front porch and thought the pesky dogs were into the garbage. I opened the door and instead of a dog discovered a bear on the porch. I shut the door saying something foolish to myself like “oh good, it’s not a dog”. It then hit me what I had seen so I opened the door again to make sure and stood there, face to face with my first bear. The bear finally started to make a move and it occurred to me that I ought to slam my door fast. Just about everyone on the street were new residents and the bears were a big deal at first. The bears would come in past our place on garbage day to raid for food and then drag their haul back to our porch and sit there while eating. I became so used to them that I would chase them off with my broom without a second thought. The town put a live bear trap on our side lawn for a while but all that was caught was dogs.
My brother-in-law, Harry came and stayed with us for a few months. He came home late one night and saw his first bear on our porch. He slept in the car (a Volkswagen bug) that night. When I woke up I chased the bear off with my trusty broom, much to Harry’s embarrassment. It is amazing how quickly one takes something for granted that is first viewed as extraordinary. I never did get used to the wolves that would surround my truck anytime I had the dyke run at work – but that is another story.
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THE ONTARION REPORT
MAY 8TH 2004
Once again we’re heading back in time!
Who among you used to spend many an evening at the local roller rink? Say “I”!
My first experience on non-sidewalk non-metalic boot style roller skates was at the tender age of 13. I was in grade 7 at the time and a friend of mine by the name of Wayne Schell talked me into going skating at the Kitchener Auditorium. I believe it cost 75c at the time if you rented skates and 50c if you had your own. I rented for the first several times we went and shortly decided that I’d prefer my own skates. I had saved my $3.00/week earnings and had about $75.00 in the bank. On a Saturday my dad took me to Mel Weber’s Sporting Goods on Queen St S to check out the skates. I actually worked in downtown Kitchener on Friday evenings and Saturdays for a Tailor Shop. I carried clothes back and forth to Morris Custom Tailor’s for several men’s shops to have alterations done. So I would spend my lunch hour in Mel Weber’s looking at the skates. So, I pretty much had the pair of skates I wanted picked out in advance. I remember paying $27.00 for them and at that time there was NO SALES TAX! They were black of course and my feet were already a size 11-E.
Man it was cool having your own “Roller Boots”! I stopped at the corner store on the way home and bought a bottle of white shoe polish. When I got home I proceeded to customize my skates by painting the white shoe polish around the edge of the sole and also up the back spine of the boot. I also had Mel Weber change the black laces to white. This way, everyone knew that you weren’t wearing “Rentals”. Only Dorks wore rental skates! I spent that first summer honing my skating skills. I actually became quite proficient at it. There were a couple of roller skating clubs in town that had their own jackets and skated real cool! I was a little too young to be in the league with these guys but was determined to be in one some day. After a couple of years, I hit high school and found that there were a lot of kids that liked to skate too. I got to know many of the skaters and we decided to form our own Club. We decided to call our club the “Tornado’s”. Guys like Terry Hein, Joe Doczi, Alec Doczi and Ian Kuntz and myself bought purple jackets and Joe designed a crest for the back. It was a whirling tornado with a roller skate in the middle and it said “Tornado’s” above the crest. Once again…..Very Cool! We skated at the Aud mostly but once in a while we’d head for the Waterloo Arena or Bingeman Park to skate. Bingeman’s had The Jolly Jester’s club and they were older guys.
There was no rough stuff but you had to be cool when on their turf. They actually thought their, excuse the expression “shit didn’t stink”! They were a bunch of jerks as far as I was concerned. They were conceited and mouthy at the time.
OOPS! I sure hope there aren’t any former Jolly Jester’s in the Squamidian readership??!!! If so, I apologize for my teenage observations now that I’m a mature adult! LOL!
