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| The Wind Through The Snowy Wood Land Rob Currie Photo |
REFLECTING ON THE INNER MAYNARD G. KREBBS AND THE BEATNIK I NEVER WAS; THE COFFEE HOUSES WHERE I NEVER BEAT MY DRUM! THE JACK KEROUAC, ALLEN GINSBERG WISDOM I NEVER REVERED
I GREW UP WATCHING "THE MANY LOVES OF DOBIE GILLIS" BUT NEVER REALIZED IT SEEDED MY INNER BEATNIK - LISTENING TO "LOVE" TOOK ME BACK TO THOSE REGRETS OF MY OWN ULTRA CONSERVATISM
I'M BEING HONEST HERE. MY WIFE THINKS I FIB A LOT. SHOWING MY EMOTIONAL SIDE. I'M NOT AS TOUGH, AS MY BLOGS MIGHT OTHERWISE REFLECT. AS ONE MUNICIPAL COUNCILLOR CONFESSED, SOME TIME AGO, I COULD EASILY "BEST" HER IN A WAR OF WORDS, VERBAL OR WRITTEN. I THOUGHT THAT WAS NEAT. BUT I HAVE NO CHOICE OTHER THAN TO ADMIT, RATHER SHEEPISHLY, MY VULNERABILITY TO THE IMPACT OF UNFORTUNATE EVENTS, THAT LIKE MOST FOLKS, GOOD WITH WORDS OR NOT, USUALLY CONFOUND ME TO TEARS. I HAVE NOT BEEN ABLE TO LISTEN TO A CHRISTMAS CAROL WITHOUT GETTING MISTY EYED, SINCE OUR DOG BOSKO PASSED AWAY ON THE WEEKEND. I GET SAD HEARING THEM. I FEEL BAD ABOUT THIS BECAUSE I LOVE THIS TIME OF YEAR BECAUSE OF THE MUSIC. BUT MUSIC IS LIKE THAT FOR ME. EVEN TODAY, WHEN I HEAR "HAVE YOURSELF A MERRY LITTLE CHRISTMAS," I THINK OF THE BITTER, SNOWY WINTER EVENING I CAME HOME, AFTER BEING DUMPED BY MY THEN GIRLFRIEND, MARION. I THINK ABOUT MY FRIEND LINDA, WHENEVER I HEAR ELTON JOHN'S "CROCODILE ROCK." WE USED TO SKATE TO THAT MUSIC AT THE BRACEBRIDGE ARENA. "MIDNIGHT BLUE," A POPULAR VERSION OF A CLASSIC, WAS THE MUSIC I HEARD, ONE NIGHT IN THE LATE WINTER OF 1983, WHILE STAYING WITH A REPORTER FRIEND, IN TORONTO; LOOKING DOWN ON THE BUSY INTERSECTION OF BLOOR AND YONGE STREETS, WAS THE INSPIRATION TO ASK SUZANNE TO MARRY ME, AND WELL, THIS IS MY POINT. MUSIC IS PRETTY IMPORTANT TO US MORTALS, BUT WE OFTEN CONSIDER IT BACKGROUND TO EVERYTHING ELSE GOING ON, SOMEWHAT IGNORING JUST HOW IT MOVES US, VIA SENTIMENT, IN ALL KINDS OF DIRECTIONS.
WHEN I BEGAN WORKING IN MACTIER, AS A CUB REPORTER FOR THE MUSKOKA LAKES-GEORGIAN BAY BEACON, IN JANUARY, 1979, I WAS FRESH OFF A TRAUMATIC CHRISTMAS SEASON, HAVING BEEN GIVEN THE PROVERBIAL HEAVE-HO, BY MY GIRLFRIEND GAIL. THUS EVERY SONG I HEARD IN THE NEWSROOM, ON THE LITTLE RADIO HIGH ON A SHELF, BACK IN THE LAYOUT AREA OF THE OFFICE, REMINDED ME OF HER, AND THE FIVE WASTED YEARS OF MY LIFE. POSSIBLY YOU HAVE HAD SIMILAR MUSIC ASSOCIATIONS, BOTH PLEASANT AND LESS SO, RELATED TO A CURRENT EVENT, AND THE FACT YOU HAD A RADIO ON AT THE SAME TIME. I HAVE MANY DOZENS OF SONG ASSOCIATIONS, THAT REMIND ME OF PEOPLE I USED TO KNOW, SOCIALIZE WITH, AND EVEN DATE, IN ALL KINDS OF SOCIAL SITUATIONS. IT'S KIND OF UNFORTUNATE FOR THE PARTICULAR ARTIST, THAT WE MIGHT ASSOCIATE THEIR WONDERFUL MUSIC, WITH AN UNFORTUNATE OR EVEN TRAGIC EVENT. WHAT FOR EXAMPLE, WAS PLAYING ON THE RADIO, IF THERE WAS ANY MUSIC AT ALL, AT THE TIME YOU HEARD NEWS OF A LOVED ONE'S PASSING; ON THE OTHER HAND, THE JOY A SONG CREATED, IMMEDIATELY AFTER RECEIVING A CALL TO ANNOUNCE THE ARRIVAL OF A BABY IN THE FAMILY. WHEN I WATCH THE MOVIE "GETTYSBURG," I WANT TO DON A UNIFORM AND JOIN THE FREY. THERE'S SOMETHING WILDLY COMPELLING ABOUT A CAVALRY CHARGE AND A DRUMMER'S CADENCE, AND ALTHOUGH I AM A PACIFIST, MILITARY MUSIC MAKES ME AGGRESSIVE. YOU HAVE TO ADMIT, MUSIC HAS PLAYED A ROLE IN YOUR OWN LIFE, AND I'M WILLING TO BET, THAT YOU'VE EVEN MADE SIGNIFICANT DECISIONS, BASED, EVEN BY SUBLIMINAL ASSOCIATION, AS A RESULT OF SOME TYPE OF MUSICAL INTERVENTION. MUSIC CAN GIVES US COURAGE TO FACE A DAUNTING TASK, AND MAKE ONE A KINDER PERSON, EVEN WHEN TRYING TO BE THE OPPOSITE. EVERY TIME I HEAR THE SONG "BARBARA ALLEN," I AM REDUCED TO A BOWL FULL OF JELLY. IT IS THE MUSIC PERFORMED IN THE MOVIE, "A CHRISTMAS CAROL," WHEN SCROOGE, (ALASTAIR SIM), BEGINS HIS RECLAMATION, AFTER THE VISITS OF THE THREE SPIRITS, AND VISITS THE HOME OF HIS NEPHEW, FINDING THE DINNER GATHERING OF FRIENDS, ENJOYING THIS OLD SONG AT THE PIANO. WHEN I'VE NEEDED AN EXTRA BIT OF COURAGE, I WILL LISTEN TO NAZERETH'S "NOW YOU'RE MESSING WITH A SON OF A BITCH," WHICH I CONSIDER A SORT OF WRITER'S ANTHEM. HARD ROCK, LIKE AC /DC'S "THUNDER STRUCK," CAN EVEN GET ME TO BRAVE THE DENTIST. "GREAT BIG SEA'S" "CONSEQUENCE FREE," WILL EASE ME TO GET MY ANNUAL FLU SHOT. I CAN'T EXPLAIN IT BEYOND SAYING, I LIKE MUSIC BECAUSE IT MOVES ME!
