Gravenhurst's "Free Stuff For Daily Needs" Hosted Christmas Give Away; CBC Took My Hockey Away

"FREE STUFF FOR DAILY NEEDS" FILLING A GAP WITH KINDNESS, RESPECT AND UNDERSTANDING - AND OH YES, PROVISIONS FOR THOSE IN NEED

THERESA AND BARRY BUKER - OUT IN THE SNOW, AND COLD TO HOST THEIR ANNUAL "CHRISTMAS GIVE-AWAY" IN GRAVENHURST

     I SUPPOSE, ALL THINGS CONSIDERED, IT COULD HAVE BEEN COLDER. WITH SNOW FALLING! THE ICE ON THE BIRD BATH COULD HAVE BEEN THICKER. THE FROST ON THE WINDSHIELD OF THE VAN, TAKING A LITTLE LONGER TO DEFROST. BEING HONEST WITH OURSELVES, EVEN HERE IN MUSKOKA, PREPARED FOR WINTER THE DAY AFTER THANKSGIVING, THIS WAS A SIGNIFICANTLY COLD START TO NOVEMBER. I DON'T KNOW WHAT IF MEANS WHEN NOVEMBER COMES IN LIKE A RAGING BULL, BUT I HOPE IT HAS THE DEPARTURE OF A PUSSYCAT. IT WAS NOT THE BEST DAY FOR HOSTING A GIVE-AWAY EVENT, AS A PRE-CHRISTMAS GIFT, TO THE CITIZENS OF OUR REGION. WHEN ASKED IF THE HARSH CONDITIONS, WERE SLOWING THEM DOWN, THE BUKERS, IN UNISON, SAID, "NOT REALLY. THE WORK HAS TO GET DONE, SO WE KEEP MOVING AND EVENTUALLY FORGET ABOUT HOW COLD IT IS." EVEN IF IT HAD BEEN SNOWING AND BLOWING, THEY CONFESS, IT WOULD HAVE BEEN THE PERFECT BACKDROP FOR A CHRISTMAS GIVE-AWAY.
     BARRY AND THERESA BUKER WERE UP BEFORE THE BIRDS, SATURDAY MORNING, AND WITH A FEW HARDY VOLUNTEERS, THEIR FRIENDS, THEY HAD MOST OF THEIR ANNUAL "CHRISTMAS GIVE-AWAY" SET UP, ON THE DRIVEWAY AND SPRAWLING ACROSS THE UPPER YARD OF THEIR MUSKOKA BEACH ROAD PROPERTY, HOURS BEFORE MOST OF US GOT UP TO GREET A NEW MONTH. IF YOU LIVE IN SOUTH MUSKOKA, YOU MAY HAVE HEARD OF, OR READ ABOUT, THEIR CHRISTIAN MINISTRY OUTREACH, KNOWN AS "FREE STUFF FOR DAILY NEEDS." THROUGHOUT THE YEAR, THEY OFFER THOSE CITIZEN IN NEED, "ITEMS, SUCH AS DISHES, POTS, PANS, COUCHES, KITCHEN TABLES, CHAIRS, COFFEE MAKERS, TELEVISIONS, COFFEE TABLES, LAMPS, DRESSERS, LINENS, CURTAINS, UTENSILS, AND A LOT OF OTHER USEABLE "STUFF," FOR THOSE ON A TIGHT BUDGET, OR NO BUDGET AT ALL. IN EARLY NOVEMBER, EACH YEAR, THEY PUT-ON A HUGE GIVE-AWAY EVENT, AS A CHRISTMAS SEASON ACT OF GOODWILL, AND IT DRAWS HUNDREDS OF FOLKS WHO HAVE BEEN COMING TO THE EVENT FOR YEARS. THERE ARE MANY FOLKS ATTRACTED TO THE CHRISTMAS ACT OF CHARITY, NOT JUST THOSE FACING LEAN TIMES. THE BUKERS OPEN UP THE EVENT TO ALL COMERS, AND DESPITE THERE BEING NO PRICES ATTACHED TO ANY OF THE THOUSANDS OF ITEMS, THERE ARE THOSE IN ATTENDANCE, SO APPRECIATIVE OF THEIR COMMUNITY INITIATIVE FOR THE LESS FORTUNATE, THAT DONATIONS ARE MADE REGARDLESS. IT'S ALSO LIKELY, THAT THOSE IN ATTENDANCE, WILL ONE DAY DOWN THE ROAD, OFFER THE BUKERS SOME FURNITURE OR OTHER HOUSEHOLD ITEMS, AS DONATIONS, AS A RETURN KINDNESS.
