There Are Huge Treasures Yet To Uncover

ALL IT TAKES IS ONE FIND - AND RETIREMENT WILL BE PAID - BUT THEN AGAIN

THERE ARE HUGE FINDS TO MAKE - A MILES YET TO TRAVEL

     I DON'T REALLY THINK ANTIQUE DEALERS RELATE TOO MUCH TO THE "INDIANA JONES" MODEL, WHEN THEY TRAVEL-ABOUT, IN THEIR MOTOR VEHICLES, LOOKING FOR INTERESTING HERITAGE AND HEIRLOOM PIECES TO BUY.

     I DON'T THINK THEY SPEND A LOT OF TIME RE-ENACTING THE MOMENTS, IN FOND RECOLLECTION, LEADING UP TO THE DISCOVERY OF THE TITANIC. THEY KNOW ALL ABOUT THE STORIES, ABOUT LOST SHIPS, HERITAGE ITEMS BELONGING TO FAMOUS SHIP WRECKS, AND THEY PROBABLY, IF YOU WERE TO SHARE AN INTIMATE MOMENT, WOULD ADMIT TO HAVING A LUSTFUL INTEREST IN PIRATE TREASURE, WHEN THEY WERE TINY TOTS. I THINK IT ALL FACTORS IN TO THE ANTIQUE HUNTER PSYCHE, ABOUT THE STRANGE FICTIONS AND NON-FICTIONS OF ALL THOSE TREASURES LOST AND TREASURES FOUND. THERE'S SOMETHING THAT SETS US OFF, THAT'S FOR SURE, AND IT PROBABLY HAPPENS EARLY IN LIFE. I'VE READ MANY BIOGRAPHIES, OF ACCLAIMED ANTIQUE DEALERS AND COLLECTORS, WHO WERE WELL INTO THEIR SOON-TO-BE PROFESSIONS, BY THEIR EARLY TEENS. EVEN EARLIER FOR A FEW NOTABLES. SOME APPRENTICING WITH FAMILY MEMBERS, WHO HAD ANTIQUE SHOPS. I BEGAN COLLECTING, AS I'VE WRITTEN ABOUT MANY TIMES BEFORE, AT ABOUT EIGHT YEARS OF AGE. THAT'S WHEN I STARTED HAULING INTERESTING ROADSIDE FINDS HOME, COMING FROM LAKESHORE PUBLIC SCHOOL, IN BURLINGTON. OR, MY FAVORITE, WAS BRINGING HOME BROKEN HOCKEY STICKS, THAT SENIOR PLAYERS DUMPED OVER THE BOARDS, IN GAMES PLAYED AT THE BURLINGTON ARENA. I BROUGHT HOME EVERYTHING FROM CHESTNUTS, STILL IN THE HUSKS, TO ONES THAT SOMEONE HAD STRUNG ON OLD SHOE-LACES, TO THROW, AND ANYTHING ELSE THAT HAPPENED TO CATCH MY EYE…..AND MY COLLECTING FANCY. MY MOTHER CALLED ME A "HOARDER" BEFORE I WAS TWELVE. IN FACT, SHE NEVER STOPPED CALLING ME A HOARDER, BUT GAVE UP TRYING TO REFORM ME, AFTER SUZANNE AND I GOT MARRIED. SHE SAID TO HER, RIGHT AFTER OUR MARRIAGE RECEPTION, "SUZANNE, BEST OF LUCK WITH TED." AND YES, SHE DID HAVE A PUZZLED LOOK ON HER FACE, WONDERING IF THERE WAS SOMETHING I HADN'T CONFESSED, BEFORE OUR WEDDING VOWS. MAYBE I RAISED PET PYTHONS, OR HAD A RACE HORSE IN THE BACK SHED. HONESTLY, BY TIME WE GOT HITCHED, SHE KNEW WHAT "HOARDING" AND ANTIQUE DEALER MEANT, TO THE EXPONENT OF TEN. SHE MIGHT NOT HAVE KNOWN THE FULL EXTENT, BUT AT LEAST SHE DIDN'T HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT MY SNAKE COLLECTION, OR THE HAY BILL, FOR THE RACE HORCE I MIGHT HAVE OWNED.

     MY BRIDE DID WARN ME, FREQUENTLY, THAT OUR TINY APARTMENT, IN AN OLD HOUSE, WOULD EXPLODE IF I BROUGHT IN "JUST ONE MORE BOOK." I DID. SHE GOT MAD. BUT THE PLACE DIDN'T BLOW UP EITHER. I DID, EVENTUALLY, BECOME MORE SENSITIVE TO HER IDEAS ABOUT HOME DECORATING. IT WAS WORKING GREAT UNTIL I START SELLING OFF THE BEST PIECES, AND WHEN SHE COMPLAINED, I SAID "DEAR….WELCOME TO THE LIFE OF THE ANTIQUE DEALER FAMILY. HERE TODAY, GONE TOMORROW." WE'RE STILL DOING THE SAME THING ALL THESE YEARS LATER.

     ANTIQUE HUNTERS PROBABLY HAVE MULTIPLE PERSONALITIES, BUT INSTEAD OF BEING A SOURCE OF DAILY EMOTIONAL CONFLICT, IT ACTUALLY PROMOTES TEAM EFFORT…..EACH PERSONALITY HAVING RESPECTIVE STRENGTHS IN SPECIFIC COLLECTING AREAS. MOST GENERALIST DEALERS, WHO ARE OPEN TO BUYING ANYTHING VINTAGE, WITH A PROFIT ATTACHED, CAN WIRE-INTO A CONDITION OF PEAKED CURIOSITY, IF THEY COME UPON SOMETHING OF AGE, QUALITY, FUNCTION, DESIGN, CONSTRUCTION OR MANUFACTURE…..EVEN IF IT ISN'T SOMETHING THEY KNOW MUCH ABOUT, OR EVEN WISH TO OWN FOR ANY LENGTH OF TIME. DEALERS AND COLLECTORS OFTEN BUY OUT OF THEIR AREA OF EXPERTISE, KNOWING THEY CAN USE THE ACQUIRED PIECE…..WHICH BECAME AVAILABLE BY CIRCUMSTANCE, TO TRADE WITH THEIR COLLEAGUES. THIS MUST BE UNDERSTOOD, BECAUSE A LOT OF BEHIND THE SCENES ACTIVITY, GOES ON BETWEEN DEALERS AND COLLECTORS, OUT OF THE PUBLIC OR SHOP DOMAIN. I KNEW A "COKE" COLLECTOR WHO WOULD TRADE ME ANYTHING VINTAGE, THAT I WAS INTERESTED IN, FOR THOSE COKE ITEMS I FOUND OUT ON MY TRAVELS. WE EXCHANGED THESE COLLECTIBLE FOR YEARS, UNTIL ONE DAY, I HEARD THAT HE HAD SUCCUMBED TO A MYSTERIOUS ILLNESS. HE WAS A NEAT GUY TO DEAL WITH, AND HE SURE LOVED HIS INVOLVEMENT WITH COKE NOSTALGIA.

     AS FOR TREASURE OUT THERE, FOLKS, I NEVER LEAVE THIS HAVEN OF BIRCH HOLLOW, WITHOUT THE CLEAR AND PROVEN OPINION, THAT I JUST MIGHT RETURN HOME LATER IN THE DAY, WITH AN ORIGINAL TOM THOMSON SKETCH, OR A DAVID MILNE WATERCOLOR. I'D TAKE ANY GROUP OF SEVEN ART PANEL…..AND FACE IT, SO WOULD YOU. THE PROBLEM, OF COURSE, IS THAT THESE MATERIALS ARE IN SHORT SUPPLY, AND DON'T TURN UP WITH THE FREQUENCY OF SEALER JARS AND PAINT BY NUMBER CARDBOARD. BUT, THEY DO TURN UP. YOU READ ABOUT THESE CASES ONCE OR TWICE EACH YEAR. I'VE TALKED WITH MANY ANTIQUE SHOPPERS, ESPECIALLY IN OUR STORE, AND HAVE HEARD SOME OF THE MOST RIDICULOUS STORIES, ABOUT ALL THE GOOD STUFF BEING SNAPPED UP….AND THAT THERE IS NO CHANCE OF MAKING MAJOR DISCOVERIES IN THE ENTIRE PROVINCE. I WILL CORRECT THEM, IF THEY MAKE THIS TOPIC OF DISCUSSION, A SIMPLE QUESTION. OTHERWISE, SO AS NOT TO OFFEND CUSTOMERS, I WILL JUST LET THEM SATISFY THEIR NEED TO BE HEARD. THE TRUTH IS, THE ONLY ONE WITH A TRUE VESTED INTEREST IN SAYING SUCH THINGS, IS THE ANTIQUE DEALER……SO THAT COMPETITION FOR THESE POP-UP PIECES WILL DIMINISH. IF YOU TRULY BELIEVE ALL THE BEST FINDS HAVE BEEN MADE, AND THERE'S NOTHING ELSE GOOD TO FIND, THEN POSSIBLY YOU'LL STOP BUYING PIECES AT THRIFT AND SECOND HAND SHOPS……AHEAD OF US WHO KNOW THE TRUTH…..AND THAT…..CROSS OUR HEARTS AND HOPE TO DIE, THERE ARE MILLIONS OF GREAT FINDS OUT THERE, IF YOU HAVE THE PATIENCE TO STICK-IT-OUT ON THE HUNT.

THE IDEA THAT THERE IS TREASURE OUT THERE, IS WHAT KEEPS THE JUICES FLOWING

     I don't make thousand dollar finds, each time I head out on an antique hunt and gather mission. I need "smalls" and interesting pieces of vintage furniture, for our family's shop, here in Gravenhurst, so I can be tempted just like any other retailer on earth, looking for something to buy and sell for an eventual "wee" profit. I don't ever leave on an antique hunt, believing that I won't find a decent or "money" piece, for my many miles travelled. I don't impose positivism like a breath refresher. I am so positive on a daily basis, about what's out there on the hustings, that I never have a doubt in my mind that "this could be the best day of my life (in antiques of course)." I couldn't have a defeatist attitude even if I wanted to be downtrodden….because nothing I've ever done in the field of antiques, has ever set me off my mindset, that one blessed day, I'm going to haul home a multi-thousand dollar painting, or piece of exotic furniture…..maybe even a beautifully appointed Faberge Egg. When I say, "you never know," I mean it. Those who are of the opinion there are no Rembrandt's left to be donated to thrift shops, or sold off at yard sales, would be validated I suppose, when I suggest they're probably correct. There's a pretty good idea how many paintings the Dutch artist painted over a lifetime, so there may only be a few left unaccounted for…..although I doubt this is the case. The treasure folks like me look for, are generally obscure pieces, that have become "sleepers," waiting to be uncovered from the dusty inventory, and happily purchased. "Sleepers," are most often under-recognized, "not researched properly", and under-valued antiques and collectibles, in shops and antique malls etc., that experts will be able to spot as "the deal of the day," saying things like, "Holy Mackerel, this sucker is coming home!" Those who know me at area thrift shops, and charity enterprises, and some antique shops, worry about Suzanne and I using our knowledge to beat them at the pricing game. I actually had a store manager, change price stickers on furniture pieces, at the front of the shop, if and when I would stop and examine the new arrivals. Suzanne didn't believe me, when I told her what was happening. So we set a trap. I love doing this. We walked in, said hello to staff, and went right offer to a couple of nice old chairs and a pine chest of drawers, we had a minor interest in……but not at that precise moment. She wrote down the prices, and after some additional study (because we knew staff was watching), we moved down to the back of the store. When we got about thirty feet along toward the back of the building, I looked behind, as did Suzanne at the same time, and there they were……removing the price tags on the furniture, and replacing them with new ones, each with a higher price than what they had initially been marked.