WE ALL HAVE DIFFERENT REASONS FOR PAYING ATTENTION TO MUSIC.
I FELT, FOR A FEW FOGGY, THEN STUNNINGLY CLEAR MOMENTS OF SELF-ABSORBED CONTEMPLATION, AS IF I HAD SUDDENLY BEEN THAWED FROM A SORT OF SUSPENDED ANIMATION, OF A FORMER LIFE, AS IF A GALAXY YET TO BE DISCOVERED; ME BEING PULLED LIFELESS, VIOLENTLY, FROM ONE OF THE STACKED, HUMMING, CRYOGENIC CAPSULES, TO BE RE-ANIMATED AND RESTORED OF NEW HEART AND INSIGHTFUL VISION. A SOUL WITHIN EMERGING LIKE THE BLOSSOM OF A GNARLED OLD LILAC, TO MEET YET A SPARKLING SPRING LIGHT. A GENRE RE-INTRODUCED I THOUGHT LONG DEAD, AND I WAS SHOCKINGLY AWARE IT WAS THE 1960'S ALL OVER AGAIN. AN ERA WHERE MELANCHOLY DIDN'T EXIST FOR ME, IN THAT FORMER RUN OF TIME. WHERE EVEN THE FRIVOLOUS WAS POETIC AND SCHOLARLY, AS THE FIELDS OF WILDFLOWERS SMELLED OF SWEET LAVENDER AND SKY, AND SUN, RAINY DAYS AND WHEN BABBLING BROOKS FLOWING TO INFINITY, WERE THE POET'S ETHEREAL VENGANCE UPON THE IMPOSED SOCIETAL RIGORS, OF CONVENTION AND CONSERVATISM. THANKFULLY, I WASN'T DRESSED LIKE AUSTIN POWERS, WHEN I EMERGED FROM MY SELF IMPOSED CONTAINMENT OF EMOTION; TO THEN AWAKE TO THE REALITY, I HAD MISSED A CHUNK OF TIME, MIRED DOWN IN THE MISSION TO LIVE AND PROSPER MATERIALLY, AS IF IT WAS THE ONLY DEGREE OF SUCCESS WORTHY OF MORTAL AMBITION. WOW, THIS IS PROFOUND STUFF. JUST LIKE WHEN I FIRST READ "ZEN AND THE ART OF MOTORCYCLE MAINTENANCE," FOR A UNIVERSITY HUMANITIES COURSE. CAN ONE EVER HAVE TOO MUCH ENLIGHTENMENT? TOO MUCH LIBERATION FOR ONE'S OWN GOOD?
THIS MORNING, OF ALL THE BRIGHT DAWNS I'VE WITNESSED FOR OVER 59 YEARS, WAKING-UP IN THIS BRAMBLE OF MORTAL COIL, I'VE FINALLY HAD THE PROVERBIAL HARD NUT CRACKED-AWAY, EXPOSING MY EAGER TO BE RE-INVIGORATED SOUL. I KNEW IT HAD TO BE IN THERE, AS TO MY KNOWLEDGE, IT HAD NOT YET BEEN DISPATCHED TO ITS GREAT AND ULTIMATE REWARD FOR GOOD BEHAVIOUR. BUT I DIDN'T KNOW IT WAS GOING THROUGH IT'S OWN MID-LIFE CRISIS, WITHOUT SENDING ME AN INTERNAL MEMO. I GUESS I SHOULD HAVE BEEN PAYING MORE ATTENTION. INFLUENCED BY THE PROLONGED TAUNTING, AND STIMULATION OF MUSIC, TO AWAKE TO THE RATHER UNPLEASANT REALITY, AND RECKONING, THAT I'VE SPENT FAR TOO MUCH TIME SHACKLED BY BLIND ADHERENCE TO CONVENTION. WITH "LOVE'S" GENTLY INTOXICATING, TICKLING, PROBING, MAGICAL ALLURE UPON MY IRON-CLAD CONSCIENCE, I NOW, SUDDENLY, PROFOUNDLY, HAVE BECOME SERIOUSLY, AND ALARMINGLY HAUNTED BY MY PAST. WITH A CONSIDERABLE AMOUNT OF REGRET ATTACHED. I SEEMINGLY GREW-UP INSIDE A TEXT BOOK OF SENSIBLE CITIZEN PROTOCOLS, AND THE CHAPTER OUTLINING, THE DOCTRINE OF MANAGEABLE PROPORTION. I MAY HAVE DARED MY OPPONENTS ON THE ICE RINK, TO PUT THEIR SKATE INSIDE MY GOAL CREASE, TO FACE CONSEQUENCE OF MY BLOCKER ON THE BACK OF THEIR HEADS, BUT AS FOR BARING MY SOUL, TO READ MY POEMS AT A 1960'S ERA COFFEE HOUSE, OR BECOMING A BAND GROUPIE, FOLLOWING "LOVE" ON TOUR, I DIDN'T BOTHER. IT WASN'T MY BAG. NOT MY WAY OF LIVING. A CULTURAL RECREATION, THAT SEEMED TOO FULL OF RISK TO BE ENJOYABLE AT THE SAME TIME. GOD, WHAT WAS WRONG WITH ME, THAT I DENIED MY SENSES? BOTTLING UP CREATIVE ENTERPRISE, BECAUSE IT DIDN'T FIT THE SOCIAL NORM, I THOUGHT WAS THE PERFECT FIT, TO, I SUPPOSE NOW, KEEP ALL THE EMOTION WHERE IT BELONGED. FUNNY HOW IT HAPPENS, FROM SOME STRANGE, INADVERTENT, UNEXPECTED SPARK OF INSPIRATION, THAT WHAT WAS A SELF IMPOSED EXILE, BECOMES A REVOLUTION IN THOUGHT ABOUT WHAT THE FUTURE COULD AND SHOULD REPRESENT TO THE NEWLY FREED SOUL. IT WASN'T HOW I WAS RAISED. THIS LIBERATION THING WAS A SIGN OF WEAKNESS, AT REMAINING STAUNCH AND MISSION ORIENTED. IN THE CAPITALIST DISCIPLINE OF GETTING ONE UP ON THE JONES'S. I WAS