THE COMPUTER GLITCH …….. I WANT TO TOSS IT INTO THE TRASH
JUST A PREAMBLE TO TODAY'S BLOG. I HAVE NOW RESORTED BACK TO HANDWRITING MY BLOGS, AND THEN SIMPLY TYPING MY NOTES ONTO THE "APPLE" WE HAVE AT HOME. I HAVEN'T DONE THIS IN YEARS BUT AFTER LOSING THREE LENGTHY BLOGS THIS SUMMER, DUE TO TECHNICAL ISSUES, I DECIDED TO GO BACK TO THE GOOD OLD DAYS, UNTIL I CAN GET A HEAVY DUTY LAPTOP THAT DOESN'T MIND BEING PUNCHED ABOUT FOR TWO HOURS A DAY. THE COMPUTER IN MY OFFICE HERE AT BIRCH HOLLOW, KICKS BACK, AND BEGS FOR MORE ABUSE, AND FOLKS, I'VE DEMOLISHED HUGE MANUAL UNDERWOODS, AND SMITH CORONAS, AND ALL KINDS OF ELECTRIC TYPEWRITERS, MADE FOR THE DEMANDS OF THE OFFICE. ONE OFFICE SUPPLY CLERK, AFTER MANY RETURN TRIPS TO REPLACE WORD PROCESSORS, ASKED ME TO SIT DOWN, AND SHOW HER HOW I TYPED. SHE ASKED ME WHETHER OR NOT I WAS A MUSICIAN, WHO PLAYED THE ELECTRIC KEYBOARD (ORGAN). WHEN I SAID "NO, I'M MUSICALLY DYSFUNCTIONAL," SHE SAID WELL, "THEN DON'T TYPE LIKE YOU'RE PLAYING A CHURCH ORGAN. THE KEYBOARDS ONLY NEED A LIGHT TOUCH. YOU'RE POUNDING ON THE KEYS, AND THE STAFF (AT QUITE A DISTANCE AWAY), CAN HEAR YOU AS CLEAR AS IF THEY WERE STANDING BESIDE YOU. THEY SHOULDN'T BE ABLE TO HEAR YOU, HALF WAY ACROSS THE STORE. GET SOME ANGER MANAGEMENT."
IN THE LATE 1990'S, AFTER DESTROYING ABOUT A DOZEN TYPEWRITERS IN A DECADE, AND ALL KINDS OF ELECTRONIC TYPEWRITERS, AND WORD PROCESSORS, I RESORTED BACK TO A PAD OF PAPER AND A BUNCH OF BALL POINT PENS. ONE SUNDAY MORNING, I HEARD A SHREIK FROM THE LIVINGROOM. "MY HARVEST TABLE, MY BEAUTIFUL TABLE…..LOOK WHAT YOU'VE DONE," SUZANNE LAMENTED, DRAGGING ME BY THE ARM TO SEE THE END OF THE TABLE WHERE I SAT DAILY, TO PEN MY COLUMNS. "LOOK, YOU TOOL….., YOU'VE WRITTEN SO HARD ONTO THE PAPER, IT HAS GONE RIGHT THROUGH INTO THE PINE. YOU'VE ETCHED OUR HARVEST TABLE WITH YOUR COLUMNS." SHE WAS "WRITE." DO YOU KNOW, I ACTUALLY WROTE "WRITE" IN THE PREVIOUS SENTENCE INSTEAD OF "RIGHT." SEE, I'M LOSING MY MARBLES OVER THIS COMPUTER THING. BACK TO THE PINE TABLE-TOP, GEEZ, I'D BEEN PUSHING DOWN SO HARD ON THE PEN TIP, THAT IT HAD GONE THROUGH THREE OR FOUR SHEETS OF PAPER, AND INTO THE WOOD. I CHECKED THE BACKS OF OLD COLUMNS, AND IT WAS UNBELIEVABLE THAT FOUR SHEETS DOWN, YOU COULD FEEL THE PEN'S IMPRINT.