     After we had looked around for awhile, I decided to confront the manager about the price swapping. I was pissed-off. I know for certain, they'd be awfully mad, if I switched the tags, putting a lesser one (removed from another item) on instead…..so how would they feel, getting caught in the act of "reaction counter-pricing." So I took the chap aside, and asked why he habitually re-priced articles after we looked at them. He hadn't thought we noticed what they were up to, and spilled the beans on their strategy. They knew if the new arrivals caught our eye, and made us stop and examine them more carefully, the ultimate judgement on pricing, would come when we gave some sort of affirmation……a look, a visible whisper between Suzanne and I, or anything else that might indicate "we're coming back for this stuff." I asked him bluntly, whether he was highly skilled in reading body language and facial expressions. No he wasn't. Neither was anyone on staff. So I asked again, just what affirmation they were getting, to inspire price increases, just because two antique dealers, happened to stop for a wee gander. He didn't have an answer, and the staff kind of disappeared from behind him. I suggested in no uncertain terms, that this was a crappy way of doing business, as it would be infinitely better, to ask for assistance on evaluation from us, than to betray customers…….all customers, by adjusting price stickers according to our professions, or the car we arrived in.  If I hadn't got an apology at that moment, I would certainly have left to never return again. I got a reasonable explanation, and suggested about a hundred things that were wrong with his and his staff's attitude. I explained very clearly, that this was discrimination against antique dealers and collectors, based on the fact we're more educated in our profession, than they are at selling vintage wares. I suggested this has been occurring since Biblical times, and is common throughout the world. We can't all be antique dealers. I want to remind readers, that I have never turned down a request for an appraisal from a charity shop, and on these occasions, I refrain from buying the article I've priced…..to avoid any perception of price fixing, or conflict of interest. If the item doesn't sell, I remind them, they are welcome to offer it to me…..but I won't make it an imposition.

     I have only ever denied one charity shop appraisals, and it came after a year's services free of charge. No matter how much good I thought I was doing, helping them out, I just couldn't agree with management's burden of policies, and strange protocols…..that made the pursuit of money the end-all. Even in my retail shop, I enjoy the social / cultural part of the business……even if the profits are lower than I might like on a regular basis. I have told a lot of shop managers, that they should at least be aware, when their pricing to the ceiling, that much of their prosperity, hinges on the visits and resulting purchases by both antique retailers and collectors. They develop odd attitudes about professionals, and think that they can push up prices……to what they found out during an online search of values, and still have the dealers and collectors purchasing as they did before. This has backfired on these shops so many times, you really would expect they'd learn their lessons. Our profession, as a retail cavalry, spends a lot of folding money, at these second hand, charity and thrift shops each year. How do they treat us. Goose the prices. The other day, I went to a charity shop I like, and couldn't believe, that management had seen fit to triple, in some cases, the prices of their used books. As a book buyer and seller, I know my values. I get so frustrated trying to help these folks, set reasonable retail prices, that now, I just decide to let them wallow in ignorance…..if this is their logical approach to good business practice. It usually dawns on them, when there are no empty spots on the book shelves after a month…..and boxes and boxes of books clogging up the store room. I had a clerk, recently, tell me to wait around, because some newly priced collectible books were coming out. So I did. And they arrived just as she had advised. Each and every one of the books, was over-priced by at least fifty to a hundred percent. Not just for me. For you. I know the value, because I've been selling books since the late 1970's. She couldn't believe I wasn't foaming at the mouth to buy these damaged, poor quality, old musty books. I might have bought a few, but what was worth two dollars to me, was priced two dollars higher. While we dealer-kind, don't expect preferential treatment, we do expect that if you, as a retailer, are going to target us, with wares, that sensibility will enter the equation. If you scare off the people who are dumping thousands of dollars into your business annually, because of greed, then expect certain failure. Come up with explanations for the financial manager of the operation, how the antique dealers let you down this particular fiscal quarter. In other words, explain the boycott of ridiculous over-pricing. Better still, suggest a new strategy, to re-price what has been over-valued, in the next quarter, for the benefit of every customer looking for fair second-hand prices.

     We went to a yard sale, one Saturday, last summer, and a lady who was participating in the event, had some interesting suitcases, my son Andrew was interested in…..for carrying some of his sound equipment for his music supply business. He can get them for a couple of bucks most of the time, and because they serve a utility purpose, he can't really afford to pay too much for each case. The lady hadn't priced a single item, in her section, and when Andrew asked the price of the two suitcases, she basically had a conniption. She knew he had a main street shop, and all she could think about, was being ripped-off by a shady antique buyer. She suggested about ten dollars each, and Andrew politely declined, and walked away. I then heard her ask a friend, why she hadn't sold anything that morning, when everyone else had. If she had been sensible, she would have cut the price in half, and Andrew would have taken the musty containers off her hands. That's what they were. Musty suitcases. Good for electronics. Terrible for fabric or clothing.

     Those operating shops, dealing with second hand merchandise, are far more worried about selling the holy grail, under-valued, than looking at the big picture, and recognizing that for every game, there is a winner. The antique hunt, for many of us, isn't as much "plain old retail"……as it is an ongoing game, of personal choice, to do better than anyone else. It is an individual recreation, that allows the best of the best to excel. I'm not going to be handicapped because I know more than the vendors in question. And just so you know, I have, on many occasions, (and Suzanne can verify this claim), put extra money in the donation jar, on their counter, or simply given more than a piece is worth, if I find a piece that is worth a substantial amount more than the asking price. I tell them what I'm doing, so there's no confusion. I can tell you for sure, I have never once in my retail life, had a customer offer me more than the asking price, because I valued it too low. And I've lived to find out, just how many hundreds of dollars I lost, when the same item was flipped, sometimes in the same day, to another buyer. You learn, very early in the antique profession, to live and let live. Price based on market values in the region you operate (or send it elsewhere, or sell online). Accept that you can't win all the time. If we didn't have the win / loss scenario in life, it would be pretty boring out there.

     Thanks for visiting today's blog. I began writing antique related blogs a year ago, as a half-serious biography, for my sons…..who know that I'm a writer and a dealer, but don't make a habit of reading my columns. I wanted them to have a record of their old dad's life and times in the antique trade, and a few secrets of the buy and sell of old things…..they might not currently know about. I had a lot of interruptions last year, so I only wrote about thirty blogs, but honestly, I could write a thousand and still have material on the back-burner. It's a fascinating industry, and because it's an ongoing treasure hunt, I couldn't possibly get bored with the enterprise and industry, of hustling through the province, looking to "win," at my chosen profession. But the stories about the antique hunt, and selling wares since the late 1970's, is much more than just trade journal jottings……crusty with cobwebs and years of dust upon dust. If Toronto Sun columnist, Paul Rimstead, had been an antique dealer as well as a writer, these are the kind of stories he would have composed for his faithful readership. My stories are full of wild and whacky stuff, because honestly, so is the business of hunting and gathering someone else's relics……for a living. Interesting situations? I've got a million of them. Including some paranormal stories you might find interesting. I don't know what God has planned for me, but I'm getting a little nervous, that I haven't been diligent enough, writing up these biographical and self-help notes…..if not for use by my sons, maybe for the grandsons and daughters yet to come. Possibly they'll think their grandfather and mother were iconic nuts, doing all this chasing around the countryside, looking for old things. On the other hand, maybe they will be of a mind, and time in history, when having family connections to real hunter-gatherers, might make for an interesting school project…..if they still have schools then. So there's lots more to tell, about antiquing and collecting, in this beautiful province and region of ours. Please join me for an adventure…..as we have known it, for all these years. Maybe by the end, you'll become a collector of acclaim yourself…….but remember, there's no turning back, once you've been bitten. It's a forever thing……like my marriage to my dear and compassionate wife. Farewell for now!

I Need An Auction Fix, It's That Time Of Year.

I'VE GOT TO GET AN AUCTION FIX - OR SOMETHING SOON - AND YES, IT IS THAT TIME OF YEAR

ANTIQUE HUNTING URGES ARE OVER-POWERING

     I THINK…..NO, I'M SURE, MY ANTIQUE HUNTING URGES HAVE BEEN REGIONALLY HONED. "THE HUNT" IN THE OFF-SEASON, FOR THE SHOP "IN-SEASON." MANY OF US, IN MUSKOKA, WHO DEPEND ON THE TOURIST INDUSTRY TO SURVIVE, HAVE THIS SAME ROUTINE. IF I LIVED IN SOUTHERN ONTARIO, AND HAD SHORT DISTANCES TO DRIVE, TO GET TO AUCTION CENTERS, ANTIQUE MALLS, AND SHOPS, I WOULDN'T HAVE THIS SAME SEASONAL URGE, OR NORDIC THULE, TO GET OUT AND HUNT HARD AND LONG FOR THE HOLY GRAIL. BUT WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO ME OVER THE PAST FORTY YEARS, IS THAT I'VE BECOME MUSKOKAN IN LIFESTYLE AND PROFESSION. THE LIFESTYLE THING WORKS OUT PRETTY WELL. THE PROFESSIONAL REALITY IS A LITTLE WEIRD…..AND FRANKLY, IS A LITTLE LIKE A MUSTY OLD GROUNDHOG ROLLING AROUND IN THE HOLE, OF A SMALL, GRASSY KNOLL, LIKE AT GOBBLER'S KNOB, PENNSYLVANIA, AND THEN POPPING ITS HEAD OUT TO SEE HOW THE WINTER'S BEEN GOING. I CONFESS TO HUNKERING DOWN AFTER THANKSGIVING, AND THEN POPPING BACK TO LIFE AS AN ANTIQUE HUNTER-GATHERER, JUST AFTER THE LAST CHAMPAGNE OF NEW YEARS. MANY DEALERS I'VE KNOWN, WHO HAVE MADE THEIR LIVING IN ANTIQUES, HERE IN THE CANADIAN HINTERLAND, HAVE HAD THE SAME CURIOUS SEASONAL HABITS. A SHORT HIBERNATION AFTER A LONG AND DEMANDING SUMMER SEASON, WHICH STRETCHES WELL INTO OCTOBER THESE DAYS.  AND THEN WITH THE WARM SUN OF A JANUARY THAW, UP TO AS LATE AS GROUNDHOG DAY, WE COMMENCE WORKING ON PLANS AND REFINISHING FOR THE ARRIVAL OF THE EASTER LONG WEEKEND….WHICH FOR MOST IN THE TOURIST TRADE, IS THE UNOFFICIAL START OF THE BETTER BUSINESS SEASON. WHILE WE HAVE A DAY TO DAY SHOP, IN GRAVENHURST, WE STILL FOLLOW THE SAME ROUTINE, AS IF WE ONLY OPERATED SEASONALLY. BY THIS I MEAN, WE HAVE ALREADY BEGUN THE DIFFICULT TASK OF ACQUIRING OUR SUMMER SEASON INVENTORY. WE BREAK AWAY FROM THE SHOP IN THE MORNINGS, AND DO THE ROUNDS, SO TO SPEAK, AND ON THE WEEKENDS, WE WILL SPEND A LOT OF TIME ON THE ROAD, HOPEFULLY COMING BACK WITH THE KIND OF MATERIALS SOMEONE WILL FIND APPEALING…..AND THUS THE CYCLE CONTINUES.