BROUGHT UP TO ADHERE TO WHAT WAS SOCIALLY / CULTURALLY ACCEPTABLE. PLAY SPORTS TED, YOU WON'T EVER REGRET IT. IT WILL MAKE YOU A BETTER PERSON. A BETTER CITIZEN. A PERPETUAL GOOD SPORT. IT WILL MAKE YOU HEALTHY. I WONDER ABOUT THIS EVERY MOMENT OF EVERY DAY, WHEN MY HANDS ACHE, FINGERS THROB, KNEES CRACK AND HIP CLACKS, ALL FROM HOCKEY INJURIES SUSTAINED AS A YOUNGSTER. INFLUENCED NOT TO BE A LONE WOLF, OR LEADER OF THE PACK. INSTEAD, STRONGLY SUGGESTED, IT WAS GOOD TO BE CONTENTED AS ONE OF THE PACK. A TEAM PLAYER WHERE IDENTITIES MERGE TOGETHER UNDER ONE SWEATER. TO FOLLOW STRICT, "LITTLE-WIGGLE-ROOM EITHER WAY PROTOCOLS" SET BY OTHERS, WAS MY ADOPTED MANTRA. I MIGHT HAVE LISTENED TO ROCK MUSIC AT ITS CUTTING EDGE, BUT I DIDN'T UNDERSTAND IT, UNTIL NOW THAT IS. IMAGINE THAT. WHAT A NEAR CATASTROPHIC DELAY OF MY OWN GOOD SENSES. I FOUND A PORTAL OUT OF HERE, AND I'M NOT LOOKING BACK. I HAVE DISCOVERED MY INNER MAYNARD G. KREBBS, BEATNIK POET OF THE OLD DOBIE GILLIS TELEVISION SHOW (PLAYED BY BOB DENVER, WHO ALSO WENT ON TO PLAY "GILLIGAN" OF THE TELEVISION SHOW "GILLIGAN'S ISLAND"). MY TRUE PASSION TO BE A CONTEMPORARY BEATNIK OF UNCONDITIONAL CONSCIENCE, TO NOW CAST THE OLD, TIRED NORMS, OF SAME OLD, SAME OLD, WHERE THEY BELONG AS INTIMATE ANTIQUITY. SON ROBERT WAS PLAYING A MODERN ERA RE-ISSUE, OF THE 1960 PSYCH ROCK GROUP "LOVE," DURING OUR MORNING COFFEE BREAK, HERE AT OUR GRAVENHURST STUDIO. ESPECIALLY THEIR SONGS "STEPHANIE KNOWS WHO," "ORANGE SKIES," AND "iQUE VIDA!" THAT WITH CONSIDERABLE FASCINATION, LAYERED IN PASSION, FINALLY CUT ME FREE OF MY SELF IMPOSED, MUSTY CONSERVATISM. UNFETTERED AT LAST, AT LONG LAST. THE POWER OF MUSIC TO CUT THROUGH THE LINKS OF CHAIN I'VE FORGED MYSELF, BECAUSE IT WAS THE NECESSARY FETTERING OF EXISTENCE. RIGHT? COLORING INSIDE THE LINES. BEING COMPLETION ORIENTED, AND MISSION PROGRESSIVE, ALWAYS MOVING FORWARD; A SIGN OF WEAKNESS TO RETREAT. QUITE THE OPPOSITE, I DARE SAY, IS BEST FOR ME. I WANT TO RETREAT INTO THE MUSIC OF "LOVE" AND RELIVE WITH ROBUST ENTHUSIASM, A PERIOD OF MY LIFE I BRUSHED OFF, AS AN ANNOYING INTRUSION ON MY STRUCTURED YOUTH. I WANT TO RE-DISCOVER JUST HOW MANY WILDFLOWER MEADOWS I HAVEN'T SKIPPED ACROSS, BASKING I HAVEN'T EXPERIENCED, BABBLING BROOKS I HAVEN'T SAT BESIDE, THE CLOUD COUNTING I REFRAINED FROM BECAUSE IT WAS TOO LIGHT-HEARTED, AND HOW MANY POEMS I DISCARDED AS BEING FRIVOLOUSLY ROMANTIC. WHEN I NOW KNOW, THEY WERE THE MOST HONEST WORKS I HAD EVER PENNED OVER A LONG CAREER OF WRITING FOR EVERYONE ELSE; EXCEPT MYSELF. THERE IS A MALAISE ASSOCIATED WITH THE DRAMATIC REALIZATION, YOU HAVEN'T BEEN DOING WHAT YOU REALLY WANTED, OR IMAGINED FOR THE DAYS AHEAD, IN THOSE MUSIC FILLED, ROMANTIC, HALCYON DAYS OF YOUTH, PREDICTING FUTURE ADVENTURES OF HEART AND BODY. IMAGINING ALL THE EXCITING SITUATIONS WE WOULD FIND OURSELVES IMMERSED, WHETHER THE LEAD SINGER OF A ROCK 'N ROLL BAND, OR A JAMES BOND TYPE, CHANGING THE WORLD ONE VILLAIN AT A TIME. HOW MANY DREAMS FROM THOSE DAYS OF INNOCENCE, WERE LEFT UNFULFILLED? DID YOU EVER BECOME AN "EASY RIDER" INSPIRED MOTORCYCLE ADVENTURER, FOLLOWING THE CROSS COUNTRY TRAIL OF DISCOVERY, PORTRAYED BY DENNIS HOPPER AND PETER FONDA? DID YOU EVER JOIN A COMMUNE, OR HAVE A STINT AS A HIPPY WITH ITS INTIMATE PASSIONS FOR FREE LOVE AND EXPERIMENTATION? DID YOU EVER PAINT AN ABSTRACT, OR WRITE A POEM ABOUT TUNING IN, TURNING ON, AND TUNING OUT? DID YOU SIT AND LISTEN TO "THE DOORS" STARING THROUGH A POSTER OF JIM MORRISON, THINKING IT POETIC JUSTICE IF YOU COULD TURN OUT JUST LIKE HIM; TO THE CHAGRIN OF MOM AND POP WHO WANTED YOU TO BE A DENTIST OR THE TOWN CLERK?