     WE HAVE KNOWN THE BUKERS PERSONALLY, FOR ONLY A FEW YEARS, BUT WE'VE BEEN GOING TO THEIR EVENTS FOR MUCH LONGER. THEY RAISE FUNDS FROM YARD SALES IN THE SUMMER MONTHS, TO HELP THEIR MINISTRY, WHICH IN TURN, HELPS THOSE WHO ARE IN GREAT NEED OF HOUSEHOLD MATERIALS, FROM POTS AND PANS, TO SOFAS AND CHAIRS. THEY REGRET THEY CAN'T DO MORE, BUT OUTSIDE OF SOME VOLUNTEERS TODAY, THEY DO THE BULK OF THE WORK THEMSELVES, WHICH BY THE WAY, IS HEAVY, UNPREDICTABLE DEPENDING ON WHERE THEY HAVE TO TRAVEL TO PICK UP DONATIONS, AND THE DAYS ARE LONG. VERY LONG. BARRY IS ALWAYS IN ABOUT THE SAME POSITION AT THESE EVENTS, ON EACH OCCASION, AND THAT'S AS THE OFFICIAL GREETER, AT THE ENTRANCE TO THE DRIVEWAY, WHERE HE SAYS HELLO TO EVERY SINGLE PERSON WHO ARRIVES FOR THE GIVE-AWAY OR, IN SEASON, THE FAMOUS BUKER YARD SALES, THAT, WELL, COME CLOSE TO SHUTTING DOWN THE MAIN ROAD BECAUSE OF ATTENDCE. THAT'S HOW POPULAR THE DRIVEWAY EVENTS ARE, AND HOW MUCH FOLKS AROUND HERE, LIKE BARRY AND THERESA'S ZEAL FOR HOSTING GOOD HUMOURED GATHERINGS, WITH INTERESTING PIECES UP FOR GRABS.
     I TALKED TO BOTH BARRY AND THERESA YESTERDAY, ABOUT HOW PREPARATIONS WERE GOING, AND WHAT I SAW WAS A PLEASING CONTENTMENT IN THE SPARKLE OF THEIR EYES, BECAUSE THEY'RE DOING SOMETHING THEY LOVE. THEY GET A LOT OUT OF WATCHING FOLKS, PACKING UP BAGS OF FREE CLOTHING, AND CHRISTMAS ORNAMENTS, AND EVEN AN ARRAY OF ARTIFICIAL TREES, ALL THE WHILE, CAROLS ARE BEING PLAYED FROM SPEAKERS IN THE YARD. I ASKED THEM IF THEY WERE CONCERNED ABOUT THE WARNING OF IMMINENT SNOW, AND A MUCH COLDER TEMPERATURE FOR THEIR SATURDAY EVENT, AND THEY LOOKED AT EACH OTHER, THEN BACK AT ME, WITH RESPECTIVE SHOULDER SHRUGS, THAT IT IS WHAT IT IS! I WANTED TO THEN ASK THEM, IF THERE WAS ANYTHING ENVIRONMENTAL, SHORT OF A FULL BLOWN HURRICANE OR TORNADO, THAT WOULD INFLUENCE THEM TO CANCEL THE EVENT. BUT SEEING AS THIS WASN'T ON THE RADAR, SUFFICE TO SAY, IT WOULD TAKE SOMETHING PRETTY ROUGH TO THWART THIS GRAVENHURST COUPLE FROM FULFILLING, WHAT THEY BELIEVE IS THEIR CHRISTIAN RESPONSIBILITY TO ASSIST THEIR FELLOW MAN AND WOMAN.