     YEARS AGO, AND I KNEW A LOT OF FOLKS IN THE TOURISM SECTOR, MANY SHOPKEEPERS NAILED UP THE SHUDDERS, PULLED IN THEIR BUSINESS SHINGLE, AND TACKED ON A SIGN TO THE BUILDING, ADVISING VISITORS, THAT "SORRY, WE'RE CLOSED UNTIL MAY 24TH," OR "SEE YOU NEXT SUMMER." IT WAS TRADITIONAL. THERE'S NOT AS MUCH OF THIS TODAY, IN MUSKOKA, AS THERE WAS WHEN I WAS GROWING UP, IN THE 1960'S AND 70'S. TODAY MOST URBAN CORE BUSINESSES, TRY TO MAKE THE EXTENSION FROM THE BUSY SUMMER SEASON, THROUGH THE WINTER, KEEPING THEIR SHOPS OPEN WHILE STILL PREPARING FOR THE ARRIVAL OF THE NEXT SUMMER SEASON. BY THIS I MEAN, WORKING ON RESTORATIONS, REPAIRS, REFINISHING, WHILE KEEPING THE DOOR OPEN, FOR ANY ONE WHO WANTS TO HAVE A LOOK AT THE PREVAILING INVENTORY. FAR MORE VENDORS TODAY, PREPARE THEMSELVES FOR THE DOWN-TURN OF BUSINESS ACTIVITY, BY DIVERSIFYING THEIR BUSINESS PLAN, AND OFFERING SERVICES, SUCH AS IN THE ANTIQUE TRADE…..OFFERING TO SELL WARES FOR CLIENTS, THROUGH ONLINE AUCTIONS, SUCH AS EBAY. A LOT OF DEALERS SUPPLEMENT THEIR INCOMES BY USING EBAY FOR SOME OF THEIR ANTIQUES AND COLLECTIBLES THAT DEMAND AN INTERNATIONAL AUDIENCE…..TO GET THE BEST POSSIBLE PRICE. WE USED TO DO THIS ALL THE TIME, BUT BECAUSE IT'S A LOT OF EXTRA WORK, AND FRUSTRATING, WE DROPPED ONLINE SALES ALTOGETHER. WHAT WE DO, IN THE SLOWER MONTHS, BUSINESS-WISE, INVOLVES ALL KINDS OF ACTIVITIES, INCLUDING FREELANCE WRITING FOR ME, AND QUILT AND BLANKET REPAIRS FOR SUZANNE. IN FACT, SHE'S BEEN WORKING, MOST RECENTLY, ON AN INVENTORY OF GRAVENHURST WINTER CARNIVAL SCARVES AND HATS, THAT WE WILL BE SELLING FROM THE SHOP, IN LATE FEBRUARY (TO COINCIDE WITH THE ANNUAL CARNIVAL), WITH A PORTION OF SALES, OVER COST, BEING DONATED BACK TO THE ORGANIZING COMMITTEE. WE'VE ALSO BEEN OUT TRAVELING FROM SHOP TO SHOP, SALE TO SALE, TRYING TO PREPARE A SPRING-SUMMER INVENTORY, TO SUPPLEMENT WHAT WE HAVE LEFT AFTER LAST YEAR'S BUSY SUMMER SEASON…..WHICH FOR US LASTED RIGHT THROUGH UNTIL THE CRANBERRY FESTIVAL IN BALA. YES, IT WAS A GOOD AND LONG TOURIST SEASON HERE IN SOUTH MUSKOKA, AND VERY PROFITABLE.

I MISS THE AUCTIONS WE USED TO HAVE IN SOUTH MUSKOKA

     Suzanne would prefer, that I never attend an auction. When we were newlyweds, my idea of a fun outing, was to attend an auction, conducted by either Les Rutledge, or my friend Art Campbell. Les was from Gravenhurst, Art from Bracebridge. They actually sold together for a period, just before Les passed away. The problem of going to an auction, parallels going to a casino. There are some obvious differences, but there are a lot of similarities, and it's all about gambling. The odd thing is, I won't go to a casino. I will go to an auction. And stay there for the whole bloody day. The difference is, I buy for profit, so unless I make a huge honking mistake, the purchases hauled home, will eventually be sold and I will net a small but tidy profit. I could never be that proficient as a gambler at a casino, and I know enough to invest on my strengths…….and at an auction, I'll never bet the house on a good hand. I might occasionally make a bad buy but never the kind of gamble that would make me fear coming home…..or losing my home on a bad hunch. This comes from attending thousands of auctions, and being an antique hunter for most of my life……from about eighteen years of age onward. Before that, I was a scrounger and a hoarder, and it drove my poor mother nuts.

     It's at this time of the rolling year, that I get antsy. I need out. I want to jump in the vehicle, coffee in the holder, money in pocket, and no priority, other than to come home richer than we left. This may read as arrogant and "full of himself," attitude, but it's true. I don't always come home with treasure, but I rarely arrive back at Birch Hollow, whimpering, and sobbing on my wife's shoulder, about all the money I lost gambling on old stuff. It's this treasure hunt, holy grail chase, that has haunted and taunted me, so pleasantly, for so long……that when times rolls along, when it makes perfect business sense, to get out on the hustings, and make discoveries, I'm a kid again looking for a new toy. It's the one business that has kept me inspired, when writing and history-sleuthing has muddled me into complacency. You must understand, that I hunt and gather seven days a week, in one way or another. Sometimes folks bring me interesting items into the store, and frequently, I just let my sons know I'm taking off for a couple of hours, to visit some local haunts that just might have what I'm desirous of……at that moment. One day, it might be a nice primitive pine dresser, and the very next day, it might be a dazzling little watercolor from Holland. Last week, I was able to sneak away for an hour, and came back with a 250 year old refectory style table, some early pressed glass, a half dozen out-of-print books, and about thirty vintage records for Andrew and Robert to sell in their music shop. Today I came back with a nice Bible stand, in oak, most likely from an area church, a really nice, two burner oil lamp, on a tall brass stand, and a wonderful book on Canadian Group of Seven artists. Suzanne found a magnificent early 1900's sewing basket, with lid, and some more wool for future mitt-crafting. Believe it or not, one of the prime seasons for selling her knit hats, scarves and mitts, comes in the hot summer months. I can't explain it…..we just co-operate with the trend. So now is our time to bulk up, and a few weeks ago, she was able to purchase enough vintage wool, to make forty to fifty pairs of mitts, and many, many toques. She doesn't get her wool from a supplier. She gets it from second hand shops, church fundraising sales, flea markets, and other thrift and charity shops, and usually by the garbage-bag-full. It is always good quality wool, clean and well kept, and she works with what she has. It's her pioneer roots showing. As her great-grandmother made socks for the loggers and farmers in the family, Suzanne has been carrying on the family tradition into the modern era. Many folks are wearing her heavy hand-made socks, and come back regularly, to ask for custom orders. So when, at times, she gets tired of my roaming about the highways and backroads, visiting sales and shops in all obscure corners of the region, I remind her how we got that mountain of yarn she always has in ample quantity…..stored in every drawer, chest, cupboard here at Birch Hollow.

     Auctions for me, have always had an ethereal quality that I can't quite explain. When I worked for the local newspapers, I used to love heading out on a Saturday, in the warmer months, to attend an estate or farm auction. It was so completely different than my day to day job, and there was no stress except what I imposed on myself; to win certain pieces I wanted most, of those items listed for sale. In fact, I used to volunteer, to cover auctions for the newspaper, and it's how I got to know Les Rutledge and Art Campbell so well. In later years, I often went to Wayne Rutledge's (son of Les Rutledge) auctions, and I wrote about them as well, for various publications I was associated. Yet it was always an enjoyable assignment, and I was able to find the most interesting things to write about, and photograph, coming up for sale. Auctions are like big social clubs where you can buy things. Back in the 1980's and early 1990's, it was like connecting with an intimate neighborhood gathering, every time we went to a sale. We knew most people in attendance, because of the sale before, and the hundred auctions over the previous few years. A lot of social, conversational enjoyment, was garnered during those long sale days, and I never got bored. Suzanne wasn't quite as enthused, but then again, she didn't start in the industry, as early in life, as I did. To me, like writing these blogs, auctions and antique hunting, were liberating forces I had to experience……and short of hopping a freight car, sailing a schooner over the seven seas, or climbing Everest, this was the kind of questing that, because of the positive gamble, could open up doors you wouldn't believe. I have made many big finds and subsequent purchases, and I'm not blowing smoke here. Like fishing, I don't need to land a big one every time out, but the fact that you caught one, in the first place, is incentive enough to keep coming back for more. At an auction, I had the chance to perform my craft…..of ferreting out the "sleepers," which are items few know the value of, and then bidding without anyone else but the auctioneer, catching the wink of an eye. The reason you don't want any one else to watch you bidding, is that it is commonplace, to "follow the dealer." People let me find the "money" pieces, then hope I will give some sign of interest, to show them I'm the chap to pursue with back-bids. When I stop, they proceed, assuming, that I would have added at least 100 percent to the price paid, when it hits my shop. This isn't quite true. Sometimes it can be as low as a fifty percent mark-up, but it can also be a thousand percent, if the market value justifies the ceiling. As a warning, in case we ever meet up at sales, I know how to rid myself of follow-the-leader bidders, and it usually costs them a lot of money. I explain this later.

     I will be writing a few more columns about my auction experiences, and how I'd love to return to the days here, when we had regular weekly auctions. I don't know what's wrong, but it seems like this would be a prime area to open up an auction house…..or at least a South Muskoka auction service. Honestly, in its heyday here, I never thought there would be a time, when we wouldn't be home to two or more home based auctioneers…..as there is still enough business to go around. Art Campbell and I used to talk about this a lot, usually when he'd visit my shop. I also used to write a column, entitled "The Auction Roll," for Muskoka Publications, and I had many interviews with Art, a serious glass collector when not auctioneering. I even got Art a spot on the Betty Thompson Talk Show, on CKCO Television one year, with help from my old friend and cameraman, Gar Lewis, who I think did the filming that day…..during an afternoon auction, at the former Browning Hall, in Bracebridge. It was quite a culture back then, and I sure miss it today……when I now have to travel much further to satisfy my urges to gamble on history. I've bought a lot of history at auction sales, let me tell you.

     Antique hunting is always an adventure, if you have the right mindset, from the beginning. The first book I read, before becoming a serious antique hunter, was "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance," which had absolutely nothing to do with antiques. It had a lot to do with discovery and life…..travel and adventure…..and opening of the mind. I still have it on a shelf with my antique reference books, as a sort of visual reminder of how all those antiquing travels got their initiation. Suzanne won't let me have a motorcycle, because she says (like my mother used to say when I asked for a BB gun for Christmas), "You'll hurt yourself….or kill someone else." So I ride a motorcycle vicariously, through reading about it.  She lets me attend auctions, if she is allowed to employ an exit strategy. She gets to leave early to staff the shop. I get to gamble away an afternoon, hunting for the evasive grail, hidden masterpiece; a naive painting by Grandma Moses, or an abstract painting by Jackson Pollock. The allure is a big one. I haven't found one of these yet, but I'm still a young 57, with a lot of ambition to burn off before retirement. By the way, old antique dealers and authors don't retire. They just die in the act. Not quite as satisfying as a final act of sex, but close.

     Join me for some interesting antique hunts coming up on this blog-site. This is the real adventure stuff. Thanks for taking the time to visit. I love writing about antiques and collectibles. You know, my first published column, in the spring of 1978, was called, "Antiques and Collectibles," in the fledgling Bracebridge Examiner; the same year, I helped found the Bracebridge Historical Society. I've certainly written about antiques and history more than about anything else, in my tenure with regional publications. I'm good with that. Now let's see what all that fuss was about. If you're interested in gambling, antiques, adventures, and wild characters in the trade, stick with me for some interesting tales, you won't read anywhere else. I had some great tutors in this trade…..who passed on some very important tips, I'm willing to share, after all these years of being cautious and guarded…….like a magician explaining how a trick is performed. See you again soon. But like that motorcycle, I was referring to previously……I don't intend to set a destination, to where we might eventually arrive. Just like when I used to go to an auction, and tell Suzanne I was going to wait to bid on one piece of unique Canadiana, and then arrive home with a van-load……of stuff, minus the painting, or flat-to-the-wall I had intended to win. It's taking life as it comes, and moving with the curves in the road…….and taking in all the scenery along the way. We'll call it for fun, "Zen and the Art of Antique Hunting," or "The things I didn't tell my partner, I did for fun, on my day off." It will be an odyssey for sure….with a lot of surprises revealed. That's a promise.

