Gravenhurst A Good Town To Write About

ROBERT BOYER GAVE ME THE ASSIGNMENT TO WRITE ABOUT MUSKOKA - SO I DID! AND LOVED EVERY MINUTE OF IT!

STILL DOING THE MUSKOKA / GRAVENHURST THING - NO SHORTAGE OF THINGS TO WRITE ABOUT

     WHEN I WROTE YESTERDAY, THAT I ACTIVELY PROMOTE GRAVENHURST, VIA THE REGULAR FEATURES I WRITE, FOR SEVERAL ONTARIO PUBLICATIONS, I MEANT IT.  THERE'S A GOOD REASON, AND I WANTED TO OFFER AN EXPLANATION. I WON'T DENY THAT I GET FRUSTRATED WITH OUR LOCAL COUNCIL, BUT I DO NOT DEFINE OUR TOWN BY ITS ELECTED REPRESENTATIVES. I DEFINE IT BY THE CITIZENRY, AND HOW HARD THEY HAVE ALWAYS WORKED, AND CONTINUE TO LABOR, TO CREATE A GOOD AND CARING COMMUNITY…..THAT LOOKS AFTER THE LESS FORTUNATE…….ALWAYS WILLING TO HELP-OUT IN THE EVENT OF SOME TRAGIC CIRCUMSTANCE, OR DISASTER. IT'S A GOOD NEIGHBOR TOWN. I WOULD, WITHOUT RESERVATION, RECOMMEND GRAVENHURST AS A WORTHY HOMETOWN, FOR ANYONE WHO SHARES THESE NEIGHBORHOOD VALUES. I HAVE FOUND PEACE HERE, AND SANCTUARY. OUR FAMILY HAS FOUND PROSPERITY IN BUSINESS, DESPITE WHAT SOME CRITICS ARGUE IS IMPOSSIBLE. WE HAVE ALWAYS INVITED THE NAYSAYERS TO VISIT, BUT THEY DON'T WANT TO BE PROVEN WRONG. SO HERE IS ANOTHER SHORT BIOGRAPHY, ABOUT WHAT CIRUCMSTANCES BROUGHT THE WRITER AND HIS FAMILY TO GRAVENHURST, BACK IN THE FALL OF 1989. 

     ROBERT BOYER AND HIS FATHER GEORGE, WERE TWO WELL KNOWN WRITER / HISTORIANS. I NEVER HAD THE OPPORTUNITY TO WORK WITH THE SENIOR MR. BOYER, BUT I'VE READ HIS HISTORICAL NOTES ON BRACEBRIDGE AND MUSKOKA. AS FOR HIS SON BOB, I'VE READ NINETY-FIVE PERCENT OF WHAT HE WROTE, IN BOOKS SUCH AS "A GOOD TOWN GREW HERE," A HISTORY OF BRACEBRIDGE, PUBLISHED IN 1975. I BECAME THE YOUNGEST NON-FAMILY MEMBER TO BECOME EDITOR OF THE FORMER HERALD-GAZETTE, IN THE EARLY 1980'S, AND NO ONE HAD TO TELL ME, THAT I COULD BECOME BETTER AT MY JOB, BY SADDLING UP TO BOB BOYER, WHO THEN, WAS EDITOR-IN-CHIEF OF HIS BABY, THE MUSKOKA SUN.

     BOB TAUGHT ME ABOUT THE PROTOCOLS OF BEING AN EDITOR. HE OFFERED ME ADVICE ON HOW TO REPRESENT THE COMPANY, IN THE COMMUNITY, AND HOW TO DEAL WITH LOCAL POLITICIANS, ESPECIALLY, MPP FRANK MILLER, AND MP STAN DARLING, BOTH OF THEM HIS CLOSE FRIENDS.  WHEN I SERVED MY APPRENTICESHIP IN THE NEWS BUSINESS, WITH THE MUSKOKA LAKES-GEORGIAN BAY BEACON, IT WAS MY WEEKEND PHOTO-GIGS, TO COMPANION BOTH MEN AROUND MUSKOKA, TO A WIDE ARRAY OF ANNIVERSARY AND BIRTHDAY PRESENTATIONS, AND TO DOZENS OF SPECIAL EVENTS, GRAND OPENINGS, AND PUBLIC MEETINGS. OF COURSE, ONCE BOB GOT A HOLD OF ME, AND BUFFED-OUT THE CRINKLES OF POOR PROTOCOL, I BECAME A BETTER PUBLIC RELATIONS AMBASSADOR FOR MUSKOKA PUBLICATIONS GENERALLY. WHAT MR. BOYER TAUGHT ME, AS A FORMER MPP HIMSELF, AND PAST CHAIRMAN OF ONTARIO HYDRO, WAS HOW TO HANDLE SITUATIONS IN A MORE DIGNIFIED MANNER. IN OTHER WORDS, NOT LIKE A REPORTER. NO BARGING IN, AND BARKING OUT QUESTIONS. AS EDITOR, THERE WAS A POLITE, RESPECTFUL WAY TO INTERVIEW PEOPLE, FOR ARTICLES, WITHOUT SOME OF THE TYPICAL ROUGH CARESS, PRACTICED BY HARD-NOSED REPORTERS, POUNDING THE BEAT FOR FRONT PAGERS.

