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Issue #1009
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From Russ

The Ontarion

Hi All,

For me at least, this has been a very slow news week. Yes, we endured a totally useless and pointless election that accomplished nothing yet managed to put the federal government on hold for the last couple of months during a world wide pandemic. That alone should be a good indicator of our leadership and it’s mental capacity. Why not just dump 620 million dollars down the drain and call it a new plumbing program!

With nothing of use or interest happening, my mind tends to escape from the tight grip I like to keep it controlled by. On one of it’s little mental adventures it found itself going way back into the dark ages when I was in about grade 3 or so. In those days we started the school day by saying the ‘Lord’s Prayer’ and by singing ‘God Save The Queen’. Now here’s the thing that stuck in my head back then and in some ways still resides there….. Who the heck was Happy and who the heck was Gloria’? Right there is the song, from the perspective of a backward little kid, the words clearly said “long to rain over ya, Happy and Gloria….”. We had been clearly singing about the Queen and then all of a sudden there is this line about 2 unknown persons. And what’s with this ability to ‘rain’ all over ya? Was this perhaps a warning or an option being offered if ‘God’ didn’t ‘save’ the Queen? Why would someone with a name like ‘Happy’ pose some sort of meteorological threat? Was ‘Gloria’ her accomplice or the mastermind? Was the Queen in on it or was this going on without her knowledge? This whole thing was a mystery to me and probably shaped my thinking of the world around me for years. Bummer, I’m a victim of early childhood education.

Then there was the fact that even though we lived over a mile from the school, we had to go home for lunch, which was fine, Mom was a great cook. The teachers didn’t want any kids around to bother them during their lunch break. If we didn’t have a bike that worked, meaning air in the tires and a chain that wasn’t broken, we had to walk. No busses, no car waiting to pick us up. Didn’t matter what the weather was doing, didn’t matter if ‘Happy’ was making it ‘rain’ over us or not. Come the really bad weather and during the winters, we were permitted to stay at school for lunch but that meant sitting in the smelly gym, eating our soggy sandwiches and staying out of the way of any teacher. They didn’t like kids bothering them during their lunch break. I remember needing to talk to one of them about something or other although I don’t currently recall just what that was, during their lunch break, and knocking on the teacher’s room door, that in itself being a rather imposing prospect. That room was so full of cigarette smoke that I couldn’t see the actual people, just the dense cloud of smelly smoke. I do remember all those hostile eyes peering at me though the smoke as I timidly asked what I apparently needed to ask. It must have been important because nighter I our anyone else would have chanced bother them over some frivolous or unimportant thing.

Anyway, those bad weather lunches in the gym were way back before the invention of glad wrap etc. We had to wrap our sandwiches in waxed paper, which didn’t keep them dry if it were wet out because our lunches were carried in brown paper bags that soaked though the instant any rain or other source of wetness came within sight.. And, we had to save our waxed paper wrapping for to be used the next day, over and over for the full week. That was not a ‘throw-away’ society.

But those aren’t bad memories, they are just, well, memories. It was the way it was. And now I bring my mind back to the present and think about a dog up the street who’s name is Happy. Interestingly, she’s not a happy dog at all, in fact she is skittish and timid, but at least has no aspirations about making it rain on anyone.

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As promised, we’ve got another double-header for you musically inclined readers of this letter. Way way way back when Ian & Sylvia were a fresh young duo they came out with a song called ‘Tomorrow Is A Longtime’. Very folky, soft and easy which is good because that’s how everything I do comes out. As per usual, the audio version has multiple ‘me’ doing harmonies etc and the video version is just me and my guitar. Hope you like them.

Audio Version
Tomorrow Is A Longtime

Video Version
Tomorrow Is A Longtime

doug

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From Russ

The Honey Pail (contd.)

Last week we read the 'life's story' of Gladys Walmsley who had a sad beginning and even more sad ending. I had never before attempted to tell the deceased's side of a story in his/her own words.

To 'bring you up-to-speed', this is a story that first appeared in my book, Memoirs of a 50's Cop, and stands-out as it was only the second autopsy I attended as a young Constable - and the person had been dead for a week. The pathologist warned me not to breathe through my mouth, as the bad 'smell' would linger as a bad 'taste'. The very first autopsy I attended was done on a much younger 'victim' who died suddenly after eating some chocolate-coated peanuts. No smell. Clean lungs.

Gladys was victimized in many ways; born 'out-of-wedlock', sexually abused as a child by her drunken step-father; froze her feet, and had her big toes amputated, ran away from home, lived in loneliness, had cheating boyfriend, lost all contact with her family - nobody claimed her dead body.

(Gladys, the deceased, now continues with her story in her own words): I was living on a widow's pension, in a slum-landlord's one bedroom apartment, where I had to climb the stairs to use the only bathroom in the duplex. Not safe, or easy when you have lost your strength and balance because you don't have big toes! So, I got this old, metal pail that one day held honey, and kept it close by my bed on the first floor. My whole life was now confined to that one room - it was my bedroom, kitchen, living-room, and bath-room - and all my clothes and stuff was 'stuffed' into the one closet - so full and cluttered, you couldn't close the door. Mostly worthless junk except for my personal diary - which I hope nobody ever reads!

So, I got out of bed to pee. Naked. No lights on. Blinds drawn (because my room is only a few feet from the sidewalk, and anybody can easily see in). Only light is from a street-lamp across the road. It's the "twilight zone" in here, but I know where everything is. Don't need light. Must save power. I squat over the pail - lose my balance - kick my pee-pot - stumble forward - hit my chest against the kitchen table with that damned chrome trim. That hurt! Now, I fall backward - hitting my head on my pee-pot!! Trying to get up off the floor - grabbing bed-sheets. Everything goes black.......opening my eyes, I see myself lying there on the floor, blood flowing from the back of my head. Now I see nothing - feel nothing, but know everything going on around me! So, this is what death is - not all that bad - in fact, it's a new 'life' (if you'll excuse the expression).