     Farewell for now.

Should I Write a Book About Muskoka HIstory? Hell No!

SO WRITE A BOOK ABOUT IT - YOU NEVER KNOW…..IT MIGHT BE A BEST SELLER, OR NOT - CAUSE THEN IT WOULD BE SOMETHING TO TOSS INTO THE FIRE

I HATE BEING BOXED IN - BY AN EDITOR - OR DICTATED TO, BY A SNOTTY-NOSED PUBLISHER

     A HALF DOZEN OF MY REGULAR READERS, OF THIS DAILY BLOG, ASKED ME OVER THE CHRISTMAS SEASON, IF I WOULD EVER CONTEMPLATE WRITING A BOOK ABOUT MUSKOKA HISTORY. I MUMBLED THE TITLES I'VE ALREADY WRITTEN; NONE OF WHICH HAVE NOTCHED ANY MAJOR SALES' RECORDS,…..OR HAVE BEEN SO MEMORABLE THAT THE TITLES ARE ON THE TIPS OF THEIR TONGUES. THEY SUGGEST I KNOW A LOT ABOUT MUSKOKA HISTORY, SO THEREFORE, I SHOULD BE SETTING TO PRINT, REIMS OF HARD COPY; CRADLED INTO NICELY PACKAGED BOOKS, TO LINE THE SHELVES OF BOOK STORES IN OUR REGION…..WHICH BY THE WAY, ARE A LOT FEWER THESE DAYS. BRACEBRIDGE USED TO HAVE THREE BOOK STORES, AND NOW THEY ONLY HAVE ONE, AND IT'S MORE OF A LIQUIDATION, BOOK CLEARANCE OPERATION. GEEZ, IF I DID WRITE A NEW BRACEBRIDGE HISTORY, WHERE WOULD THEY SELL IT? FUNNY THING THAT. MY HISTORIAN COLLEAGUE, GARY DENNISS, HAS JUST RECENTLY PUBLISHED A NEAT BOOK, DETAILING THE PROVENANCE OF STREET NAMES IN THE TOWN. IT'S ON SALE AT THE GRAVENHURST BOOK STORE ON MUSKOKA ROAD, BUT NOT IN AN ACTUAL BRACEBRIDGE "NEW" BOOK SHOP. WE LOST OUR NEWSPAPER OFFICE, HERE IN GRAVENHURST, AND THEY LOST THEIR NEW BOOK SHOPS. WHAT'S GOING ON AROUND HERE? WE'RE GOING TO HAVE TO BE GOOD NEIGHBORS AND SHARE.

     I LIKE BOOKS, AND I COLLECT AND SELL THEM. BUT AS FAR AS WRITING ANY MORE, I DON'T THINK SO. I LIKE THIS INDEPENDENCE. I DON'T ANSWER TO A BLOW-HARD EDITOR, OR A PERSNICKETY PUBLISHER, WHO LIKE TO LORD IT OVER UNDERLINGS, THE TRUE EXTENT OF THEIR GOD-GIVEN AUTHORITY AND PRIVILEGE. I JUST DON'T CONFORM, ESPECIALLY AS AN ELDER STATESMAN. I CAN REMEMBER MY MOTHER, READING AND RE-READING THE COMMENTS MY PUBLIC SCHOOL TEACHER, HAD ADDED TO THE BOTTOM OF MY REPORT CARD. "DOESN'T GET ALONG WITH OTHER CHILDREN." MERLE FLEW INTO A RAGE, AND DEMANDED OF ME, JUST WHAT THAT STATEMENT MEANT……SENSING, TO GET SUCH A COMMENT, I HAD BEEN CAUGHT, FOR EXAMPLE, STUFFING SOMEBODY DOWN THE COAL-CHUTE; WHICH WAS TRUE, BUT HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS OVERVIEW, ON MY REPORT CARD. BEFORE I COULD ANSWER, SHE ALREADY HAD HER COAT ON, AND WAS HALFWAY OUT THE DOOR, WITH ONE HAND CLUTCHING THE REPORT CARD, THE OTHER ON MY SHIRT COLLAR. MERLE, YOU SEE, WAS ONE OF THOSE SELF RIGHTEOUS INDIVIDUALS, WHO TOOK EVERYTHING PERSONAL, EVEN IF IT WAS AN OFFHAND, OBTUSE COMMENT ABOUT HER KID. SHE WASN'T BLAMING ME, BUT SHE WAS GOING TO BLAME THE TEACHER. IT WAS THE SAME WHEN ANOTHER GRADE SCHOOL INSTRUCTOR, SUGGESTED MY "SHYNESS" WAS HOLDING ME BACK FROM BEING AN "A" STUDENT. IF IT HAD ONLY BEEN THAT SIMPLE….I WOULD HAVE HAD STRAIGHT "A'S."

     MY MOTHER WAS WELL SPOKEN AND COULD BE A PADDLE-WHEEL OF RHYTHMIC RETORTS, SUCH THAT THE ONLY THING THE TEACHER COULD SAY WAS, "BUT TEDDY……," OVER AND OVER. YOU KNOW, WHETHER SHE WAS RIGHT OR WRONG WITH HER APPROACH, ESPECIALLY AS PARENT-TEACHER PROTOCOLS WENT, I HAD A RESPECT FOR THE WAY SHE WOULD DEFEND MY HONOR…..REFUSING TO LET EVEN A SINGLE OFFHAND, OR DISRESPECTFUL OVERVIEW PASS, WITHOUT RETALIATION. OR HEARTY EXPLANATION, MAY BE THE BEST WAY TO DESCRIBE HER PRESENTATIONS. WE DID THE SAME FOR OUR BOYS, AND IT WASN'T ALWAYS THE EASIEST THING TO DO…..WHEN THEIR MOTHER WAS A TEACHER……REPRIMANDING ANOTHER TEACHER. POINT IS, THE BOYS COULDN'T PROPERLY REPRESENT THEMSELVES, WHEN ILL-FOUNDED ALLEGATIONS WERE MADE…..AND THERE WERE A FEW DANDIES, SO WE HAD TO INTERVENE. I'M SURE WE WERE CONSIDERED THE PARENTS FROM HELL, JUST AS MY MOTHER WAS, IN MY SCHOOL DAYS; BUT IT'S TRUE, OUR FAMILY HAS ALWAYS HAD THE "SHANE" PERSPECTIVE, OF WHAT IS ACCEPTABLE COMMENT, AND RESPONSIBLE ACTION…..AND WHAT IS JUST PLAINLY, MEAN-SPIRITED. I DO GIVE THE BENEFIT OF THE DOUBT. AFTER THREE STRIKES, IT'S "GO-TIME!"

     I GET ALONG WITH PUBLISHERS TODAY, WHO ARE REASONABLE HUMAN BEINGS, AND TREAT ME WITH RESPECT. I ASK VERY LITTLE IN RETURN, AND I'VE NEVER EVEN ASKED FOR A RAISE. THAT'S BECAUSE I GIVE THEM THE EDITORIAL COPY FOR FREE. I GET HUGE MILEAGE BEING PART OF THEIR HIGHLY SUCCESSFUL PUBLICATIONS, AND THEY HAVE AN EXPERIENCE WRITER WHO IS ALWAYS GOOD AT PLUGGING THE WHITE SPACES BETWEEN THE ADS. IN MY NEWSPAPER DAYS, WELL, THERE WERE FEW DAYS WHEN DOORS WEREN'T SLAMMING AND ACCUSATIONS BEING LEVELED, AND HASTILY CALLED MEETINGS ARRANGED, TO STRAIGHTEN OUT THE STAFFERS GOING ROGUE. THE ONLY ONE WHO CAN STRAIGHTEN ME OUT TODAY, IS MY CHARMING WIFE, WHO HAS BEEN MY BUSINESS MANAGER SINCE WE MARRIED. QUITE A FEW PEOPLE HAVE ASKED HER, WHY I DON'T SIMPLY WRITE A BOOK, INSTEAD OF PREPARING THIS BLOG EVERY DAY. "HE LOVES HIS FREEDOM," SHE'LL ANSWER, TIME AND AGAIN. "A BOOK WOULD JUST FENCE HIM IN…..AND I COULDN'T STAND LIVING WITH THIS GUY HAVING RIGID BOUNDARIES. HE STARTS CLAWING AT THE DOOR TO GET OUT!"

I HAD MY DAY OF BEING AGREEABLE FOR A PAY CHEQUE

     When son Robert first introduced me to blog-writing, it was after an incident with a new publisher, of a former trade magazine I'd been writing for, published in Southern Ontario. The former publisher was a great guy and we got along famously. He'd often send me some suggestions for columns, and he was always so enormously encouraging, when I'd submit the monthly editorial copy. He was truly a gentleman, and I would have worked for him forever, if that had been an option. The new publisher started off fine. Then after awhile, I started getting some unwelcome editing, and suggestions that I needed to pare down the word count. Like Shane, I can withstand three or four slaps on the cheek, before I become the proverbial "tempest" outside the tea pot. I can remember, writing a multi-part series, that was a sea to sea heritage piece, about an historian friend of mine, who had just written a new book. I had the exclusive for the paper. The only payment I received, was a copy of the book for review purposes. But I had written a hugely thorough profile of the book, much more substantial than the paltry reviews offered by others in the print industry, at around the same time.

     At the end of the series, which may have been two or three insertions, the publisher let me know, I was crowding her paper; and, with emphasis, using punctuation to sting the rebuke, it was made clear to me I had to cut my words down by at least a third. Not once, did the publisher offer thanks, for the fact I'd given the paper a major story, and many more readers for those issues. It hadn't been the first time, my word count had become a source of irritation, so on the third strike, I sent in my refusal to slash my word count, which was adequate to my editorial purpose. She insisted, in a second email, that I must conform, because she was boss, and I resigned from further involvement with the publication; all within two minutes of angry contemplation. The publisher owned the product. I wasn't a shareholder and there was no editorial board to back me up. Truth is, I don't deny the publisher's right to trim copy……just not mine. It happened recently, with a local publication, and it ended after only one column. I have never been very good with protocols, when a publisher or editor feels compelled to explain how the positions, at the paper, put them at the top, and a writer like me, at the musty bottom. I've told quite a few publishers to "bite me," and I've never made a mistake in judgement. There are certain personality types I can't get along with in the writing industry. Some times, I foolishly think I can, because I might like the exposure, or the style of the publication. But as soon as management feels it's necessary to let me know the full monty on the pecking order, I know I've made an error in judgement. I've worked in the print media long enough, to know how it all works, without having to be told the same, by a publisher or editor, who has only been in the business a few years or maybe just a few months.

     The reason I got into this diatribe today, is because of the number of people lately, who think I should be working for someone else…..making money for a publisher…..making an editor look good, for the product they can present to the public…..bragging, "Hey, everybody, we've got Currie on our side." No, I'm not full of myself. Working for free, you see, is a humbling experience, especially over many decades. I have no regrets whatsoever, about writing for the love of the craft……and for the joy of being communicative, and wishing the same in response…..which is what I get from readers, on all publications I write for; even from this little spitfire of a blog. No one can accuse me of being a sell out, or toeing the company line. No one watches over my shoulder, telling me how to write, and what to write, and if something was looking over my shoulder, it would only be one of our curious cats, who dwell here at Birch Hollow. Suzanne never looks over my shoulder, because I growl. That's correct. It's a warning growl. I've never actually had to bite anyone, but that's because the growl is an adequate warning. Step back, "oh thee editorial embezzler, who might steal my thunder."

     I will never get rich as a writer, and I'm pretty sure that the only way I would get a Pulitzer, is to swipe one, or buy a replica online. I don't belong to a writer's guild or union, and I don't work for the kind of publications, that have offices full of newspaper association awards (been there, done that), and I have never won an award for writing prowess in over thirty-five years. I always wanted a Gold Quill Award, because I saw another veteran writer getting one….but it just isn't in the cards. I got an award once as a volunteer with the Town of Bracebridge, but it didn't have anything to do with writing. I've been shunned for so long, it's the one book I could write, all from personal experience. I'd call it, "That bridge-burning son-of-a-bitch…..rides again!!!!"