    IF I WAS A DIAMOND IN THE ROUGH, AS A REPORTER, BOB MADE DAMN SURE I WAS GOING TO BE A CREDIT TO THE PUBLICATION AS ITS NEW EDITOR. I MIGHT HAVE REJECTED THE INTERVENTION FROM THOSE I DIDN'T RESPECT, BUT BOB KNEW WHAT HE WAS TALKING ABOUT. AS AN HISTORIAN, AND ON THE SAME HISTORICAL SOCIETY EXECUTIVE AS I WAS, NOTHING HE IMPRESSED UPON ME, AS MY NEW ROLE, WAS WITHOUT FIRST HAND EXPERIENCE. I WASN'T RUNNING A DAILY. THIS WAS A COMMUNITY WEEKLY, AND THERE WAS A DIFFERENCE. AT THE TIME, OF COURSE, WE WERE COMPETING AGAINST THE BRACEBRIDGE EXAMINER, A NEW PUBLICATION, AND THE CHALLENGE TO KEEP ADVERTISERS AND READERSHIP WAS RIDICULOUSLY DIFFICULT. I LISTENED TO BOB MORE THAN MY IMMEDIATE BOSS, AND IT WAS THE RIGHT CHOICE. BOB KNEW HIS HOMETOWN A LOT BETTER THAN I DID, AS I WAS STILL A RELATIVE NEWCOMER TO THE DISTRICT.

     AFTER SON ANDREW WAS BORN, AND I'D BEEN EDITOR LONG ENOUGH TO REALIZE I DIDN'T LIKE IT, I MADE AN IMPORTANT SWITCH, FROM MANAGEMENT OF THE HERALD-GAZETTE TO THE MUSKOKA SUN. AS MR. BOYER CARED ABOUT CONTENT AND QUANTITY OF EDITORIAL COPY, HE DIDN'T CARE THAT I WAS GOING TO BE WORKING FROM HOME, INSTEAD OF TAKING UP OFFICE SPACE AT THE DOMINION STREET BUILDING. I WAS ONLY DOWN THE STREET ANYWAY, AND I COULD BE AT THE OFFICE IN TEN MINUTES, IF THERE WAS A DISASTER MANIFESTING. I GOT TO STAY HOME WITH ANDREW, WHERE I COULD WRITE IN BETWEEN HIS FEEDINGS, AND SUZANNE WENT BACK TO HER TEACHING JOB AT BRACEBRIDGE AND MUSKOKA LAKES SECONDARY SCHOOL, JUST UP THE HILLSIDE. WHEN I WAS COMFORTABLE, BOB REALIZED, I PRODUCED A MUCH LARGER MASS OF COPY. I WAS FREE RANGE, I GUESS YOU MIGHT SAY.