WHEN A READER EMAILED ME ONE DAY, AND ASKED WHY I USE UPPER CASE TYPE, TO BEGIN MY BLOGS, I COULD ONLY EXPLAIN, THAT IT WAS A CARRY OVER FROM MY EARLY DAYS AS A FRUSTRATED WRITER, GETTING ALL EMOTIONAL WITH EMPHASIS, AND BEATING THE HELL OUT OF MY SUCCESSION OF TYPEWRITERS, (I STILL OWN FOUR BROKEN ONES TO REMIND ME OF JUST HOW EMPHATIC I COULD GET), AND APPARENTLY, A HARVEST TABLE, THAT HAS NOW BEEN RELEGATED FOR DISPLAY PURPOSES ONLY, AT OUR NEW GRAVENHURST ANTIQUE SHOP. I COMMENTED TO SUZANNE THE OTHER DAY, THAT WE HAVE THE ONLY HARVEST TABLE THAT YOU CAN READ. SO THE STORY HERE, IS THAT I FRIED ANOTHER KEYBOARD, ON MY SON'S LAPTOP, AND HE DOESN'T WANT ME TO USE IT ANY MORE. IT WAS CONVENIENT WHILE I WAS WORKING AT THE SHOP, AND SON ROBERT WOULD PUT THE FINISHED COPY ON A MEMORY STICK, TO TRANSFER TO OUR MAIN COMPUTER AT HOME. NOW I'VE JUST GOT THIS BOOK OF NOTES I CAN'T READ, SO PLEASE BE PATIENT, WHILE I WORK MY WAY TROUGH THE QUAGMIRE OF WORDS THAT I'M NOT SURE OF, AND HAVE DEFINITELY SPELLED WRONG. TODAY'S BLOG LOOK'S LIKE A DRUNKEN SAILOR'S BREAKFAST. I HOPE IT DOESN'T READ LIKE THIS, BUT IT SURE LOOKS BAD ENOUGH. IF YOU WERE TO FEEL THE BACKS OF THE PAGES IN THIS SAME BOOK, THERE IT IS AGAIN……THE "RAGE OF THE WRITER," WHO HAS IMPRINTED THROUGH ABOUT EIGHT OF THE PAGES, WORKING ON ONE. NO WONDER WRITING GIVES ME A STIFF NECK.
NOTE ABOUT TODAY'S BLOG: I HAD TO DIG INTO MY ARCHIVES FOR ONE OF MY EXTRA COLUMNS, THAT WOULD BE SUITABLE FOR THE OCCASION. I GAVE UP TRYING TO DECIPHER THE NOTES. I'M GOING TO TRY HANDWRITING AGAIN TOMORROW, BECAUSE THEY TELL ME THE LAPTOP HAS GONE INTO A DEEP COMA, AND MAY NOT MAKE-IT. APPARENTLY, JUST BEFORE IT FELL INTO ITS DEEP SLEEP, IN ELECTRONIC LANGUAGE, THE TENDING TECHNICIAN HEARD IT SAY….."CURRIE, YOU BASTARD! YOU'VE KILLED ANOTHER ONE OF US!"
AS I AM VERY FRUGAL, I MAY HAVE TO MAKE LOTS OF PAPER NOTES IN THE FUTURE, SO I NEED TO GET SOME HELP WITH MY HANDWRITING…..AND SOME OF MY INHERENT ANGER ISSUES. OR AT LEAST, THAT'S WHAT EVERYONE IS TELLING ME. AND JUDGING BY THE FACT I'M STILL WORKING IN THE UPPER CASE, THEY MUST BE RIGHT. BUT I'LL TELL YOU ONE THING……WHILE I MIGHT ETCH EVERYTHING THAT I'M WORKING UPON, IN MY BID TO WRITE LIKE OUR FOREFATHERS AND MOTHERS DID, BY PEN, BUT BY GOLLY, THE POWER CAN FAIL ALL IT WANTS……AND AT THE END OF THE DAY, I'LL STILL HAVE THIS HARD COPY IN FRONT OF ME……….THAT I WON'T BE ABLE TO READ. BUT YOU GET THE POINT.
THE COMPUTER GOT ME THIS TIME. BUT THERE WILL BE NO SURRENDER. I SHALL WRITE, AND BE ABLE TO READ IT, ONCE AGAIN…….OR, SUZANNE SAID SHE'D DO IT FOR ME……IN ORDER TO SAVE OUR NEW DINING ROOM TABLE THAT I'VE BEEN WORKING AT THIS EVENING.
I CALL THAT PROGRESS AND INNOVATION…….ME BEING THE ROOT CAUSE OF HER CHAGRIN. WHAT THE HELL ARE OLD WRITERS GOOD FOR ANYWAY…..IF NOT TO CHALLENGE STATUS QUO?