     I ASKED BARRY THIS MORNING, HOW HE WAS FARING WITH THE COLD, AND THE FACT HE HAD BEEN UP SINCE 4:30 A.M. "I JUST KEEP MOVING AND YOU DON'T NOTICE AFTER AWHILE." I ASKED THERESA THE SAME THING, A FEW MINUTE LATER, NOTICING SHE WAS WEARING A LIGHT SWEATER IN THE BITTER COLD. "I JUST KEEP WORKING AND IT DOESN'T BOTHER ME." I WAS GOING TO ASK THEM WHETHER THEY WERE EXHAUSTED, AFTER SO MUCH WORK EVEN BEFORE I HAD CONSUMED MY FIRST COFFEE AT HEARTHSIDE. BUT THEN I THOUGHT, BEFORE I ASKED, WHAT A STUPID QUESTION THAT WOULD BE; OF COURSE THEY'RE EXHAUSTED. BUT HAPPY EXHAUSTED, BECAUSE THEY REALLY DO ENJOY MEETING ALL THE PEOPLE WHO TURN OUT, AND THEY TALK TO EVERYONE WHO HAS ANY INTEREST IN CONVERSATION. THEY TALK WHILE THEY WALK, UNLOAD BOXES, AND HELP FOLKS OUT WITH THEIR COLLECTIONS OF GOODIES. IT'S HEART WARMING, REALLY, TO SEE THIS DUO IN ACTION, SHOWING SO MUCH ONGOING CONCERN ABOUT THOSE IN THE COMMUNITY, WHO HAVE WANTS AND NEEDS, BUT VERY FEW OTHER OPTIONS TO HAVE THEM FULFILLED.
     I HAVE MANY CASUAL CHATS WITH THE BUKERS ABOUT THEIR WORK TO HELP THE LESS FORTUNATE, AND I'M ALWAYS IMPRESSED BY THEIR NEVER-SAY-NEVER ATTITUDE; AND IT MEANS THEY WON'T GIVE UP TRYING TO HELP A CLIENT, OR GETTING THEM POINTED IN THE RIGHT DIRECTION FOR ADDITIONAL ASSISTANCE, EVEN IF IT MEANS THEY WON'T GET THAT SECOND CUP OF COFFEE IN THE MORNING, OR HAVING THEIR DINNER GO COLD, BECAUSE SOMEONE JUST ARRIVED IN THEIR DRIVEWAY LOOKING FOR SOMETHING OR OTHER. AS FOR TURNING FOLKS AWAY? IT WOULD BE A RARE OCCASION IF THEY DID.
     BY THEIR OWN ADMISSION, RESPECTIVELY, THEY'VE BOTH HAD OBSTACLES TO OVERCOME FROM THEIR YOUNGER DAYS, AND THEY'VE SEEN UP CLOSE, AND WITH CONSIDERABLE COMPASSION, HOW IT'S POSSIBLE TO, AS THEY SAY, "FALL THROUGH THE CRACKS," AND GET LOST IN A COMPLICATED SYSTEM OF SOCIAL WELFARE. IT MAY SEEM A SIMPLE PROCESS, TO GET ASSISTANCE, BUT THERE ARE A LOT OF HOOPS. WITH BARRY AND THERESA, THE QUESTIONS ARE FEW, AND ARE MOSTLY THE KIND OF INQUIRY, SEEKING TO KNOW THINGS LIKE, "HOW ARE YOU DOING WITH THE BABY," "HAVE YOU GOT A PERMANENT PLACE TO LIVE YET," "HOW ARE YOU COPING," AND "WHAT DO YOU NEED TODAY, THAT WE CAN HELP YOU WITH?" IF A CLIENT WANTS TO ADD MORE INFORMATION, THAT'S UP TO