     I didn't have it easy with Bob, as the second in command. I got the Assistant Editor's job, but he got to say things to me, like "Okay Ted, I need lots of copy for the holiday edition." Now the fact that Bob's daughter, was married to Suzanne's cousin, didn't help me much. As we were extended family, I think he worked me harder. The difference by this point, is that I was doing something that interested me, more than covering the news beat for The Herald-Gazette. I was writing historical features about Muskoka, measured by the pound. I was doing interviews with hundreds of Muskoka artists and crafts people, human interest stories, business profiles, and any other interview Bob thought would fit the readership of The Muskoka Sun. At the time, I was working in a reasonable environment, but it was more urban than I liked, and the traffic was non stop down Ontario Street, to Wellington. When Andrew began walking (running more like it), I didn't feel safe being so close to the road. We only had a tiny front yard, and he refused to stay in the back. When Suzanne was pregnant with Robert, we decided to move to a nice older bungalow on Muskoka Beach Road, a five minute walk to Bowyer's Beach. It was here that I wrote mountains of regional editorial copy, to fill the pages of The Muskoka Sun. Bob was pretty pleased when I'd pull into the office with a wheelbarrow load of copy for typesetting. I did all my work on portable typewriters. I went through a lot of ribbon in those Sun days. The typesetters, however, could be seen making the sign of the cross, when they saw me heading up Quebec Street with a special delivery.

     In those days, The Muskoka Sun was massive. I can remember the Civic Holiday edition, would push over 100 pages, and Bob never liked the ad count to get too high…..which meant that the paper would have been just over 60 percent ads, and the rest was up to writers and photographers at Muskoka Publications to fill. I've come across some writers recently, who think they've had a rough time putting  together a novel or a month's worth of blogs. When Bob would call me into his office, and he'd be in one of those cigar chomping moods, I knew as soon as I crossed the threshold of his office, my God, "We've got a big one coming don't we Bob." He'd lean back in his creaking old wood office chair, pull the stogy from the corner of his mouth (like you'd expect of an editor), and say with a twinkle of his eye, "We're going to need a lot of features for this week Ted. I trust you are going to be able to help me out." What this would mean, by the way, is that whatever I had already pre-written, over the winter months for the seasonal "Sun," would disappear like a thong on a sumo wrestler. It would mean I'd have to dig into my reserve stash of story ideas, and start making phone calls. The news of a big paper, usually came on the Monday afternoon, and press day for the Sun was on Wednesday. It was the "between a rock and a hard place" thing. I would have no life other than writing, until all the white space was filled. I wasn't the only one writing for the paper, but it sure as hell felt like it, during weeks that started off in this fashion. I had years of this horror of white space, working for one of the best known summer papers in Ontario. Thanks to Bob Boyer, its chief architect. You know, I worked hard for Bob because he appreciated the effort, and he never took credit for a good looking paper, without throwing a bouquet to the writing staff……and some fantastic photographers like Tim DuVernet, Harold Wright and John Black.

     What happened gradually, is that I began writing about every aspect of Muskoka I could think of, or had access to in my Muskoka collection of reference books. Living at Golden Beach, where my office looked out onto a pleasant forest scene, was certainly more conducive to creative enterprise, than looking out at the racing cars, heading down Ontario Street. I wrote so much copy, that it was embarrassing to see all my bylines. By my own choice, I started eliminating bylines on a lot of small feature projects, so it wouldn't appear as Ted Currie was a one man writing team. I actually started writing with many different styles, to make it appear these unsigned pieces had indeed been written by some other staffer. Suzanne always knew if I wrote a piece, she read in the paper, no matter how much I changed styles. The point of all of this, is that Bob Boyer was a task master, at a good time in my writing career. I had the greatest job on earth, and I was writing about people, places and things, that I was interested in…….and my youthful exuberance to earn a name for myself in the writing field was full to overflowing with enthusiasm. The fact that Bob made me work hard, and long, was perfect for the time. My bylined feature stories were in a lot of cottage sunrooms around the Muskoka Lakes, and I enjoyed the celebrity the exposure afforded Suzanne and I, back then. As a result, we got invited out a lot, and it was nice to be treated with respect as a local writer. Just as Bob had promised. Bob and I made quite a few appearances together, and both of us were very proud of The Muskoka Sun. At this time, The Muskokan, published by The Examiner, was giving us a run for the money.

     When we moved to Gravenhurst, after we found a much nicer property, and better house and yard for our two boys, I ended my relationship with Muskoka Publications. I would have worked for Mr. Boyer to eternity, but some management overseers had other ideas for me, and intervened with the suggestion, I would only be employed part-time in the future. I extended them the finger of no return, and offered my writing to other publications. In the mid 1990's, I was again given an opportunity to write for the Muskoka Advance, and The Muskoka Sun on my own dime, as a promotion of my own work, and from right here at Birch Hollow, I doubled my output from previous years. The difference really, was that I liked the digs here better, and the view from my office was even more inspiring than the one from my old office on Golden Beach Road, and much better than my tiny work space, with no window, on Bracebridge's Ontario Street.