THIS IS MY INTRODUCTION, AS WHACKY AS IT MIGHT READ COMING FROM A LONG TIME CONFORMIST, FOR WHAT I PLAN TO EXPLORE, IN THE NEW YEAR. I HAVE BEEN WORKING WITH SON ROBERT FOR THE PAST YEAR, DISCUSSING AND RESEARCHING THE MUSIC ERA, OF THE MID 1950'S AND 1960'S, WHEN IT WAS MOST INFLUENTIAL TO ME. HE FINDS IT HARD TO BELIEVE THAT HIS DAD, A MUSIC LOVER, DIDN'T HAVE ACCESS TO A PHONOGRAPH UNTIL THE AGE OF SIXTEEN, WHEN MY PARENTS BOUGHT THEIR FIRST STEREO FROM BANKS BROTHERS TELEVISION AND AUDIO, OF BRACEBRIDGE. I DIDN'T HAVE A LOT OF MONEY TO PURCHASE NEW RECORDS, AND RELIED ON MY PARENTS TO GIFT THEM TO ME, UNDER THE CHRISTMAS TREE. TO THAT POINT, WHICH WAS THE EARLY 1970'S, I HAD ONLY KNOWN CONTEMPORARY MUSIC FROM WHAT I HEARD ON CHUM RADIO, ON TELEVISION VARIETY SHOWS SUCH AS, ED SULLIVAN, THE SMOTHERS BROTHERS, AND LAUGH-IN TO NAME JUST A FEW. IN THE EARLY 1970'S MY FATHER PURCHASED AN OLDSMOBILE 98 THAT HAD AN EIGHT TRACK PLAYER, AND WE GOT THE TAPES THAT THE FORMER OWNER HAD LISTENED TO, WHICH WEREN'T TOO SHABBY. CONSERVATIVE, BUT GOOD DRIVING MUSIC. WE ADDED A FEW OF OUR OWN AND WITH A GOOD RADIO, I DID GET TO LISTEN TO A GREATER VARIETY OF POPULAR MUSIC, AND THE BANDS LEADING THE WAY THROUGH THE MUSICAL CONFUSION OF THE 1970'S. WHEN I OFFER AN APOLOGY, WHILE WRITING SOME BASIC MUSIC OVERVIEWS, OF CONCERTS WE HOST HERE IN GRAVENHURST, I THINK BACK TO MY YOUTH, NOT HAVING MORE SIGNIFICANT EXPOSURE TO THE MUSIC OF MY DAY. I WAS TOO BUSY PLAYING HOCKEY AND BASEBALL, AND RUNNING WITH THE HUNT'S HILL GANG, TO WORRY ABOUT WHAT I WAS MISSING OF MY CULTURAL HERITAGE. IT IS A BIGGER REGRET TODAY, THAN IT WAS ANY OTHER TIME IN MY PERSONAL BIOGRAPHY, BECAUSE I WANT TO BE HIP TO WHAT'S GOING ON WITH ANDREW AND ROBERT'S IMMERSION IN THE CONTEMPORARY MUSIC SCENE. I'VE LEARNED A LOT BY BASIC IMMERSION, AND BECAUSE ROBERT SELLS VINTAGE VINYL, AND HAS TO PLAY USED RECORDS TO DETERMINE CONDITION, I AM EXPOSED TO ALL MUSIC GENRES PAST AND PRESENT, AND THAT HAS BEEN ENORMOUSLY HELPFUL TO MY RE-EDUCATION ABOUT THE RELEVANCE OF HAVING INSPIRING SOUNDS IN YOUR LIFE.