THEM. IF THEY PREFER TO KEEP IT ALL UNDER WRAPS, AND SHARE VERY LITTLE, THE BUKERS ARE HAPPY TO GET TO THE LAST QUESTION FIRST. "HOW CAN WE HELP YOU?" FOR SOMEONE, OR A FAMILY, TRYING TO START OVER AFTER A HOUSE FIRE, FOR EXAMPLE, OR SOMEHOW HAVING BEEN DISPLACED, BY NO FAULT OF THEIR OWN, HAVING THE BUKERS OPEN UP THEIR HOUSE, IN AN ATTEMPT TO OFFER ANY MATERIAL ASSISTANCE THEY CAN, IS A GENEROUS, AND KINDLY WAY TO BYPASS INITIAL AWKWARDNESS; OF NOT HAVING MONEY TO PURCHASE HOUSEHOLD PROVISIONS, BUT NOT BEING ASKED FOR ANY FINANCIAL CONTRIBUTION BY THE BUKERS. WE ALL WANT TO PAY OUR WAY. SOMETIMES HOWEVER, WE FIND OURSELVES NEEDING A HELPING HAND, AND FOR HUNDREDS, IF NOT THOUSANDS OF FORMER CLIENTS, THE BUKERS MADE THE EXPERIENCE OF ASKING FOR HELP, A LOT MORE PALATABLE; FOR THOSE ESPECIALLY WHO DISLIKE ACCEPTING CHARITY. MORE LIKE AN OUTREACHED HAND, AND A HARDY SHAKE, BEFORE AGREEING UPON THE BEST APPROACH TO GET OVER THOSE HURDLES LIFE HAS THROWN IN THEIR WAY. TRUTH BE KNOWN, THE BUKERS GET THEIR STRENGTH TO CARRY-ON THEIR SERVICE, EVERY TIME THEY HELP SOMEONE CLEAR THOSE HURDLES, AND THEN HEAR OF THE TURN-AROUNDS IN FORTUNE, THEY'VE HEPED INSPIRE.
     THERESA AND BARRY KNOW I'M A WRITER, AND RUN BOTH A COMMUNITY BLOG AND NEWSPAPER COLUMNS IN REGIONAL PUBLICATIONS. IN THE THREE YEARS WE'VE GOT TO KNOW EACH OTHER, THEY HAVE NEVER ONCE, ASKED ME TO PUT TOGETHER A PROMOTIONAL STORY FOR THEM. THEY WOULD HAVE THOUGHT THAT THIS WOULD BE AN IMPOSITION, AND HONESTLY, THEY DON'T LIKE TO ASK FOR FAVORS, EVEN THOUGH ON OCCASION, THEY COULD BENEFIT FROM EXTRA HANDS AND LEGS; TO PERFORM THE YEOMAN'S WORK OF CONSTANTLY LOADING AND UNLOADING BIG ITEMS, AND HUGE, OVERFLOWING BOXES OF DONATIONS. I WORRY ABOUT THEM, BECAUSE THEY'RE MORTAL AFTERALL, AND THE WORK IS BACK-BREAKING. I THINK THE FACT THEY ENJOY HELPING OTHERS, SO MUCH, COUNTERS SOMEWHAT THE PHYSICAL BURDENS THEY SHOULDER, DAY IN, DAY OUT. EVEN WHEN THEY'RE NOT WORKING, THEY'RE PLANNING FOR IT, AND TRYING TO FIGURE OUT THE BEST WAY OF HANDLING THE BEXT BIG CRUNCH OF DEMAND, AND SHIPPING AND HAULING FOR THE NEXT SIX DAYS STRETCH. THEN THERE IS THE STORAGE ISSUES THAT NEVER END. SUNDAY IS THEIR DAY TO REFRESH FAITH, AND RELAX ACHING MUSCLES.