After about 2 years the club dissolved and most of us went our separate ways to skate. I decided that the girls from school that came mostly from Westmount area and had daddies with money and great parties with open bars on weekends, skated at the Glenbriar Roller Rink in Waterloo and besides, that’s where all my buddies from KCI skated. So, it was on with the Madras shirts and Ingo sweaters and up to “The Briar” on Wednesdays, Fridays and Saturday nights. I think they also had skating on Sunday nights in the summer time. Of course the fact that Sonny’s Hamburger Joint was right next to The Briar was a bonus too. They always made and still do make the best hamburgers and fries in KW. After skating, we’d all head next door to Sonny’s for burgers and fights….oops….I mean “fries”.
Actually there was the occasional fight as well. Part of the excitement of hanging around a place like Sonny’s was to watch and occasionally take part in the action! It just so happened that I used to hang around with 3 of the toughest but best liked guys in KW at the time. So if the fighting ever came my way, I had protection or at least assistance if needed. Sonny’s was a fun place to spend an evening. The parking lot was divided in two by concrete bumpers. The south side of the lot was where the GREASERS parked and the north side was for the RB’s or less greasy persons so to speak. I’m sure you remember the term RB. Just a fun term, nothing nasty meant by it, even back then I’m sure. If you remember RB, I’m sure you know when and to whom it applied (usually the Westmount crowd). There were plenty of hot cars back in those days as well. We used to head up to what is now Country Squire Rd to race our cars. It was known as The Chicken Farm Road back then, simply because there was a chicken farm close to the corner of King and Country Squire. Actually, in the past year the city of Waterloo has extended Bridge St past Northfield and has joined it to what was Country Squire and renamed it Bridge St all the way out to King St N at the white old order Mennonite Church. But, if you’ve ever been on King Sts northern most end, you’ll know the old white church and road I’m talking about. After the races, when someone spotted the cops coming, we’d all split and head back to Sonny’s.
One of the most exciting events of an evening at Sonny’s was when someone lit the industrial garbage bin at the back of the parking lot on fire. What great fun to watch the big red truck with the lights and hoses on arrive to put the fire out. Little did I know that I’d soon be one of those guys spraying water and cursing the arsonist that popped the match into the bin. LOL! There was a cop by the name of Dwayne Talmadge who worked for the Waterloo Police in the mid 60’s. That was before the 3 cities when regional. He used to show up at Sonny’s a couple of times a night just check things out. One night he got out of his cruiser and went in the back door of Sonny’s for a few minutes. I don’t know if he was mooching a free burger or taking a leak but he came out to find the Garbage Bin on fire and his cruiser parked tight against the side of it. Unfortunately for him, he had left his keys in the cruiser and when he went to move it away from the fire, the keys were no longer in the ignition. Surprise! Surprise! Some little RB had taken the keys and tossed them into the garbage bin that was now at about 800 F. Man you should have seen Constable Talmadge dance around that night! Lucky for him the firefighters arrived in time to save the car from any great damage. He called the station and had them deliver a spare set of keys to Sonny’s and all that was damaged was Dwayne’s ego.
I must tell you that I attended many an emergency scene with
Constable Talmadge once I was on the Fire Dept. He turned out to be a good guy
and we had many a laugh over the Sonny’s antics of the 60’s. Unfortunately
Dwayne passed away from a heart attack and I was one of the firefighters to
respond to his residence when he died. We arrived at the same time as the
paramedics but Dwayne could not be saved. I’ll dedicate this story to the
memory of Dwayne. I’m sure he’s a regular reader of the Squamidian if they have
computers up “there”.
I still have the same roller skates and they still fit. Every once in a while I lace them on and take a spin up the road to see if I can still stay upright on them. I can!
Well, I hope this trip back in time has jogged some happy memories. Maybe Al will make another contribution of a trip down memory lane from his days in Wiarton. It’s been a major blast from the past for me just writing this week’s Ontarion. You can be sure there are loads more stories where this one came from.
Thanks for tuning in and I’ll talk to you all next week.
Bye
for now….. GREG.
Happiness is like a kiss…in order to get any good out of it, you have to give it to someone else.
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the
doug
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