ROBERT COULD HAVE GIVEN UP ON ME A LONG TIME AGO, AND AVOIDED MY QUESTIONS BY APPEARING OVERLY BUSY, WITH NO TIME FOR DEBATING POPULAR MUSIC WITH AN OLD FART. I LIKE TO THINK THAT HE BELIEVES I AM WILLING TO LEARN MY WAY OUT OF THE ABYSS OF OLD AND STODGY INTERPRETATIONS, THAT HAVE COME TO THE PRESENT, THE RESULT OF NOT REALIZING THE CONFINING BURDEN I HAD CONSTRUCTED MYSELF, FOLLOWING THE ADVICE OF FORMER MENTORS WHO MAY HAVE ALSO THOUGHT THE WORLD WAS FLAT. I AM STILL STUBBORN IN MY CONVICTIONS, WHICH WHILE A LITTLE THREAD-BARE, HAVE SOME EMBEDDED CHARACTERISTICS OF FLEXIBILITY. I AM LEARNING THAT BEING STEADFAST AND STALWART IS GOOD WHEN FIGHTING A WAR, IN HAND TO HAND COMBAT, BUT OUT OF PLACE, WHEN IT COMES TO A PHILOSOPHY BASED ON, FOR EXAMPLE, SOMETHING AS POWERFUL, INSPIRING, SOOTHING, AND PROGRESSIVE AS WELL CRAFTED AND PERFORMED MUSIC, REGARDLESS OF GENRE. THIS IS THE OPPORTUNITY ROBERT AND TO SOME DEGREE ANDREW HAVE AFFORDED ME, WORKING HERE IN A CORNER OF THEIR GRAVENHURST STUDIO, BEING EXPOSED TO NEW CUTTING EDGE MUSIC, AND THE MUSIC THAT SOOTHES THE SAVE BEAST, AND EVERYTHING IN BETWEEN. IT IS A MOST PLEASING IMMERSION, AND IT COMES AT THE PERFECT TIME TO ENHANCE THE LIBERATION I FEEL NOW, HAVING HAD SEVERAL HOURS OF "LOVE" PLAYING ON THE SPINNING PHONOGRAPH AT MY SIDE.
I HAVE BEEN BOMBARDED WITH MUSIC FROM ALL CULTURES, ALL GENRES, AND THE GREAT SPAN OF MUSIC HISTORY ITSELF, JUST BY WORKING IN CLOSE COMPANY WITH THE BOYS, WHICH HAS MOST DEFINITELY ENHANCED WHAT NEEDED ENHANCEMENT. HOW CAN ONE BE CONNECTED TO SUCH A MUSIC INDUSTRY BUSINESS, AND BE SO ILL INFORMED ABOUT THE LEGACY OF MUSIC? ROBERT WITH INFINITE PATIENCE, HAS SHOWN ME HOW THIS OLD DOG CAN LEARN NEW TRICKS. I AM AMAZED AT MY PROGRESSION IN ONLY A COUPLE OF YEARS. HE SAYS, WITH A CONFIDENT SMILE, THAT OUR MUSIC CONVERSATIONS ARE BECOMING MORE SCHOLARLY EVERY WEEK, AND HE'S LEARNED SOME THINGS ABOUT THE MUSIC SCENE, AND ITS ACTUALITY, AS I'VE RE-TOLD STORIES FROM MY YOUTH. I HAVE SAT HERE OFTEN, OVER THE PAST TWO YEARS, THINKING THAT IT WOULD PROBABLY BE BEST IF I JUMPED BACK INTO MY PERSONAL HISTORY, AND CONTENTED MYSELF WRITING ABOUT REGIONAL HISTORY, AND AMUSING ANECDOTES ABOUT THE BUSINESS OF SELLING ANTIQUES AND COLLECTABLES. LIKE THAT FIRST SNIFF OF FREEDOM, BY GOLLY, IT GETS IN YOUR BLOOD STREAM, AND YOU JUST CAN'T IGNORE WHAT'S GOING ON BEYOND THE BOX YOU'RE BEEN DWELLING IN FOR LONG AND LONG. MUSIC HAS ALWAYS SET ME FREE, AT LEAST IN MY THOUGHTS. THIS TIME, IT IS SETTING ME FREE PHYSICALLY AS WELL, AND IT FEELS REAL GOOD.
IN THE NEW YEAR, I HOPE YOU WILL JOIN ME, EVEN IF YOU ARE NOT A REGULAR OR EVEN OCCASIONAL READER OF MUSIC RELATED OPINION PIECES. MUSIC IS AN ENDLESS HORIZON OF POSSIBILITY. I WILL BE PURSUING MUSIC FROM THE POINT OF VIEW OF AN ELDERLY STUDENT, WHO HAS A DEEP PASSION, TO RELIVE WHAT HE MISSED IN A LIFE THAT AT TIMES DIDN'T SEEM TO BE HIS OWN. I WANT TO RE-DISCOVER WHY MUSIC HAS ALWAYS BEEN A PROFOUND SOURCE OF INSPIRATION AND MOTIVATION; AT ITS SIMPLEST, IT CAN BE THE PLEASANT AND INVIGORATING MUSIC PROVIDED BY NATURE, DAY AND NIGHT, AND AT ITS MOST COMPLICATED, A FRANK ZAPPA ORCHESTRATION I FIND REMARKABLY INTELLECTUAL AND BECKONING; AS A GOOD BOOK AND A TALENTED AUTHOR COMMAND THE READER TO CARRY ON TO THE VERY NEXT PAGE, THE NEXT CHAPTER, UNTIL THE FINAL MORSEL OF STORY AT ITS CONCLUSION. IF MUSIC MOVES YOUR SOUL, AND YOU DON'T KNOW WHY, MAYBE YOU'RE OVER-THINKING. BUT IT'S WORTH SOME INVESTIGATION, EVEN IF WE NEVER CONCLUDE, OR FULLY UNDERSTAND, WHY IT IS, THAT SOME MUSIC TAKES US TO NIRVANA, WHILE OTHER MUSIC MAKES US CRY. I WANT TO KNOW WHY AND HOW MUSIC IS SUCH A POWERFUL INFLUENCE ON OUR LIVES; WHEN WE LET IT IN!