     I extended the finger a couple more times, because I'd adopted a no-bullcrap-from-management policy, and found several other publications that were just happy to have me onboard. From Birch Hollow, in our hometown Gravenhurst, I have produced four regional books, all non-fiction, and contributed major feature stories to Muskoka Today, The Wayback Times (antiques), Curious; The Tourist Guide, and most recently, the Great North Arrow. Most of the feature articles use Gravenhurst as a stated backdrop, and of this, I'm very proud to represent the town that has inspired me to write like a machine. This modest little bungalow, that looks like a pioneer cabin in our urban-themed neighborhood, has proven a kindly haven to a weary old writer, who can still boast, after all these years, to being able to outpace and outperform the work I produced twenty-five years ago. I'm a little beat-up, having hovered over this keyboard for so many mortal hours, but the mind still works alright….if I can just keep these aching fingers hitting the keys. I'm a little bit slower these days, according to Suzanne, who comes into my office occasionally, to remind me that I've spent too long at work, without a break in the action. She may want to go to the garden centre for something more to plant. I'm a hobby gardener, so I'm always glad to tag-along. We only have a few inches of property left, that doesn't have something growing on it.

     As I've written about before in this blog, like the change of studio locations for an artist, I wasn't sure about the move to Gravenhurst. I wondered if it would provide me with what I needed, to be able to crank out copy the way I'd been able to in other locations. For awhile, until I found the right place to situate my desk, I couldn't seem to adjust properly. I'd just sit there. For a writer, this is the death knell. Hour after hour, staring at the horrible white page in the typewriter carriage. Taunting me. It was like a nagging, drawn-out scene from "The Lost Weekend," with Ray Milan. Even a stiff drink didn't make any difference. When I finally pulled up to a desk, overlooking The Bog, where I could open my window and smell the spring lilacs, and hear the rain on the raspberry canes, what was blocked, began to open up, and run free. I was home. On most writing jags, it would take only several moments before the first sentence was imprinted onto that same white paper, and the rest came as easily. Even now, with this amazingly bright computer screen, what could be a frightening light, should I have a moment's blockage, is quickly used up by new editorial content.

     A friend asked me one day why I refused to join any of the local writer's groups in the district. First of all, I don't write fiction. Secondly, I am highly superstitious, and as a former hockey goalie, yes, I could and have taken it to extremes. Like the number of times I had to hit the goalposts before a face-off, or the necessity to clear away my goal-crease of chipped ice, and snow, whether it was there or not. With writing, it is exactly the same, except I don't have folks trying to kill me with slapshots. I have a lot of rituals before I sit down to write, and just as many when it comes to places to stop for a break, and procedures for saving my copy. I am so superstitious, that I won't do any major computer fiddling myself, preferring to have my tech-support in our family, handle all my online publishing. They've all told me in their own ways, "You drive us nuts with your demands!" I have, I suppose, become Mr. Boyer, but I don't smoke cigars. As to belonging to a writer's circle….."I wouldn't belong to any group that would have a guy like me as a member." Woody Allen, from the movie, "Annie Hall."

     I love writing about Muskoka, and of course, about Gravenhurst. I know there are readers, who believe I'm particularly hard on the elected representatives of our community, and they are probably right. As I have always practiced a high standard of respect, for the region in which I live and work, (and I've got lots of corroborating evidence), if I sense less commitment, passion or a general malaise in our town, I won't be afraid to make it public. It may make me unpopular to some, but it really doesn't matter. I'm not in a popularity contest. Our last municipal election, unfortunately, was just that. When what was needed, was an elected council all-fired-up, to get on with the job. Maybe my impression of being "fired-up" is what's wrong here. I suppose you never know. The calm, gentle, status quo thing may work in time. Hope so.

     Writing from my home base in Gravenhurst, has and continues to be a pleasure.

     Thank you so much for joining today's blog. Please join me again soon.

     Watch for upcoming previews and reviews, of the 2012 season of "Concerts on the Barge," at Gull Lake. I hope you can all take advantage of this exciting new season, on a restored Barge…..and this is thanks to the Town of Gravenhurst. Help us celebrate the re-opening of a Gravenhurst landmark…..well, actually, a platform on pillars out in the lake.