     MAYBE THERESA AND BARRY WILL BE EMBARRASSED BY THIS LITTLE TRIBUTE PIECE, ACKNOWLEDGING THEIR HARD WORK ON BEHALF OF OUR COMMUNITY HERE IN SOUTH MUSKOKA. THEY DON'T ASK FOR MUCH THAT'S FOR SURE. YET, DESPITE THE FACT THEY WOULD NEVER ASK ME TO PEN SUCH A PIECE, BECAUSE THEY ARE MODEST AND HAPPY TO STAY THAT WAY, WHAT I SAW THIS MORNING, IN THE BITTER COLD, MADE EVERSO SHARPER BY THE NOVEMBER WIND, WAS A COMMUNITY APPRECIATION THAT REALLY SURPRISED ME. LONG BEFORE THEY WERE EVEN READY TO OPEN, FOLKS HAD BEGUN ARRIVING, AND BY NINE-THIRTY, I COUNTED SEVENTY-FIVE PEOPLE WANDERING THROUGH THEIR YARD, WITH FULL BAGS OF CLOTHING AND CHRISTMAS DECORATIONS, BOOKS, VIDEO CASSETTES, BOWLS, TRAYS, UTENSILS, SHEETS, BEDSPREADS, LAMPS AND EVEN SOME SKIS AND POLES, FOR THE COMING WINTER SEASON. OH YES, AND THERE WERE SKATES FOR YOUNG AND OLD. ALL FREE. WHAT HAD BEEN GIVEN TO THEM, AND HAULED HOME BY THE TRUCKLOAD, WAS BEING GENEROUSLY EXTENDED TO ALL THEIR FRIENDS IN AND AROUND GRAVENHURST. I THINK WHAT IMPRESSED ME THE MOST, WAS THE WAY BARRY AND THERESA, NO FOOLING, MADE EVERYONE WHO ATTENDED, FEEL PART OF SOMETHING FESTIVE IN THE SPIRIT OF GOODWILL. FROM FOUR IN THE MORNING, TO THE SUPPER OUR, THEY WILL HAVE WORKED (ALONGSIDE VOLUNTEERS) IN THE COLD FOR ALL THOSE HOURS, AND HAD TO GATHER UP ALL THE MATERIALS THAT WEREN'T TAKEN BY VISITORS, AND AS THEY OFTEN DO, SET UP A LITTLE ROADSIDE "FREE" PILE IF THE WEATHER PERMITS; TO EXTEND THE GIVE-AWAY EVEN LONGER, AND POSSIBLY INTO TOMORROW. I SENSE, WHEN THEY FINALLY PULL UP A CHAIR AT THE KITCHEN TABLE, THEY WILL FEEL CONTENTED, BEYONG THE PHYSICAL EXHAUSTION, THAT SO MANY PEOPLE HAD COME TO TAKE ADVANTAGE OF THEIR LITTLE EVENT; AND THAT SO MUCH OF WHAT THEY HAD RESCUED, FOR A "SECOND TIME AROUND," HAD BEEN TAKEN AWAY BY EQUALLY HAPPY PEOPLE, WHO FELT A LITTLE CHRISTMAS CHEER, VERY EARLY IN THE SEASON.
     THERE ARE TIMES IN OUR COMMUNITY, WHEN WE GROW WEARY OF SEEING THE SOCIAL AND POLITICAL ELITE, ACTING OUT THEIR ASSUMED ROLES OF COMMUNITY LEADERSHIP; SUCH THAT WE CAN COME TO FORGET, THAT TRUE LEADERSHIP DOESN'T HINGE ON EITHER. THE REAL MEASURE, OF HOW A COMMUNITY IS FARING, ISN'T JUST A MATTER OF ECONOMIC PROGRESS, BECAUSE EVEN DURING OUR MOST PROGRESSIVE PERIODS, THERE HAVE BEEN THOSE SUFFERING QUIETLY, WITH FINANCIAL DISADVANTAGE. FROM AN HISTORIAN'S POINT OF VIEW, I WEIGH A COMMUNITY'S PROSPERITY IN A DIFFERENT WAY. CITIZENS HELPING CITIZENS GIVES ME A RUSH. THOSE WHO ARE WILLING TO SACRIFICE, TO MAKE SURE, THEY ARE NOT ONLY GOOD AND CARING NEIGHBORS, BUT KNOW THAT SOLUTIONS CAN BE LONG DRAWN-OUT AFFAIRS, WITH NO GUARANTEES AT THE END, ALL WILL BE WELL. YET BY THEIR VERY EFFORT, OF CARING FOR OTHERS, THE BUKERS CONTRIBUTE SO MUCH TO MAKING THE LESS FORTUNATE FEEL THEY'RE IN GOOD COMPANY IN A TRULY DYNAMIC HOME TOWN; WHERE IT'S TO BE EXPECTED, NEED ARISES AS A CONSTANT STREAM, REGARDLESS HOW MUCH WE TRY TO STEM ITS FLOW. IT IS THE PREMISE OF THE WELL KNOWN MOVIE, AND PLAY, "OUR TOWN." IT'S JUST NICE TO KNOW, THE BUKERS ARE OUT THERE, PERFORMING THEIR OWN DUE DILIGENCE, TO ASSIST THOSE WHO CAN'T HELP THEMSELVES.