MY CHRISTMAS SOJOURN AT BRACEBRIDGE'S ALBION HOTEL - A WINTER'S EVE WITH AN "ANIMAL"
TO BEGIN THIS HUMBLE, INTIMATE, TIME-WORN CHRISTMAS STORY, I MUST FIRST CLARIFY THAT I DIDN'T SPEND ALL OF CHRISTMAS EVE DROWNING MY SORROWS IN CHEAP DRAFT BEER, AT THE FORMER ALBION HOTEL....NOW A RUBBLE OF OLD BRICK, DOWN ON BRACEBRIDGE'S "MAIN STREET," OPPOSITE THE FORMER TRAIN STATION. THE "ANIMAL" I REFER TO, IN THE HEADING, WAS ACTUALLY THE NAME OF MY ADOPTED CAT. SOMEONE HAD DRIVEN BY THE HERALD-GAZETTE OFFICE, ON DOMINION STREET, TWO YEARS EARLIER, AND HURLED THE KITTEN ONTO THE TARMAC IN FRONT. IT USED TO HAPPEN THAT PEOPLE WHO DIDN'T WANT THEIR PETS ANY LONGER, FIGURED THAT THE NEWSPAPER OFFICE WAS THE PERFECT PLACE TO ABANDON THEM. THEY FIGURED WE'D PUT AN AD IN THE PAPER, OR WRITE A SAD STORY FOR THE FEATURE PAGES, AND SOMEONE WOULD COME IN TO ADOPT THE PARTICULAR DOG OR CAT. THERE WAS NO HUMANE SOCIETY OPERATION BACK THEN. IT HAPPENED SO FAST, I DIDN'T CATCH THE PLATE NUMBER, AND I WAS SO CONCERNED ABOUT RESCUING THE CAT FROM THE BUSY STREET, BEFORE IT GOT HIT, I COULDN'T EVEN RECALL THE MAKE OF THE CAR, OR ACCURATELY DESCRIBE THE PERSON, WHO SO INHUMANELY TOSSED IT OUT OF THE MOVING VEHICLE. I'VE ALWAYS BEEN A CAT LOVER, SO I WAS ALL OVER THAT LITTLE BEAST, IN THOSE FIRST FEW MOMENTS, TRYING TO DETERMINE WHAT INJURIES IT HAD SUSTAINED IN THE ROLL ALONG THE ASPHALT.
WELL, THE LITTLE FELLOW WAS A PRETTY BADLY SCRAPED-UP, BUT NOTHING APPEARED BROKEN, AND THERE WAS NO SERIOUS BLEEDING ANYWHERE I COULD DETECT. I TOOK IT TO THE VETERINARIAN, A FRIEND OF MINE, AND THE WORD WAS GOOD. THE KITTEN WOULD SURVIVE. SO OVER THE NEXT FOUR YEARS OR SO, WE WOULD BE PARTNERING IN MY SMALL APARTMENT AT THE MCGIBBON HOUSE; AND THEN FOR A FEW MORE YEARS WITH MY BRIDE SUZANNE, AT TWO RESIDENCES, ONE BEING OUR FIRST PURCHASED HOUSE, AT THE BOTTOM END OF QUEBEC STREET, BELOW THE FORMER BRACEBRIDGE HIGH SCHOOL. THIS IS THE HOUSE, I'M SORRY TO SAY, THAT CONTRIBUTED TO ANIMAL'S DEMISE. IT WAS A BUSY STREET, AND IT'S ONE OF THE REASONS WE MOVED OUR YOUNG FAMILY TO A LESS HEAVILY TRAVELLED NEIGHBORHOOD OF MUSKOKA. THERE WERE A NUMBER OF ACCIDENTS ON THE STREET, THAT OCCURRED AT THE BOTTOM OF THE STEEP AND WINTER-SLIPPERY TANBARK HILL, AND ONE OF THESE ENDED ANIMAL'S SHORT LIFE. SHE GOT OUT OF THE HOUSE, AND BEGAN CHASING A SQUIRREL, PUTTING HIM DIRECTLY IN THE PATH OF AN ONCOMING CAR. HE SURVIVED FOR A FEW MINUTES IN SUZANNE'S ARMS BUT DIED ENROUTE TO THE CLINIC. I WAS WORKING THAT NIGHT AS AN ELECTION SCRUTINEER IN A PROVINCIAL ELECTION, AT THE FORMER BRACEBRIDGE CENTENNIAL CENTRE, JUST A BLOCK AWAY. WE WERE MOVING TO OUR NEW HOUSE, AT GOLDEN BEACH, THE NEXT MORNING, AND IT WOULD HAVE MEANT, HAD ANIMAL SURVIVED, THAT ITS NEW HOME WOULD HAVE BEEN IN A NICE RURAL SETTING WITH SOME ROOM TO ROAM. IT JUST DIDN'T WORK OUT SO WELL....AT LEAST AS WE HAD INTENDED.
LET'S GO BACK A FEW YEARSS. ANIMAL WAS STILL IN THE KITTENISH PERIOD. AS A RESULT OF ME BEING SINGLE, AND THE FACT THAT MY PARENTS HAD GONE TO FLORIDA FOR THE WINTER, LEAVING ME TO CELEBRATE CHRISTMAS WITH ANIMAL, I GOT SADDLED WITH BEING THE ON-CALL REPORTER FOR THE CHRISTMAS HOLIDAYS. AFTER HAVING SUFFERED THE UNCEREMONIAL HEAVE-HO FROM A LONG TIME GIRLFRIEND, A FEW YEARS BACK, I WAS CONTENT TO BE MISERABLE ON MY OWN....WITH MY STRAY CAT. OTHER THAN WORKING THROUGH THE DOLDRUMS, DAY BY DAY, THERE WAS ALSO A PLAN TO JOIN UP WITH THE FRENCH FOREIGN LEGION, WHERE I COULD LOSE MY IDENTITY. AMIMAL AND I WERE CERTAINLY A COUPLE OF MISFITS, SORT OF LIKE RUDOLPH AND HERBIE THE DENTIST, FROM THAT CLASSIC CHRISTMAS CARTOON I ENJOYED SO MUCH AS A KID.