     The real reward, for a lifetime spent living and working as a writer, has been this achievement at present. I can't tell you honestly, because I'm not that proficient a word-smith, (obviously, having no awards on my office wall) just how liberating it is, to be able to sit down here, after a day of working at our antique shop, here in Gravenhurst, and having no rigid editorial plan, before hitting the first key, for the first letter of the opening headline. I am free enough, to be inspired by the moment. I am not tethered or fettered by those who believe themselves superior. Truthfully, I don't write with political bias. I don't belong to any political party. I similarly don't belong to any club or fraternal organization. They wouldn't want me anyway. I don't conform and I certainly don't sing for my dinner. I was a goaltender, in hockey, a center, in football, and a left fielder in baseball. I can be a team player, but not if my individuality is impaired by too many conformist policies. I had a mens recreational baseball coach once, who hated that I wasn't "one of the gang," who partied together, after games……and shared imitate thoughts over many beers at the local tavern. I always played hard for the team, and up to that point in the season, I'd hit well and fielded even better. They guy wouldn't stop nagging at me, to join-in more. Gads, it always comes back to my mother Merle, and how much she hated it when folks made personal comments, about stuff they didn't understand. I sat out eight innings of the the final game of that season, because this jerk had an attitude. He was going to win me over, even if it meant benching me. It was the last game as a playoff qualifier. It was the ninth inning, and we were down by two runs. I'm not making this up. There were three runners on base, with two out. There was an injury. Can you believe this? It's like I'm writing a movie script. The coach looked down at me, and waved me off the bench. He told me I was going in for the injured player, and if I screwed up, I was going to be off the team for good. I looked at the guy, and honestly, if I had been two feet taller, and much meaner, I'd have pulled that hat down over his head, to about his waist…..and kicked him in the ass.

     I went to the plate being totally pissed-off. Even my team-mates were starting off their yells of support, with "Don't screw this up Currie…..but we love you!" What confidence building that was, in front of a large gallery, including Suzanne….who hated baseball, and didn't want me to play anyway. I had a lot of experience playing ball, from novice-up, and had hit well against some of the best pitchers in the league, and a little beyond. I stared down the great John Young, once, a legend in Canadian fastball, who used to live here on Segwun Boulevard. I crowded the plate, so he hit me, in order, I suppose, to set a few early innings' ground rules. I was good with that!  I didn't crowd the plate after that incident, which imprinted the ball and stitching as a bruise on my thigh. So I wasn't really too worried about taking my best shot, this particular night, even with the prevailing negativity. I just couldn't believe the adversarial send-off to the plate. I think I fouled-off twice, into left field, so I knew my swing was too far ahead of the pitch. With no balls, and two strikes, and the game winning runs on base, I didn't feel I had much of a choice, other than to swing-away. In other words, I could not, under any circumstance, on heaven and earth, go down without swinging the bat at the next pitch…..unless it was wild. Yup, it was right out of Hollywood. I smashed the crap out of the incoming curve ball, and it was a grounder that blew past the short-stop, and between left and centre field, hitting the fence, and taking an odd roll, buying me a little extra time to round the bases. I made it to third easily. Three runs came home, and we won the game. I was cheered for ten seconds. The biggest reception was for the three runners I'd knocked in. When I walked to the bench to take off my ball shoes, the coach took his time getting through the players down to me……at the end. I borrowed a gesture from Babe Ruth, in one of this famous final moves, in leaving a team he disliked. As the coach reached for my hand, to shake it, I handed him my ball cap. It was the last game I ever played. I wasn't a sore loser, because we won the game, and the team got to play in the finals that year. I took myself out of the line-up for being a non-conformist. I just couldn't play for a coach or team-mates who treated fellow players in this fashion. I'm not a quitter. But I am steadfast in my rules of conduct, and my loyalty must be repaid by sincere and honest commitment.

     I have crossed a lot of publishers in my day, and I couldn't care less. I have won the affections of those who count, and truthfully, because of this, I have the largest monthly circulation, I've ever had…..and even this blog, has now surpassed 41,000 hits, in just over a year. I'm still averaging between two and three hundred readers daily……not to mention work I do for other publications, at least one other, being online. I could never brag about something like this, because it has taken too much work, commitment, and understanding of my readership, to get cocky about any of the steps to this point….honestly. In case you're wondering, one of the nicest realities, is that I don't get that call anymore……from a publisher telling me my editorial wasn't hard hitting enough…..or that my copy was four hundred words too long……or I didn't do the story the way they had intended it…..according to their bias, not mine. For a writer, artist, musician, philosopher, there is nothing finer in creative enterprise, than freedom of expression. Maybe one day, I will have some kindly publisher approach me, with an idea for a book. I will say "Thanks but no thanks. I'm good."

     I still work, from time to time, on editorial projects that suit me…..and work with people who are respectful of experience…….and never need, once, in our relationship, to remind me that I'm just a lowly writer, in an empire of higher-ups.

     I work better and more creatively, when there are no fences to keep me in…..editorial meetings, with the bosses, to put me in my place….or snooty greenhorns, who think a title on an office door will scare a chap as roguish as me. This blog affords me a wide open world to explore, and I can't tell you, how wonderful it feels, to sit at this keyboard, and know there is no editor breathing down my neck…..or a publisher trying to figure out how much money they're going to make off my productivity. It's a pretty basic freedom…..that I will never allow myself to take for granted.

    I suppose, that I'm still a slave, by true definition of the word, to these cats, and dog, that are just now, letting me know, I have been typing rudely, well past their dinner hour. I guess I'm not as liberated as I thought I was. Thanks for taking the time out of your busy schedule to visit with a rogue like me. Please consider dropping by again, soon. I enjoy when we can spend time together. And you know, I'm not kidding about this. I value ever reader…..all of the time. Thanks again. Goodnight John-Boy!

Hockey Games In Those Great Natural Ice Palaces

THE HOCKEY I KNEW - AND THE ARENAS WITH NATURAL ICE - OH BOY

WHEN WE CRIED TOGETHER, SUFFERING FROM FROZEN TOES AND WHITE FINGERS

     AT LEAST THREE TIMES A WEEK, SOMEONE I KNOW, WILL ASK ME POLITELY, WHAT'S WRONG WITH MY LEFT LEG. I SHOULD BE FLATTERED THEY CARE TO ASK, BUT MY RESPONSES CHANGE DEPENDING ON THE SITUATION. SOMETIMES IF I'M FEELING FULL OF BEANS, I ANSWER THAT I WAS "GORED, DURING THE RUNNING OF THE BULLS IN SPAIN." I'VE BEEN KNOWN TO ANSWER THAT, "I WAS IN A CAR WRECK WHILE RACING IN THE DAYTONA 500," AND EVEN, "MY PARACHUTE DIDN'T OPEN." THEY KNOW I'M KIDDING, AND THEY HALF SMILE IN RETURN. "WRITERS! THEY CHORTLE, WHILE THEY EXIT OUR CONVERSATION. THE FACT IS, I HAVE HAD SO MANY BODY ABUSES, FROM WORK AND SPORT, I REALLY DON'T HAVE AN ACCURATE ASSESSMENT, OF JUST WHAT INCIDENT IT WAS, THAT GAVE ME A PAIN IN THE ASS.

    YEAR'S AGO, WHEN I WAS GOING FOR ASSESSMENTS OF MY JAW, (AS I SUFFER FROM A SEVERE JAW DYSFUNCTION) WHICH INVOLVED SOME CHIROPRACTOR ASSISTANCE, RE-ADJUSTING THE SKELETON THAT APPARENTLY WANTED TO LEAVE THE REST OF MY BODY BEHIND, I WAS TOLD THAT ONE LEG WAS LONGER THAN THE OTHER. I MAY HAVE BEEN PANIC-STRICKEN FOR THAT MOMENT, THINKING, "MY GOD, I'M REALLY OFF-KILTER, AND SHRINKING TOO." I THINK QUITE A FEW OF US HAVE THIS KIND OF SITUATION, ONE LEG A TAD BIGGER AND LONGER THAN THE OTHER, AND FOR MOST, IT DOESN'T ADD UP TO MUCH OF A CRISIS. MY HOBBLING HAS BECOME A LITTLE WORSE THESE DAYS, AND SUZANNE BELIEVES IT'S ALL THE TIME I SPEND AT THE COMPUTER. SHE NOTICED THE OTHER NIGHT, HOW I HABITUALLY TUCK MY LEG UNDER THE CHAIR, POSSIBLY FOR SAFE KEEPING. I THINK RATHER, IT HAS BEEN A LIFE OF PHYSICAL STRESSES, AND NOT THE RESULT OF ONE TRAUMATIC, OR RECURRING INJURY. I DON'T HAVE SWELLING, OR ANYTHING, ANYWHERE, THAT EVEN LOOKS LIKE A DISORDER…..UNTIL YOU SEE ME COMING DOWN THE GROCERY STORE AISLE, LIMPING AND GRUMBLING, AND TELLING SHOPPERS TO GET OUT OF MY WAY….."CRANKY OLD BASTARD COMING," I YELL AS FOREWARNING.

     SO WHEN NICE FOLKS ENQUIRE ABOUT MY WEE HOBBLE, I SELDOM HAVE THE TIME OR PATIENCE, TO GO BACK TO WHERE IT ALL BEGAN. IN THE FRIGID, NATURAL ICE ARENAS WHERE OUR MINOR HOCKEY TEAMS HAD TO PLAY, IN MY VINTAGE OF ORGANIZED SPORTS. I WAS AMONGST THE LAST OF THE MINOR HOCKEY KIDS, WHO GOT TO PLAY IN THOSE BARN-TYPE STRUCTURES, THAT WERE ALWAYS COLDER INSIDE THAN IF WE HAD BEEN PLAYING OUTDOORS…..EVEN CONSIDERING THE WIND CHILL. THEY WERE RUSTIC AND WONDERFULLY TRADITIONAL, IN THE CANADIAN SENSE OF ROUGHING-IT-FOR-SPORTS. IT WAS THE CANADIAN WAY. TO FREEZE YOUR BODY PARTS FOR THREE PERIODS OF FRIGID HOCKEY, WHEN EVEN THE PUCK WOULD DISINTEGRATE WHEN SMACKED AGAINST THE GOAL POSTS. AH, THOSE WERE THE DAYS. I ACTUALLY HAD ONE SPLIT IN TWO, WHEN I GOT HIT WHILE WEARING MY NEWLY ACQUIRED JACQUE PLANTE MASK. THE REF DIDN'T KNOW WHAT THE HELL TO DO.

IT STARTED OFF WITH LEG DROPS AT THE RED WING HOCKEY SCHOOL

     Roger Crozier gave me a free pass to join the annual summer Red Wing Hockey School, at the Bracebridge Arena, in 1968 I believe. Roger told me many years later, that I was considered a rising star as a netminder……which would have been useful information at the time. I just thought they had some extra spots to fill, and that someone from town had mentioned that, short of going to reformatory, I should be put into the program for the town's well being. This is exactly what happened, because it was thought by local coaches, I could be all star goalie material by the time I made it to Midget age. So during this camp period, I had a goaltending coach, and with outside supervision from Roger and his partner, Ron Ingram, they had me doing leg drops, kicks, flops, the butterfly save (legs pushed out flat on either side), and quick jump-ups, from being flat on my face. For days, I never saw a puck in my crease. I just did these leg exercises, to improve my agility in the net. I hobbled home every afternoon. I enjoyed the camp, and I continued thanking Roger, from the time of the camp, to the mid 1990's, when I actually began working for his newly formed charity, the Crozier Foundation of Muskoka. I was public relations director for Muskoka, and curator of the Bracebridge Sports Hall of Fame, which the Foundation financed at the Bracebridge Arena. I think he got the message, eventually, that I appreciated his support way back when……and it was a nice break for a poor kid, from a family that could never have afforded to send me. I'm not saying that the leg drops and splits and all the other exercises hurt my leg and hip joint. I do think, that after many years, even through university and mens recreational hockey, I continued to beat on the same bones and tissue, that bother me today…..especially if I feel the urge to stop a puck coming my way…..or bad weather approaches. I'm like a human barometer. Cold damp weather adds to the discomfort, that's for sure. Doesn't happen too much these days, that I might face someone taking a snapshot, unless I run through a road hockey game, on the way to get the mail across the road, here at Birch Hollow.