      THANK YOU BARRY AND THERESA, FOR HELPING OUR COMMUNITY HELP ITSELF.
     For the first day of November, with trace amounts of snow on the ground, our music shop, studio and antique wing, here in uptown Gravenhurst, was busy all day; so much in fact, we had to keep reminding ourselves that it is officially the off-season here in Muskoka. We had visitors from Wales drop in, and from all over Ontario. Had some musicians in for a studio tour, from Regina, and they're going to be performing at St. James Anglican Church, tonight, as part of our Sessions Concert Series. I'll let you know more about how it went, in tomorrow's blog. This is a country and western night at the church, and tickets have been selling well throughout the day. It's great to be busy here, especially on a cold and blustery day like this. Lots of people visiting in the vicinity, and boy oh boy, that's great for the businesses of South Muskoka.
  
SOMEWHERE, SOMEHOW, I LOST INTEREST IN THAT GOOD OLD HOCKEY GAME - AND I FEEL BAD ABOUT IT!

     WHEN THE CBC CUT ITS JUICE OR WHATEVER IT FLICKED OFF, OR MOTH-BALLED, THAT DENIED US A SIGNAL, IT WAS THE LAST STRAW FOR ME AND HOCKEY. WE HAD A DIVORCE THRUST UPON US. I APPARENTLY, ACCORDING TO THE GRAPEVINE, WAS TOO CHEAP TO PAY, IN ORDER TO MAINTAIN OUR VIEWING RELATIONSHIP, WHICH FOR ME BEGAN IN EARLY CHILDHOOD. THE CBC AND THE HOCKEY CZARS, AND GOVERNMENT-TYPES, SAID I SHOULD PAY FOR THE RIGHT TO WATCH HOCKEY. I STILL FIND IT HARD TO BELIEVE, THAT WE CANADIANS, LET THE FEDS CUT-BACK THE CBC, SUCH THAT THEY COULDN'T AFFORD TO MAINTAIN A SIGNAL, HERE IN THE HEARTLAND. FOR THOSE OF US WHO REFUSE TO PAY FOR CABLE, WE HAD OUR VIEWING OPTIONS PARED DOWN TO ALMOST NOTHING. I GREW UP WITH THE CBC AND FOR MANY, MANY YEARS, MY ONLY CONDUIT TO HOCKEY NIGHT IN CANADA, WAS SIMPLE, LOW BUDGET, CBC RECEPTION. EVEN BACK TO THE DAYS WHEN I HAD TO MAN THE BUNNY EARS, SO MY MOTHER AND FATHER COULD ENJOY HALF DECENT RECEPTION FOR THOSE TRADITIONAL WINTER NIGHTS WATCHING HOCKEY. I GO AS FAR BACK, AS WHEN THE GAME COULD ONLY BE SHOWN AT THE END OF THE FIRST PERIOD, BECAUSE IT WAS BELIEVED, BY MAPLE LEAF MANAGEMENT, FOLKS WOULDN'T GO TO THE GARDENS IF THEY COULD WATCH THE WHOLE GAME FOR FREE. SO THEY WOULD ONLY BEGIN TELEVISING THE GAME, WITH ABOUT FIVE MINUTES LEFT GO IN THE FIRST PERIOD. THAT'S WHEN INTERMISSION INTERVIEWS WERE CONDUCTED BY WARD CORNELL. I LOVED WHAT IT DIDN'T HAVE. IT WAS PRETTY MUCH JUST HOCKEY WITH A FEW SUNDRY ENHANCEMENTS. ON SUNDAY NIGHTS, I TURNED TO MY LITTLE RCA TRANSISTOR RADIO, FOR THE ROAD GAMES. IF I PUT THE RADIO ON THE TOP OF THE RADIATOR, IN MY BEDROOM, I GOT A MUCH BETTER SIGNAL. I JUST HAD TO REMEMBER TO REMOVE IT BEFORE THE HEAT MELTED DOWN THE CASING. I WAS AS CLOSE TO A HOCKEY PUREST AS ONE COULD GET, WITHOUT ACTUALLY TURNING INTO A PUCK. REMEMBER HOWIE MEEKER AND PETER PUCK? WHAT ABOUT THE LEAF "HOCKEY TALKS," THAT WERE ON FLIMSY VINYL, IN PICTURE POUCHES, BACK IN THE DAYS OF THE ORIGINAL SIX? THIS SURE DATES ME. I WAS CHEERING FOR PLAYERS LIKE GEORGE ARMSTRONG, TIM HORTON, LARRY HILLMAN, FRANK MAHOVOLICH, JOHNNY BOWER AND TERRY SAWCHUK. REMEMBER DON SIMMONS AND THE 11-0 DRUBBING THE LEAFS GOT, FROM THE LAST PLACE BOSTON BRUINS? I STOPPED WATCHING THE LEAFS FOR ONE WEEK IN PROTEST.