ON THAT PARTICULAR CHRISTMAS EVE, I'D BEEN OUT AT A FIRE SCENE FOR MOST OF THE AFTERNOON, AND HAD BUMPED INTO MY OLD RINK RAT PAL, ALISTAIR TAYLOR, WHO HAD BEEN CHRISTMAS SHOPPING. AS IT OFTEN TURNED OUT, WE RETREATED, TO WHAT HERALD-GAZETTE REPORTERS CALLED "THE PRESS CLUB," WHICH WAS AN UNBALANCED CORNER TABLE, WITH A FOLDED COASTER UNDER A LEG, AT THE HISTORIC ALBION HOTEL, OPPOSITE THE FORMER TRAIN STATION. WE ARRIVED AT AROUND THE DINNER HOUR, BUT YOU WOULDN'T DARE EAT THERE....EVEN THE PRETZELS ON THE BAR, WERE IN PROXIMITY TO THE COUGHING OF OLD FARTS WHO COVETED THE LINE OF STOOLS, AS THE PLACE OF HONOR IN THE CAVERNOUS TAVERN. THE FOOD WAS JUST ON THE CHALK BOARD TO SATISFY TERMS OF THE LIQUOR PERMIT....OR SOMETHING LIKE THAT. I IMAGINE THE SANDWICHES WERE GREEN BY THAT POINT OF THE WEEK....MADE FRESH EVERY MONDAY. THERE WERE ONLY A FEW SOULS LEFT FROM THE AFTERNOON AUDIENCE. SO AL AND I HAD A JUG OF DRAFT BROUGHT TO THE TABLE, OF NUMEROUS JUGS THAT EVENING, AND FOR HOURS ON END, WE SAT AND RECOLLECTED OUR RESPECTIVE PASTS....UNBURDENED OURSELVES OF TRIALS AND TRIBULATIONS, WHILE GETTING REGULAR REPORTS ON THE WEATHER, WHICH WAS GETTING WORSE BY THE MOMENT. AL AND I WERE SNOWED-IN AT THE ALBION HOTEL IN ALL ITS GLORY. THERE WERE NO STRIPPERS BOOKED THAT NIGHT, AND THE BARTENDER HAD TO WAIT ON TABLES. SO WE DIDN'T GET TO HUG OR MILDLY PINCH THE FEMALE SERVERS, WHO WE LIKED TO TEASE. I WOULDN'T HAVE PINCHED THE BIG GUY WITH THE BEER TRAY FOR LOVE NOR MONEY, AS THEY SAY. AL LIVED A CONSIDERABLE DISTANCE AWAY, AT BALSAM CHUTES, AND EVEN THOUGH I HAD ONLY TWO BLOCKS TO TRAVEL.....IT SEEMED THE BEST THING TO DO.... WAS JUST TO STAY AT THE PRESS CLUB TABLE AND CHAT. IT WAS A LITTLE DISTURBING TO WATCH AS SEVERAL OLDTIMERS, FEEL ASLEEP AT THE TABLES, WITH DRINKS IN HAND, FEELING DESOLATE ABOUT THE LIVES THEY HAD, AND WHAT THEY HAD TO LOOK FORWARD TO WHEN THEY GOT HOME. NO, ON THAT NIGHT, WE WERE TWO OF THE MOST OPTIMISTIC SOULS IN THAT BUILDING. AND PEOPLE AT THE BAR WERE EATING THOSE SNEEZED-OVER PRETZELS....AND ASKING ABOUT THOSE SANDWICHES, WHILE THE BAR-KEEP SHOOK HIS HEAD. AMIDST THE SMOKE AND DIN OF COUGHING AND CONVERSATION, IT HAD ITS RESIDENT HAPPINESS NONE THE LESS. THERE WAS ACCEPTANCE HERE, IN THOSE HOURS, AND THAT'S WHAT COUNTED.
I WON'T KID YOU. IF YOU HAVE, OR ARE STILL, A FREQUENT TAVERN-GOER, YOU CAN EASILY IMAGINE WHAT THE CROWD OF PATRONS MUST HAVE LOOKED LIKE THAT NIGHT. FOLKS THAT DIDN'T WANT TO GO HOME.....FINDING NO REASON TO HEAD BACK TO A PLACE THAT WAS HOLLOW AND FOSTERED THEIR LONELINESS. AT LEAST IN THE BIG ROOM, THAT SMELLED LIKE STALE BEER AND WET FEET, THEY COULD CLAIM TO BE WITH LIKE-MINDED MATES.....WILLINGLY COMMITTING TO AN IMPOSED EXILE FROM THE REST OF THE WORLD. THIS WAS THEIR PLACE ON EARTH; THE HOME THEY PREFERRED, NO MATTER WHAT IT COST TO SIT AT ONE OF THESE STICKY TABLES, WITH WET RINGS FROM WHERE THE LAST GLASS LIFTED OFF. AL AND I TALKED ABOUT LIFE AND WORK, AND OF COURSE, ABOUT THE RINK RATS, OF WHICH HE AND I WERE FOUNDING MEMBERS. HE WAS WORRIED ABOUT HIS WIFE AT HOME, BUT THE SNOW WAS COMING DOWN HEAVY, AND THE WIND WAS MAKING IT IMPOSSIBLE TO SEE TO THE END OF THE BLOCK.....WHEN AL WOULD LOOK OUT THE DOOR TO THE WORLD BEYOND. IT WOULD SETTLE DOWN SOON, AND AL WAS ABLE TO SECURE A RIDE HOME WITH A NEIGHBOR, WHO HAPPENED TO STILL BE IN TOWN.....STRANDED BY THE SAME BLIZZARD. I SWALLOWED THE LAST FEW DROPS OF WARM BEER, BUTTONED UP MY COAT, TOSSING MY SCARF AROUND MY NECK, MITTS AND TOQUE APPLIED, AND WE BOTH HEADED TO THE DOOR. I LOOKED AROUND AT THE REST OF THE CLIENTELE, THAT WOULD LIKELY BE HERE UNTIL AFTER LAST CALL, WONDERING IF I'D BE BACK HERE NEXT CHRISTMAS EVE TO JOIN THIS LONELY HEARTS CLUB. AL CALLED ME LATER THAT NIGHT, JUST TO LET ME KNOW HE HAD ARRIVED SAFELY HOME, DESPITE A HARROWING MOTOR TRIP.