     I think a lot about those old arenas though, and how many games I backed-up Tim Morrison (father of rising star comedian, Tyler Morrison), riding the frozen pine, in those incredible, frosted-over, tin-roofed, barns they called arenas; and when I get a little pain down south, it's the first thing that comes to mind. Frozen to the bench, or frozen stiff in the net. It could be brutal at thirty below. The ice itself would explode when we skated over it, and the puck was like a disc of lead, when it hit you in the groin…..which for me, was pretty typical…..the pain on top of pain thing. There are nights, here at Birch Hollow, when I step outside to walk the dog, that I get a whiff of frigid Muskoka air, and the scent of woodsmoke, from neighboring chimneys, and I think back to those hundreds of games, we played in the rustic ice palaces, in villages like Port Carling, Bala, MacTier, Baysville, Sundridge, and Powassan. The better appointed arenas of course were in Gravenhurst, which was definitely a step up from the others; Huntsville and Bracebridge were very nice rinks with normal heaters in the dressing rooms. I loved the game so much, that I never thought about the temperature prior to the game. That would have been distracting.

     When we get upstairs to the dressing-rooms, some of them had stove-pipes running right up through the floor, and positioned in the middle of the tiny room. Very few of our players, left these natural ice arenas, without being branded, on assorted parts of our bodies. I used to back into the sucker just about every game, usually with a bare back. We all left a lot of skin on those red hot stove pipes. Back in those days, I played on minor hockey teams with chaps like Wayne Sander and Paul Duff, and every time I run into these lads today, I automatically think about being piled into one of our father's vehicles, half frozen, driving through snowstorms around the lakes, just to play that "good old hockey game."

     I can remember in the dressing rooms, after the games, when most of us began crying, because of the immense pain, from the stove-pipe heat, that was thawing out our toes. It was excruciating pain. The same with our white-frosted finger-tips. If Tim Morrison and I split the game, I always wanted the second shift, because if you were wet with sweat, and had to sit on the bench for long, you were going to become a popsicle before the final buzzer. The trick, while riding the pine, was to never stop kicking your feet, back and forth, and up and down, to keep warmth generating within…..and blood circulating. The iced bench was a little rough on the behind, but that's a story we won't delve into. But I had many games that my feet were so cold, while playing net, that I wouldn't be able to feel a snapshot to the toes. I often got to the dressing room, to find out, after removing my skates, that my sock was bloody because of an injury. Back in my day, the second string netminders didn't get team issued goalie skates. The town provided the pads, but not the skates. Goalie skates have steel toes made to withstand shots. Ordinary hockey skates then, didn't have much protection at all. Even my goalie pads were too small, so I took a lot of shots and sticks to the upper leg, when I was in a slide, and my pants bunched-up a tad. My mask was too small, so I got hit in the fleshy part of the head a lot. This however, doesn't explain my limp.

     Over the decades, I was injured a lot playing Canada's national sport. The biggest cut I ever had, was on the forehead, when I got into a fight with an opposition forward, and he yanked my helmet off, and started beating me with it……the steel mesh….which left an interesting grid on my face. The near-death injury, was a slap shot to the throat, and no one connected with the team knew what to do, other than tell me, 'Come on Currie, you bum, shake it off." So when I'd take a slap shot on the inside of my leg, or a stick slash to the hip, where there was absolutely no padding, I gave up hobbling to the bench, because most of the time, I was the starting and only goalie. As I've written about many times in the past, minor hockey was brutal back in my vintage of the 1960's onward. I can remember a kid having his front teeth knocked out by high stick, and the coach yelling at him, for falling out of the play, while trying to pick up the remnants scattered on the ice. "But coach…..my teeth…..they're all over the ice." You know, I've watched the movie "Slapshot," about a half dozen times, because there are certain scenes in the film, that remind me of my younger days in hockey, with lads like the Hanson Brothers, that were rough even in the dressing room. Our coaches liked "tough," and "never say die," attitudes, and so did my parents; thus there was no point complaining to them, that a brawl broke out in the dressing room, over the disposal of someone's underwear down the toilet.

     When someone asks me why I limp, I try to come up with something anecdotal, because to get into the decline of my body, in the pursuit of sports excellence, isn't something I can consolidate into a couple of sentences. So I just offer explanations like, "I fell off my horse at the Kentucky Derby," or "I twisted my knee, while climbing Mount Everest." It seems that by limping, I've created quite a stir around here, and there may even be a pool, or bet, about how it happened, that I became suddenly injured. Maybe it was caused when Suzanne finally threw me out of the house, into the hedge, for being argumentative……one too many times. Or maybe it's just the result of playing too hard, in too many extreme conditions, for way too long. So we'll just leave it at that. So the next time you spot me, dipping and doodling all over the place, between the bananas and the turnip bin, just whisper amongst yourselves…….it was hockey that felled the man. God bless him for playing Canada's National Sport…..till he finally could play no more.

     Thanks so much for joining today's blog, written from "close to the hearth," here at Birch Hollow……on a dark and stormy night. Geez, it looks like a night that my dad would have had to drive five or six of us hockey lads, to MacTier, through white-outs, in a rickety old car, with failing windshield wipers, and an intermittent heater. But we survived. Just a little worn around the edges. See you again soon.

ACBS Boat Show Plans Great For Gravenhurst; Social Assistance Woes

BOAT SHOW CHANGES WILL BE GOOD FOR GRAVENHURST - NICE TO SEE LEVELS OF CO-OPERATION COMING FORTH

     A FEW YEARS AGO, WE CURRIES, AND OUR FAMILY ANTIQUE BUSINESSES (THERE ARE THREE) WERE ANNUAL VENDORS AT THE ANTIQUE AND CLASSIC BOAT SOCIETY SHOW, HELD AT SAGAMO PARK; ALWAYS AN EXCITING DAY ON LAND AND WATER. NEWS THIS WEEK, THAT THE ACBS WITH SOME LOCAL PARTNERING, IS CONSIDERING A PROPOSAL TO EXPAND THE SHOW FROM ONE DAY TO THREE, IS GOOD NEWS FOR THIS TOWN, WITHOUT A DOUBT. AS FOR THE "RACING THEME," WELLL SIR, THAT PROMISES TO BRING IN A MUCH LARGER AUDIENCE….AND POTENTIALLY MANY WHO WILL COME BACK ON ALL THREE DAYS OF THE EVENT. OUR EXPERIENCE WITH THE ACBS WAS ALWAYS FRIENDLY AND ORGANIZERS MADE SURE TO CHECK-UP ON VENDORS BEFORE AND DURING THE SHOW, TO SEE IF EVERYTHING WAS GOING OKAY….WHICH IS A NICE FOLLOW-THROUGH. WE WOULD FILL OUR BOOTH WITH MUSKOKA COLLECTIBLES, AND SOMETIMES, BY TEN IN THE MORNING OF SHOW DAY, WE'D BE SOLD-OUT OF THE BEST ITEMS, FROM BOAT HARDWARE, VINTAGE MUSKOKA PHOTOGRAPHS, RARE DISTRICT BOOKS, AND CRESTED HOTELWARE, WHICH WAS ALWAYS A BIG SELLER; ESPECIALLY IF IT WAS A LOCAL NAVIGATION COMPANY PIECE, OR FROM ONE OF THE BEST KNOWN HOTELS……SUCH AS WINDERMERE HOUSE, ROYAL MUSKOKA, OR BIGWIN INN.

     I HAVE ALWAYS FELT THIS WAS A HUGE GRAVENHURST COUP, TO HAVE WON THE SUPPORT OF THE ACBS, OVER OTHER REGIONAL COMMUNITIES, BECAUSE THEY PUT ON A QUALITY SHOW, KNOWN INTERNATIONALLY. WE KNOW THIS BECAUSE OF THE CUSTOMERS WE HAD, AT THE DAY-LONG EVENT, FROM ALL OVER NORTH AMERICA, AND SOME FROM ENGLAND, ALL GREAT ADMIRERS OF VINTAGE WOODEN CRAFT. BUT SO MANY OF THESE FOLKS WERE JUST ENAMORED BY THE SHOW'S SETTING ON SPARKLING MUSKOKA BAY, WITH ITS RESTORED STEAMSHIP, THE RMS SEGWUN. THE ACBS PROMOTIONS, HAVE ALWAYS BEEN WONDERFUL ADVERTISEMENTS FOR GRAVENHURST……ALTHOUGH QUITE A FEW LOCALS ARE UNAWARE THE EXTENT AND WIDE RANGING IMPACT OF THESE MARKETING ACTIVITIES. WE NEED THE ACBS ANNUAL SHOW. IT HAS BECOME A TRADITION, AND YES, EVEN AS SPECTATORS TODAY. WE MAKE A POINT VISITING EACH YEAR BECAUSE, WELL, WE LIKE ANTIQUE BOATS. IT'S IN THE FAMILY. I CAN REMEMBER, OCCASIONS, WALKING THROUGH THE LARGE CROWDS, WITH MY FATHER-IN-LAW NORM STRIPP, AND FEELING AS IF I WAS ON A WALK-ABOUT WITH SOME HIGHLY POPULAR POLITICIAN, FOR THE NUMBER OF HANDS HE WOULD SHAKE IN A KILOMETER WALK, AND HOW MANY CONVERSATIONS ABOUT OLD BOATS HE'D WORKED ON; ACTIVELY ENGAGED WITH WELL-WISHERS FROM THE TIME WE TOOK OUR FIRST STEP, TO OUR RETURN TO THE BOOTH. NORM WAS A WELL KNOWN WOODEN BOAT RESTORER, QUOTED IN A NUMBER OF BOOKS ABOUT VINTAGE WATERCRAFT, BUT WAS ALWAYS PRETTY MODEST ABOUT HIS WORK.

     HE WAS EVEN TELLING ONE CHAP, ABOUT THE TIME HE WORKED WITH HIS FATHER SAM, IN WINDERMERE, TO PAINT THE HULL OF THE STEAM YACHT, "WANDA," WHEN IT WAS AT THE EATON COTTAGE, AT RAVENSCRAG, ON LAKE ROSSEAU. SUZANNE TOLD ME HOW HE COULD IDENTIFY INCOMING WOODEN BOATS, WHEN THE STRIPPS OPERATED THE WINDERMERE MARINA, AND WHAT WAS WRONG WITH THE ENGINES, OF EACH, BEFORE THEY LANDED AT THE DOCK. HE USED TO REFER TO DISAPPEARING PROPELLOR BOATS (DP'S)AS "DAMN PESTS," BECAUSE SOME HAD VERY UNRELIABLE ENGINES, AND HE SPENT A LOT OF TIME HEADING OUT ON THE LAKE, TO ASSIST ONES THAT HAD BROKEN DOWN. BUT HE SURE WAS A CELEBRITY AT THOSE ACBS SHOWS, AND A LOT OF THE BOAT OWNERS THEMSELVES, EITHER KNEW HIM PERSONALLY, OR KNEW OF HIS WORK. BY THIS TIME, NORM WAS IN HIS EARLY EIGHTIES.