     The other evening, and by the act of resident madness, I grabbed up one of the boys' old hockey sticks, from a bunch leaning against the side of the house. It just seemed so natural, because it's how I spent a large chunk of my life. Hockey stick in hand, waiting for a game to break out. With the rigors of business, our boys haven't played a game of shinny for about three years now. I got crazy the other night, when I felt a little chill coming on, and donned my Rink Rat hockey jersey. I forgot that it was one of the new kind, with a lot of pores to let the heat out during play, and not so great if you're trying to get warm. I had the jersey on, at the time I picked up the hockey stick, and for a few moments, it's quite true, I contemplated unleashing a slapshot into the side woodwork of my neigbour's house. Back in the early days of my kids' hockey experience, we'd occasionally let one rip, during a game of shinny on the sideyard ice rink, and by deflection, the flying rubber might have connected with the siding at the end of their house. I think these errant shots may have left a black mark, but nothing serious. I saw the guy's wife looking at it one day, and she turned to me, holding onto one of the sticks, but never connected the two situations. She probably did wonder why I was staring at her. I don't think she believed I could take a slapshot, as a hockey elder, anyway. I think the marks are still there, but we've got them on our house as well. On this occasion, I feel comfortable wearing the hockey sweater, like the sturdy grip of the hockey stick in my hands, but something, on that occasion, was gone. I probably could have slapped a few limestone shards toward the driveway, and made a few mock stick-dekes, as if flying down the ice past the opposition forwards, but the magic was clearly missing. What I had grown up with, as intimate to almost every waking moment of my life, had dissipated over the years of non-involvement. I gave up playing for The Herald-Gazette Rink Rats, the team I helped found in the early 1980's, shortly after we moved to Gravenhurst in 1989. I didn't give it up for physical reasons, but because we couldn't afford the gas, to and from Bracebridge, every Wednesday night; and then get the car towed when it would suddenly cease to operate, sometimes shutting itself off at sixty miles per hour. Yup, it would just switch off, as if it was tired of my company, and leave me stranded on the highway, or whatever country road I was traveling; to the point, playing hockey from eleven to midnight, was no longer recreational and or, calming.