FRANK JOHNSTON WAS ONE OF CANADA'S FINEST PRINT-MAKERS
GRAVENHURST SHOULD BE PROUD OF OUR CONNECTION
The blog I lost on the laptop, by the way, was about Frank Johnston. The notes in the book, in front of me now, are the re-writes, paragraph by paragraph from memory, of the blog in the nearly-deceased laptop, under the whiter sheet, in the service department of a local computer shop. So I'm going to cut to the chase here, and give this subject artist, a third try, in order to tell you…..and the good folks of Gravenhurst, that I have been in contact with members of the former Gravenhurst artist's family, in Picton, Ontario, and I have received initial approval, to commence research on his life and art…..which I have to tell you, makes this one of the most exciting biographical projects for me, in the past thirty five years in the often storm-filled profession. I have had a fascination about the work of Frank Johnston (Not the Group of Seven Artist) since my family began taking me to Sloans Restaurant for Sunday afternoon treats way back when…….and you know that had to have something to do with their famous blueberry pie…..which by the way is still being asked for, to this very day, by visitors to our shop, (because we answer all Gravenhurst historical inquiries) who used to go there as kids too. "What happened to Sloans," they ask, and "you mean there's no more blueberry pie. It was a Muskoka tradition for God's sake!" Well, in my day, and when our boys were youngsters, as we sat there with our pie and ice cream, we were looking up at those fascinating, huge, and colorful Frank Johnston watercolors, depicting Gravenhurst's steam era…..of steam boats and trains, and the opening of the Muskoka Lakes to tourists from all over the world. I wonder how many pairs of eyes, studied those beautiful art pieces, for all those years, that they graced the interior of that great pine trimmed restaurant……that was our living history. Well sir, I'm going to be re-living those days, when our historic wee town was being sketched and painted by one of Canada's well known heritage-proud artists……known well, by Canadian Group of Eleven Artist, Harold Town, as one of the finest print makers in the whole country. Town and Johnston worked together for quite a few years, and when they weren't print-making, they might have been out on Johnston's sailboat, the "Cara Mia," that used to dry-dock at the side of his Gravenhurst home. You can read about Town and Johnston, in the book, "Hot Breakfast For Sparrows," the biography written by Iris Nowell. There is a photograph, in the book, of Town and Johnston studying the printing press, during one of the art-runs, that often had both artists nearly coming to blows. Both men had considerable tempers, to go with their enormous talents.
The purpose of tonight's blog, is to yell-out from the roof-top here at Birch Hollow, how great and proud it will be for me, a humble scribe (who has no luck with keyboards) to rekindle the days when Frank Johnston ran his printing press in a quiet local neighborhood, and could be seen in the company of Hugh Clairmont, the other giant among the townsfolk of once, in a debate about hometown politics, or the national stuff that ruffled their respective feathers. I'm going to take a year to work on this hunting and gathering mission, to piece together a reliable, balanced biography of this talented, prolific artist, who lived amongst us…..and appreciated our local heritage, as if he had lived here forever. I want to ask those who knew Frank Johnston, or who own one of his prints or originals, to participate in this community project, to celebrate his many accomplishments. I want to know more about him. I think you can help me. And as I will be working from a small cubby hole, at the former Muskoka Theatre on Muskoka Road, now Andrew Currie's Music and Collectables, (and antiques), please feel free to drop in for a chat about Frank Johnston, and contribute to this important community history. I hope to be able to track down where the famous steamship paintings went, after Sloans ceased business operation. I have had information that they had been purchased by a retirement home in Huntsville. Any information in this regard would be enormously helpful.
Please join me again tomorrow, when I finally figure out what I wrote about the good Mr. Johnston today……that at present, looks as if a rooster had ink on his claws and did a little cocky jig on my notebook. But please know this……I don't get excited much these days, because I've done most of the really big stories here three times over, and I'm not permitted to stay out late, or go to parties that might get on the wild side……but I've got to tell you, this is a year I'm looking forward to, because of this rare opportunity, to work on a biography of an artist, I believe, was an exceptional Canadian…….a highly regarded artist, that we, to be honest, didn't really know as well as we should have. This is what I want to change. If you can help, I would be extremely grateful.
Sorry for the screw-up with electronics. It was so much simpler in the old days. We just painted pictures on rocks……and clubbed you on the head if you didn't laugh at the joke. Good day to you!
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