     I GET EASILY SIDE-TRACKED THESE DAYS. IT MUST HAVE BEEN ALL THE FESTIVE TURKEY. THE POINT IS, I REALLY LIKE THE IDEA OF AN EXPANDED ACBS PRESENCE IN GRAVENHURST, IN EARLY JULY, AND AS BUSINESS FOLKS UPTOWN THESE DAYS, WE MOST CERTAINLY DO BENEFIT FROM THE SHOW-DAY ATTENDANCE. ONCE AGAIN, IT'S WHEN WE SELL A LOT OF REGIONAL COLLECTIBLES, AND ANYTHING RELEVANT TO VINTAGE BOATING, TO A WIDE ARRAY OF OBSESSIVE MUSKOKA COLLECTORS. WE GAVE UP OUR PLACE IN THE SHOW, WHEN THE BOYS OPENED THEIR MUSIC SHOP, SEVEN YEARS AGO, BECAUSE THE LADS WERE A CRITICAL COMPONENT OF THE EVENT. IT TOOK FOUR OF US, TWO FULLY DEDICATED DAYS, AND SOMETIMES THREE, TO PREPARE FOR THE EVENT, SET-UP, STAFF THE BOOTH FOR THE DAY, TAKE IT DOWN, SHIP HOME AND UNPACK. IT WAS EXHAUSTING WORK BUT ALWAYS AMAZINGLY PROFITABLE…..AND FOLKS WE MET AT THOSE SHOWS, OVER SO MANY YEARS, ARE STILL OUR CUSTOMERS, IN OUR NEW SHOP IN THE FORMER MUSKOKA THEATRE BUILDING. SO I HAVE NO PROBLEM AT ALL, ENCOURAGING THE TOWN AND ALL THE PERTINENT COLLABORATORS, TO ROLL OUT THE RED CARPET FOR THE ACBS…..BECAUSE THEY ALWAYS PUT ON A FABULOUS EVENT, AND ENTERTAIN THOUSANDS OF OUR RESIDENTS, PERMANENT AND SEASONAL, AND OF COURSE A LARGE NUMBER OF DAY TRAVELLERS, ATTRACTED TO MUSKOKA BY THIS MARINE HERITAGE CELEBRATION……AND LAKELAND SETTING.

     OUR FAMILY SOLD OFF ALL OUR VINTAGE WATERCRAFT, AND THE COTTAGE AND MARINA THAT WENT WITH THEM……BUT IT'S STILL AN INTEREST FOR OUR FAMILY, TO STAY CONNECTED TO OUR OWN MARINE HERITAGE. HOPE THE NEGOTIATIONS GO WELL. THIS REALLY IS GOOD FOR THE TOWN. NO QUESTION.

FOOD BANKS, SUPPER CLUBS, AND THE INCREASING ROLE OF DISTRICT SOCIAL SERVICES TO FIGHT FOR THOSE IN PERIL

     When I was a full time newspaper editor, our newsroom always had piles of unsolicited documents, from government sources, bolstered by reims of statistics. It didn't take us long, to debunk most of the theories based on those same statistics. The province or the feds used to contract out for statisticians, to compile the "everything we needed to know" listings, for whatever story we were working on. We could quote them, recite them, pay attention to the findings, or as we liked to do, most of all, find fault with them. The problem with the statistical approach, is that there are lots of relevant factors, left off, when the information was being gathered. They were and are still imperfect, and we found them to be out of sync with the world we were seeing every day, on our reporting assignments. We saw folks in crisis, who were so protective of their situation, that they wouldn't have been included as a statistic in the first place. While some critics will argue "that's impossible," well folks, it was not only possible, it was too large an omission, of general statistics, to avoid. Due diligence, usually found the flaws in information gathering by government sources. It's like when you hear or read about unemployment statistics, and the number of jobs created seems encouraging. Often newsrooms, in print and the electronic media, will get lazy, and report the findings as presented to them, whether there is a vested interest attached to the numbers…or not. So the qualifying statistic, in this case, is to find out how many people lost their jobs, and how many gave up the search, when their unemployment insurance ran out. There is a drastic shortage of comparison reporting. A great lethargy cross referencing and using critical analysis, to uncover flaws in these generalizations, that are so misleading to the prevailing truths.

     The same is happening right now, with the statistics on those Canadians on social assistance…..using food banks, and supper clubs to keep from going hungry….or worse. The statistics the governments are working on, in most cases, and especially what is revealed to the media, are at best, close but not a ringer. This is the big problem here and in a lot of locales. There are thousands upon thousands of Canadians, who will not sign-up for social assistance, or visit a food bank, or attend a supper club event, because of pride. They find other ways of coping, and don't think for a moment than dumpster-diving doesn't happen here…..or that it's just an urban thing, or done by groups of social activists trying to prove a point about wastfulness and human needs.

     The District Chairman, John Klinck, as far as I'm concerned, is on top of this one. In fact, I think he is the first District Chairman I've known, who is making the issue of poverty in Muskoka, and the increasing demands on Social Services budgeting, a front page news story…..on a regular basis. When it comes from the top official in Regional Government, the media pays attention……as they should. And I believe Chairman Klinck has drawn considerable focus, to what the citizens at greatest risk, are enduring monthly, trying to survive in a still difficult economy. He's not allowing the Province to hide behind statistics alone, or on less than revealing overviews, written with political spin by government writers……who, I'm sorry folks, but seldom address the true breadth and depth of the prevailing crisis. It is a crisis of poverty, and the only solution the province has, as shown time and again, is to defer to another level of government…….the problems they don't want to face themselves. They don't know the story beyond the statistics. There is a big scene unfolding, that upper government will find impossible, by statistics and rhetoric, to cover-up much longer. Some of the most profound rebellions and revolutions in world history, have had poverty as the impetus for social and economic change. I see history repeating. 

     There are so many personal stories, and tragedies that need to be researched. There is field work needed, to find out how these problems are manifesting and expanding. The true face of poverty isn't one you may imagine, based on statistics alone. These are people we meet on the street daily…..who live near us, and who used to attend some of the same events…..same coffee shops, and work at the same business or industry. They don't fit a standard profile, which a gathering of statistics may portray, for political convenience. They are just ordinary citizens who have come upon hard times, and financial difficulty for any number of reasons…….including health issues, injury, layoffs at their workplace, indebtedness, family circumstances, elderly citizens on fixed incomes, with medical needs……the list is a long one……the reasons for each crisis, sometimes so complicated, we wouldn't even know how to respond, except with a tear, and a hug….and "I'm sorry," as a most basic offering of condolence. What the province and the federal government is missing, way beyond what the gathered statistics tell them, is that the situation is nearing the "out of control," level, and there are very few emergency procedures left to employ…….if we ever get into another recessionary period in the near future. With the admitted crisis level of Canadian indebtedness, we should all be very worried, about any near-future economic down-turn. We are all impacted by poverty, directly or indirectly. So it is our business. As voters, it's our business. Finding the right government to take this matter seriously, and offer tangible and ongoing solutions, is the way to go. Not by statistic gathering to support an out of touch political platform…..and ideology, like the one where a governing party tells us we're doing pretty well, considering every other country in the world. This is dodging issues to stay in power. I've never seen so much of this ridiculous fact re-arranging for convenience, as with our two upper levels of governance. While I'm sure there are lots of ratepayers angry with District government these days…..and some of their actions, and inaction in current affairs, I still must offer credit to the District Chairman, John Klinck, for keeping the matter of the economically disadvantaged in the forefront of government business. The public at large, needs to know the calamity growing out there……and how the cavalry isn't coming when called. 

    God bless the volunteers, who work at the food banks, and assist with food preparation and serving, at numerous regional supper clubs, and shelters, and those who are front line in social services, who see the suffering every day……and feel desperate themselves, at not being able to do more to help. I know many of these people, who go well beyond the day to day business, and office protocols, to help out in other ways……..in emotional support, that never shows up anywhere in the massive volume of statistics piled on already cluttered desks. I'm sure a lot of these social services front-liners, carry an extra heavy burden, that we can't even imagine…….having to tell clients they don't qualify for assistance; and there is no help available anywhere, to resolve their individual conundrum. How emotionally draining is this? For all parties? They're not just civil servants. They're caring human beings, who would probably like to re-write a lot of government protocols…..but are just staff, and nothing more in the grand scheme of policy making. Here's an idea. Let the upper level politicians, have some down to earth chats, with front line workers in the field of social welfare…..to share some reality beyond the dank, black on white, of compiled statistics.

     As I have before, I must thank John Klinck, for keeping up the media attention on this issue of social welfare, and the increasing stresses on the present system, to cover all the needs, in this huge regional municipality. He seems prepared to expose the crisis honestly, and that is good for all the citizens of our region; in order to appreciate more fully, that despite the statistics that are offered up by political glad-handers, some things can never be adequately explained by statistics alone. I'm sure District is well aware how serious the matter is……and thankfully, they want to talk about it. I'm sure there are politicians out there, who wish they'd just bury-it, and suck-it-up, as the cost of being a government official. It's business as usual. Well, this isn't business as usual. Since my relationship with the media began, in 1979, working for the The Beacon, in MacTier, and throughout the district, with Muskoka Publications, and then both the Gravenhurst Banner, and the Bracebridge Examiner, I have never witnessed, read, or seen with my own eyes, the number of poverty related situations, as I have in the past two years living in Muskoka. Maybe it's the case Chairman Klinck is fed up with complacency, and indifference to a growing reality amongst Muskoka residents, and has decided to go-public, with his worries about the future. I believe this is the case. And I can tell you, it has inspired more thoughtfulness in the community, and questioning, about our upper levels of government…..and how new policies are going to increase difficulties, leveling out the new and future incidents of citizen poverty. Someone has to say something. I'm very pleased our District Chairman is willing to rock the boat…….and tell it the way it is……not just what a statistic indicates, as a general, faceless overview. I don't often commend local government these days, but I am definitely upbeat about this present term of representation……and I can appreciate the difficulty they face, getting an audience at Queen's Park these days…..where it is pretty much a rudderless ship floundering in a stormy sea.

     Please give some thought, some time in the New Year, to offer assistance, even as a volunteer, to one of the local food banks, or supper clubs, that help out the less fortunate. It's what a home town does, after all…….taking care of its neighbors. Need is considerable. The post Christmas season is always tough on these charitable operations. Thanks for all your kindnesses in the past, and thanks for joining me today. It's always nice to share stories with friends and neighbors…….some I know, some I hope to meet one day soon. Cheers from Birch Hollow.