     I loved watching hockey, but we don't have, or even want, cable television. We just wanted our CBC signal, for whatever games they televised during the winter months. I didn't think it was much to ask for, as a Canadian citizen. We still get CTV but all that means, is that we get NFL Football on Sunday afternoons. Which is alright, but I generally only ever watch the Superbowl in late January. I'm kind of a "one-game a year" football follower. There was a day, by golly, when I was so excited about football, especially the CFL, that for big games, I used to sit outside in a lawn chair, and watch the game through the front window; to recreate the occasions when I travelled with former Toronto Argonaut, Dave Whiteside, to the club's home games, then held at Exhibition Stadium, as part of his "Magical Mystery Tour," bus adventures in the fall of the year. I loved those trips via Hammonds Bus Lines. After the trips ended, I was still crazy about re-creating the experience, so I'd get a cooler of pop, (beer), and some red hots (hot dogs), and Suzanne would laugh at me through four quarters of playoff football, trying to re-create a part of my life, gone forever. Shivering and trying to part my lips, to take a drink of frozen ale. So it wasn't just hockey that faded for me. I haven't watched a Grey Cup game since the early nineties. I went from sports fanatic, to sports pacifist, in big part because most of the sports I adore, require me to pay for the privilege. I got spoiled by the good old days. I'm thankful this is how I grew up; my mother and father used to splurge, with our modest means, to make up a Kraft Pizza, from the boxed kit, and Ed loved kielasa and a seafood sauce for dipping, along with some slices of real cheddar cheese. Oh, yes, those Hostess Chips and French Onion Dip. And we got to listen to either Bill Hewitt, calling the Leaf Game, or Danny Gallivan, if it was from the Montreal Forum. I grew up on Hockey Night in Canada. It was part of my recreational, cultural upbringing. Now, when I wear a Rink Rat hockey sweater, and have my hand on a hockey stick, with a few projectiles to slap around, in the upper driveway, I find myself strangely void of enthusiasm.  This is odd to me, an old sports fan, because I've never been in a hockey mood, even casually, that I haven't wanted to hit the five hole in some imaginary net. But I know it had a lot to do with those changes in tradition. It was one thing, to hang up my skates, because my knees and hips were wearing out, but quite another, to end my fanship for hockey, as a result of a lost signal; one by the way, that for years, I could achieve by wiggling the rabbit ears on our old black and white telly, and with a little livingroom ballet, bring in a picture that was a whopping twenty-five percent static free. By the way, I could catch the play by play in the reflection from the glass in one of my mother's pictures over the sofa. I replayed every one of those games, when the Hunt's Hill gang got together the next day, and played three or four games of road hockey, in front of our apartment; that snow-covered stretch of Alice Street, under the lamplight, and bordered so beautifully by the snow-covered evergreens in Bamford's Woods. Merle used to invite the lads up for a cup of hot chocolate, as long as they didn't muck up her floor, of spill anything. I'm told that when they were clearing out the trees, to build a low cost housing complex, they found several hundred pucks and dozens of soggy tennis balls from those same good old days, which we had "bushed" but never found. We'd lose them in the winter season, deep in the snow, and then forget about them in the spring.
     How many others, with similar backgrounds, of having dutifully watched Hockey Night in Canada, for decades, (as if we'd be considered traitors, not to be tuned-in), are now popping-in movie discs on Saturday nights instead? I contemplated earlier this fall season, if I might build another ice pad, this winter, for old time's sake. I think I might like to play a game of shinny again before the Reaper comes calling. But, somehow, the play by play I used to call, of Keon, Pulford, back to Baun, intercepted by Gordie Howe, a shot turned away by Bower, just wouldn't be the same. I have a hard time these days, naming three Leafs, let alone players on any other teams. I've got a collapsible shed on the sidelot, where I used to ice a rink for the boys, decades ago, so it would all hinge on me clearing it out, and packing it up for the winter season. I don't think I'm going to do this, but I'm kind of pleased as a sort of consolation, about wanting to wear the hockey sweater once again. Truthfully, I stopped wearing it after I quit the team. I received an honorary Rink Rat membership, a few years later, and was presented a new sweater with my name printed on the back. Ed Kowalsky, Harry Ranger and I were the honored guests at a Loveable Losers Hockey Tournament, and we all got personalized sweaters. One of the boys started wearing that, and never gave it back. My Rink Rat jacket went the same way, and is in a closet I'm currently unfamiliar. Maybe this is a budding sign, a sort of later life, recreational harbinger, that I just might resume an interest in hockey, if my other hobby, grabbing stamps with tiny tweezers, and then looking at them through a magnifying glass, should wear thin on my patience. I still like the sound of a well snapped frozen rubber puck, when it hits the boards of a cavernous old arena, like the ones we used to have in Muskoka; those natural ice palaces that were colder inside, than outdoors. Ah, the hot stove league chats, that were actually in front of a real wood stove, with a red hot stove pipe to singe the skin.
     It's time to wrap up the blog for the day. I'm off to review the concert tonight with Zackarey Lucky and mates, at the Anglican Church, and the turn around time is a tad short. Thanks for joining me today. You folks made a cold, bleak day in November, a nice, warm, community embrace. See you again soon.