"Time", a man-made idea, now means nothing to me. I don't know how long I was lying there, naked when I see my boy friend enter the room - take one look - advance toward my body, and quietly cover my privates. How Kind. How thoughtful. What? Now he's leaving? Why? Where is he off-to?

Next thing I see is my landlord - no doubt, come to collect the rent (which I pay weekly). He has a key - enters my bedroom, takes one look - jumps back in horror, and leaves. He fails to lock the door. Doesn't want anybody to know he was inside my apartment?

Next, a young constable, accompanied by the landlord, enters. Looks. Pauses. Departs in a hurry! Wow - this place is getting busy! Now two large men in suits amble into my tiny room, one leaves. Next, another man comes in - looks - grabs my hair, lifts my head, shows the detective the cut on the back of my head - drops it with a 'thud', and says.

"She's dead", and quickly departs. I later learn he's the Coroner when I hear the detective speaking.

"We got a murder here, boys!" Says the older man - Acting Chief of Police, Ewan Cameron. "Look for the murder weapon - maybe an axe, or machete". He departs, leaving just the 'dick' and the constable. The dick starts with the closet - grabbing - digging - rummaging, and throwing stuff out of the over-stuffed closet of mine! Crude Bastard!

Next 'player' to arrive is a man in plain clothes, carrying a flash-camera. He takes all the pictures you could imagine!

The young constable tells the others this was not a murder, but an "unfortunate accident"

WHAT?!! His account of the accident is not accepted.

"Please take the pail - I think this is what cut her neck - you can't see anything with the 'naked eye', but a microscopic view might reveal tiny particles of her hair, blood, or skin", suggests the constable. The Ident. officer takes the pail.

Note: Because we are experiencing frequent power outages, I must close this story now - will complete it next week when Gladys tells what its like to 'experience' one's own autopsy.

Uncle Russ.

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No one wanted this space :(

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THE ONTARION REPORT

Hello everyone!

It seems Summer is ending with a bang! With all the rain and heavy storms we’re having this week and in the week to come. We may be in for a lot more soaking during the coming month, if not early snow this year! If nothing else, I’ll blame it all on the recently elected Liberal Government! LOL! It wasn’t really a big surprise to see the Liberals get in once again but in my eyes, it was a disappointment! I think we should have given a different party a chance to take a kick at the cat! Oh well, we’ll just have to make do with what we have in power again and be glad they’ve only managed to garner a minority government again this time. At least there’s some say from the opposition and that keeps any government from just ramming whatever they want through parliament without anybody else’s say in the matter! Enough political rehashing for this week folks! It only cost us taxpayers $610,000.000.00 to keep the same party in power that we would have had without going though an election! Thanks PM Trudeau for the waste of our tax dollars!

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It’s too bad that all this rain didn’t fall in BC about a month ago to help quell the forest fires in that province! We haven’t heard much lately about those fires so I guess they must be pretty well out by this time of the year! The storms and tornado’s are wreaking more havoc on the country than the fires are these days I guess and there’s no way to combat them when they come along! The only bonus is that the storms that do so much damage give the contractors of various trades lots of work cleaning up after them and rebuilding the structures that were demolished due to the storm’s strength! I guess that’s one way of creating work for the people of Ontario! I see they’re advertising for Carpenters and other trades people to fill the need for new construction after the storm damage! Sort of Mother Nature’s way of helping our economy back on it’s feet after the Covid-19 disaster!

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It’s amazing how quickly fall is taking affect this month, have you noticed that the leaves are already changing colour? It won’t be long and we’ll all be raking our yards and stuffing those big brown bags to be set at curb side for pickup! I’m sure many of you in the upper age bracket will remember the days when we used to rake all the leaves to the curb edge of the streets and burn them in the fall! That smell of burning leaves used to permeate the air every fall when we were kids and nobody complained that folks were polluting the air back then! Many a day was spent by the kids in the 50’s and 60’s playing in the piles of leaves along the roadsides and in the local bush of different areas of the city! I know I remember playing in Breithaupt’s Bush in the North Ward and it was one of the best times of my youth indeed! We always had a fort built out of old lumber and tree branches somewhere in the middle of Breithaupt’s Bush! I could still take you to the very spot of our fort construction to this day. It was in a hollow not far off the twisty part of Union St that winds it’s way through that part of the bush that is beside the Breithaupt Community Centre! It wasn’t far from our home on Floyd St but to us when we were youngsters it seemed like miles away! We even had a favourite tree to climb on the edge of the bush and we called it The Tarzan Tree. For what reason, I don’t know but that was what we named it at the time! Just the thought of fall seems to bring back so many good memories from those days in the late 50’s and early 60’s when life was care free and so few serious responsibilities for kids to worry about! Life sure has a way of making things complicated these days! It’s hard to even guess why but to take a stab at it, I’d say it’s due to our city growing in size and population! So there is something to be said for small town living I guess!

That’s about all I have for this week folks!
Thanks for tuning in and I’ll look forward to talking to you all again next week in The Ontarion Report!

Bye for now… Greg

PS: Something To Think About>
Get that snow blower tuned up and ready for the onset of an early winter! ( According to the weather predictors of Ontario) We’re in for a doozie this year!

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Take Care And Be Safe
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The articles in these issues are the sole property of the persons writing them and should be respected as such.