WHEN I HAD ARRIVED IN MY ONE BEDROOM APARTMENT, AT THE FORMER MCGIBBON HOUSE, THAT OVERLOOKED THE BANDSHELL OF MEMORIAL PARK, I FOUND MY CAT "ANIMAL" SITTING ON THE ARM OF THE SOFA, AWAITING SOME COMPANY. I ASSUMED HE WAS LOOKING FOR HIS DINNER, WHICH WAS LONG OVERDUE. MY FAULT. I HAD NO BUSINESS OWNING A CAT IN THE FIRST PLACE. BUT HE WAS A LOYAL SORT OF BEAST, AND HE FORGAVE ALL OF MY TRESPASSES, BY JUMPING UP ON MY KNEE, AND PURRING BOTH OF US TO SLEEP. I WOKE UP BEFORE MIDNIGHT, WITH MY NECK STIFF FROM THE WAY I WAS SLUMBERING IN THE CHAIR, AND ANIMAL WAS STILL SNORING ON MY LAP. I LOOKED UP AT THE TWINKLING CHRISTMAS LIGHTS ON THE ARTIFICIAL TREE, AND I COULDN'T HELP BUT NOTICE HOW BEAUTIFUL IT LOOKED, OUT OVER THE TINY PARK, ALL FRESHLY ADORNED WITH THAT EVENING'S SNOW. I DON'T GET MISTY-EYED OFTEN, AND THIS WAS ONE OF THOSE OCCASIONS. NOT BECAUSE I WAS LONELY, OR FELT ABANDONED, WITHOUT ANY FAMILY TO VISIT FOR CHRISTMAS.....BUT BECAUSE I WAS WITH A WONDERFUL FRIEND THAT I HAD REALLY ONLY KNOWN, TO THAT POINT, AS ANOTHER MOUTH TO FEED. I SAT THERE FOR A LONG TIME, PATTING THE LITTLE FELLOW, AND I SOON CAME BACK AROUND, AFTER TEMPORARY DISDAIN, TO THE PLEASANT REALITY, THAT CHRISTMAS IS A FORGIVING TIME.... OF GOODWILL AND KINSHIP; OF THIS, I COULDN'T ASK FOR MORE THAN THE CREATURE COMFORTS OF MY SMALL LITTLE HOME, AND FURRY COMPANION, THAT ASKED FOR NO MORE THAN A FEW CANS OF FOOD EACH DAY, SOME WATER, AND A GENTLE OWNER WHO WOULD BUDGET A FEW MOMENTS EACH DAY.....TO CURL UP TOGETHER IN A CHAIR, SITUATED SUCH, AS TO AFFORD A NICE VIEW UPON THE REAL BUSTLING WORLD, SO SILENT THEN, BEYOND THE PURRING.
FOR ALL THAT IT DIDN'T HAVE OF CHARM AND ELEGANCE, I HAD ACTUALLY ENJOYED THE COMPANY OF BAR PATRONS THAT NIGHT, IN THEIR OWN PURSUIT OF CONTENTMENT, AND MY ENJOYABLE CHAT WITH AN OLD FRIEND AT THE PRESS TABLE IN A LOW-LIT CORNER OF THE FORMER ALBION HOTEL. WHEN I DRIVE BY IT, ON MY TRAVELS TO BRACEBRIDGE, I'M PLEASANTLY REMINDED OF THAT CHRISTMAS EVE, OF LONG AGO, WHEN I FOUND SOLACE WITH GOOD COMPANY....IN THE MIDST OF A WINTER STORM. I CRIED FOR A LONG TIME, THE NIGHT SUZANNE HAD TO TELL ME ABOUT "ANIMAL'S" TRAFFIC MISADVENTURE, OUT FRONT OF OUR HOME. I WAS HEARTSICK FOR A WEEK AFTER, EVEN WHILE TRYING TO RE-ESTABLISH OUR FAMILY IN THE HOUSE AT GOLDEN BEACH. I MUST HAVE MADE TEN OR MORE SLOW TRIPS PAST THE OLD HOUSE, DURING THAT NEXT WEEK, TRYING TO RECONCILE HOW IT HAD HAPPENED AS GOD'S PLAN, BEING A MOTOR VEHICLE AND ALL....COMPOUNDED BY OUR HUMAN ERROR; AND TO ADJUST TO THE NEW REALITY, THAT THE TABBY WAS NO LONGER. YOU KNOW SOMETHING....WHAT A TREAT IT WOULD BE, ON A NIGHT LIKE THIS....A NEW AGE CHRISTMAS EVE, TO FEEL THE LIGHT, WARM WEIGHT, OF THAT LOVING LITTLE CREATURE, IN SPIRIT, JUMP BACK ONTO MY LAP....FOR OLD TIMES SAKE. HE KEPT ME FROM BEING LONELY ON THOSE LONG WINTER NIGHTS....AT A TIME WHEN I WASN'T AT ALL SURE WHERE I WOULD WIND-UP MYSELF IN GOD'S DETERMINATION. I HOPE, AS A MATTER OF CONSIDERABLE FAITH, THAT GOD'S FOUND HIM A NICE PLACE TO ROAM UP THERE IN THE GREAT BEYOND.
SUZANNE, ANDREW AND I, HAVE SUBTLE AND MODEST MEMORIALS SET UP TO ALL OUR FORMER PETS, REPRESENTING FORMER DOGS AND CATS; BEING TOMMY, FESTER THE FIRST, AND FESTER THE SECOND, SNOWBALL, AND SMOKY (THE CATS); ALF AND KRAMER OUR CANINE COMPANIONS OF ONCE. OUR CATS TODAY ARE ZAPPA, BEASLEY, CHUTNEY AND BUDDY, ALL STRAYS FOUND DUMPED IN THE BOG.
PLEASE CONSIDER GIVING A DONATION TO THE ONTARIO SOCIETY FOR THE PREVENTION OF CRUELTY TO ANIMALS, IN BRACEBRIDGE, OR IN YOUR COMMUNITY, TO HELP FEED AND HOUSE ALL THE STRAY AND UNWANTED ANIMALS IN OUR REGION.....AND IF YOU HAVE PLACE IN YOUR FINE HOME FOR A PET LIKE "ANIMAL" THE CAT, PLEASE CONTACT THE SHELTER FOR INFORMATION ON ADOPTIONS
MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY NEW YEARS TO ONE AND ALL. HAVE A SAFE HOLIDAY.
HAVE A MERRY CHRISTMAS AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR.....AND BE KIND TO OUR FURRY FRIENDS.
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