Back On Track With Frank Johnston Biography

A LITTLE PEEK AT 2013 - AND WHAT INTERESTING THINGS WILL BE HAPPENING OUT THERE -

BACK ON TRACK WITH FRANK JOHNSTON BIOGRAPHY

     THINGS THAT CAN CHANGE YOUR OUTLOOK AND PLANNING FOR THE YEAR…..IN THE BLINK OF AN EMAIL. AFTER AN INITIAL PERIOD OF FRUSTRATION, WHICH WRITERS EXPERIENCE, ABOUT EVERY HOUR AND A HALF, I WAS ABLE TO ONCE AGAIN MAKE A CONNECTION WITH KIN, OF GRAVENHURST AND CANADIAN ARTIST, FRANK JOHNSTON. I HAD SET MYSELF A YEAR-LONG PLAN, ORIGINALLY, TO HUNT AND GATHER INFORMATION ABOUT THE TALENTED MR. JOHNSTON, WITH ASSISTANCE OF A NEPHEW, IN SOUTHERN ONTARIO. I WAS DELIGHTED WHEN HE FIRST MADE CONTACT WITH ME, BACK IN THE SUMMER, AND I'M ABSOLUTELY THRILLED NOW, WITH THE LATEST OFFER OF OVER 200 IMAGES OF HIS UNCLE'S PAINTINGS. THIS IS A BIG THRILL FOR ME, BECAUSE I CONSIDER JOHNSTON ONE OF THE FINEST ARTISTS TO HAVE EVER DEPICTED (PAINTED) OUR TOWN, HERE IN BEAUTIFUL SOUTH MUSKOKA. WITHOUT HESITATION, IT CAN BE SAID HE WAS THE DEFINITIVE ARTIST, AND FEW OTHERS CAPTURED THE ESSENCE OF GRAVENHURST'S HISTORY, ESPECIALLY THE HEYDAY OF THE STEAMBOAT INDUSTRY AT MUSKOKA WHARF. I THOUGHT IT WAS GOING TO BE NECESSARY TO DELAY THE BIOGRAPHY, BECAUSE OF SOME FAILED COMMUNICATIONS, BUT WE SEEM TO BE BACK ON TRACK. I'VE GOT TO DO A LITTLE JUGGLING HERE, BECAUSE I TOOK ON ANOTHER FREELANCE HISTORY ASSIGNMENT…..BUT I THINK I CAN SQUEEZE IT ALL IN, FOR THE BALANCE OF THIS WINTER AND SPRING.  I WILL ALSO HAVE ACCESS TO A RARE AND VALUABLE SKETCH, CANADIAN GROUP OF ELEVEN ARTIST, HAROLD TOWN, DID OF HIS FRIEND FRANK JOHNSTON, WHO WAS ALSO KNOWN AS ONE OF THE FINEST PRINT-MAKES IN CANADA. JOHNSTON OFTEN WORKED WITH TOWN'S ART PRINTS, AND THIS IS DETAILED IN A BOOK, ENTITLED "HOT BREAKFAST FOR SPARROWS - HAROLD TOWN," WRITTEN BY IRIS NOWELL. THERE IS A GREAT BLACK AND WHITE PHOTOGRAPH OF TOWN AND JOHNSTON, TOILING OVER THEIR WORK ON THE PRESS.

     I ENJOY RESEARCHING ARTIST BIOGRAPHIES. LAST YEAR I WORKED ON TWO. ADA FLORENCE KINTON, A PIONEER ARTIST OF HUNTSVILLE, AND LAKE OF BAYS ARTIST, RICHARD KARON. I HOPE TO HAVE AN ANNIVERSARY GET-TOGETHER WITH HIS SON RICHARD, WHO WAS INSTRUMENTAL GETTING THE ON-LINE BIOGRAPHY OFF THE GROUND, LAST WINTER, WHICH HAS BEEN WELL USED AS A LOCAL ARTIST RESOURCE. THERE WAS ALSO AN ACCOMPANYING VIDEO AS PART OF THE KARON BIOGRAPHY. ONE THING THAT HAS HAPPENED RECENTLY, WHICH IS CERTAINLY INTERESTING TO ME, IS THAT I BEGAN DEVELOPING A HEAVY READERSHIP IN POLAND, OVER THE PAST MONTH. MUCH OF THE BIOGRAPHY, OF RICHARD KARON, HAS TO DO WITH THE YOUNG PAINTER'S LIFE IN POLAND, ESPECIALLY THE POIGNANT PERIOD DURING THE GERMAN OCCUPATION. HIS MOTHER WAS SHOT BY THE NAZIS, WHO MAY HAVE BELIEVED SHE WAS PART OF THE RESISTANCE MOVEMENT, IN THE WAR-TORN COUNTRY. EVEN NOW, MY READERSHIP IN POLAND, IS SUBSTANTIAL……AND HAS PROBABLY BEEN TRANSLATED. WE ARE ABLE TO TRACK READERS THROUGH THIS BLOG REGISTRY. I ALSO HAVE A SUBSTANTIAL FOLLOWING OF CANADIAN SNOW-BIRDS RESIDING SEASONALLY IN FLORIDA AND ARIZONA. WHAT I'M SO PLEASED ABOUT, IS THAT FOLKS ARE ARCHIVING BACK INTO MY FILES FOR BIOGRAPHICAL MATERIAL, AND HISTORIES FROM THE PAST COUPLE OF YEARS, PLUS CONSULTING MY OTHER BLOG SITES, INCLUDING THE RICHARD KARON RESOURCE SITE. YOU CAN DO THE SAME, IF YOU DIDN'T CATCH THE SERIES AND VIDEO LAST SPRING. YOU CAN DO A SEARCH OF RICHARD KARON AND IT WILL TAKE YOU TO THE BLOG-SITE.

      ON THE OFF-CHANCE THAT YOU STILL HAVE SOME FRANK JOHNSTON GREETING CARDS OR PRINTS,…..POSSIBLY AN ORIGINAL, I WOULD LOVE TO HEAR FROM YOU. IF YOU COULD TAKE A DIGITAL IMAGE OF THE ART WORK, AND EMAIL IT TO ME, WITH YOUR STATEMENT OF PERMISSION TO USE THE IMAGE ONLINE, WE WILL ADD IT TO THE INVENTORY OF PAINTINGS WE HAVE ALREADY FOUND AND RECEIVED, FROM OTHER SOURCES. THIS IS A GOLDEN OPPORTUNITY TO THANK FRANK JOHNSTON, POSTHUMOUSLY FOR THE EXCEPTIONAL WORK HE UNDERTOOK, TO PRESERVE OUR HERITAGE, NOT ONLY IN GRAVENHURST, BUT IN THE WIDER MUSKOKA. BUT OF COURSE, HIS WORK WAS CANADA-WIDE, AND HE DID COMMERCIAL ART WORK FOR MANY OF CANADA'S BEST KNOWN HISTORIC SITES, FROM THE EAST TO WEST COAST. THERE'S A LOT WE DIDN'T KNOW ABOUT FRANK JOHNSTON. THE MAN WHO KNEW HIM BEST, WAS WRITER, PUBLISHER AND MUSICIAN, HUGH CLAIRMONT. I WAS ABLE TO HAVE A FEW CHATS WITH HUGH ABOUT FRANK, SO I KNOW HOW WELL HE WAS THOUGHT OF, AND HOW HIS ART WORK WAS RESPECTED PROVINCIALLY AND NATIONALLY. IT SURE WASN'T EASY WORKING WITH THE PERSNICKETY HAROLD TOWN…..ESPECIALLY CONSIDERING BOTH MEN HAD AGGRESSIVE TEMPERS AND SHORT FUSES. LOTS MORE STORIES ABOUT FRANK TO COME. I'M SO PLEASED THINGS HAVE WORKED OUT FOR THE CONTINUATION OF THE BIOGRAPHY.

SOME INTERESTING IDEAS FOR OUR TOWN

     I like the idea of community gardens being provided, for a nominal fee, at the newly refurbished recreation centre. It's worked in many urban municipalities. It even worked on the fictional Coronation Street, where characters Jack and Vera had their "allotment." There's nothing like gardening for sustenance, to bring together kindred spirits. It has a lot of potential. I do suggest that soil samples be taken, in terms of public liability, being in proximity to a rail line. Past land uses might not seem a big deal, but what may have been dumped into the soil, over the century, might offer some unwelcome surprises, when land use is turned agricultural. As well, ongoing contamination from passing trains will have to be considered, especially those hauling tank cars full of dangerous chemicals, and if there is any possibility of contamination of not just the soil, but growing plants. And then we must consider the numb-nut vandals, who might target such a nice and productive community project. There have to be some security measures implemented to avoid situations of practical-joke-urination on the crops, by those who have a dark sense of humor. There are other potential dangers posed by interlopers, that could increase the risk of dangerous contamination.

     Vandals have recently hit the building we rent on Muskoka Road, for our family business. Taggers were able to put three layers of paint, over about a week, onto the exposed cement block wall facing the main street. They must have been out there for some time, because it's a fairly elaborate work. So thus, if there are vandalism deniers out there……just check our building for proof. And we know each summer, the rascals pull up flower beds, and dump planters, and place beer bottle empties in the planters that haven't been toppled. So when I suggest security, for the community gardens, we should think a little outside the box, before the ground is cultivated…..just how rotten it would be, to have thriving gardens nearing harvest….destroyed by dumb asses, bored with themselves.

     The same goes for the proposed solar energy upright units, some being erected in Rotary Gull Lake Park. The first consideration, is the cost of vandalism, as weighed against the cost of the installations. Over the years we've seen a lot of bad stuff at that park, when the lights go down, and the sun sets. We've taken it upon ourselves, because of our family connection to The Barge, to usher lots of teenagers off the platform. It still is a location of choice, for the drinking crowd, who leave their bottles as evidence of just how big and thirsty the party-goers were, that particular evening. It's like this around the town, but nothing like the time vandals took hours, to reconfigure, the welcome garden on Bethune Drive, near the junction of Highway II. Andrew, Robert and I, were having breakfast at McDonalds, one morning, and we were just casually looking out the side windows. There it was, bold and very green. They had created the design of a huge (see it from an airplane) cannabis plant, in decorative rocks, I seem to recall, to welcome visitors to town…..which must have caught a few folks off-guard. It was a Cheech and Chong moment. This kind of operation wasn't done in fifteen minutes. If they can do something like this, they can throw rocks at solar panels, or worse, and they can easily mow down a community garden in its prime…..if the ill-will is there. We need a revitalized community watch program, to help curtail some of this nonsense, which costs us all a lot of money to constantly repair.

     Getting back to these new vertical, less intrusive solar panels, the town may be interested in installing locally; I think it's a great idea and would set the stage for more public action and reaction…..which is what we need for a green movement to be worth more than its promotion.

     Although I may be the last person, expected to offer up this suggestion, I think this year, it is important for the Town of Gravenhurst, to find any way possible, to fund the Communities in Bloom program, after a reduction in grant money, during last budget's whittling work. Even if the group was able to find corporate sponsors to lighten the financial burden. I have watched the success of this program for quite a few years now, and have sat in the front row of the Awards Ceremonies, each August, when they've been held on The Barge, during one of the popular "Music on the Barge," Sunday nights. It's good to get the people of this community interested in these types of inclusive, wide-ranging projects, that can inspire whole neighborhoods to beautify their properties…..and take up gardening for fun. I was sorry to learn it had some funding cuts last year…..but it's a program that has a lot of potential for the future…..and shouldn't be denied its chance to bloom again on the provincial and national stage. We may well underestimate just how many hobby gardeners we've got out there……who could be encouraged to sign up for Communities in Bloom competitions. I know the town budget process will be another horrendous affair of belt tightening and departmental reductions, but I do think that this flower-power thing, should be investigated, for the potential it might hold down the road……of bringing residents of this town together again…..and what better way, than through community beautification. Suzanne and I aren't role models when it comes to gardening, but we love our lilacs, roses, and flowering shrubs…..that make us so happy to see the spring sun melting away the remaining snow. We certainly support the community initiative. I'm only a blogger amongst the thousands, but I'm always willing to give them a plug if and when it is needed. In fact, I think it's such a worthy initiative, that I believe the group should be able to apply for funding from the Haight Bequeath…..because I see the strength in numbers, such a co-operative effort attracts. If there is one thing I sense about this community that's diminished over the decades, it's this coming-together for the common good aspect. Gardening isn't for everyone. But flowers and attractive properties are a clear promotion, and visible indication, that we take hometown values with fifty shades of pride. I think it would be great if some corporate sponsors chipped in as well. Maybe we could even convince the vandals, to stop tagging for awhile, and tend some public gardens…..to put their artistic talents out for visitor consumption……and for all our senses of well being.

     Just a few ideas from the bleachers. This was the title of my second column, after the first run of "Cold Coffee," back in the days I was editor of the Bracebridge Herald-Gazette. I had to change the name of the column, because my associate writer, Brant Scott, used his column, "A Wee Biscuit," to make fun of my title. Each week, he'd have a one-liner in his copy, referring to my column as, "Cold Turkey," "Tepid Slime," or "Chilled Onions." I would have fired him but he was the best writer on staff…..and my confidant at the tavern each night. He lost interest in harassing me when I changed the heading to read, "From the Bleachers." So outside of getting slivers in the behind, I've found it the perfect backdrop for making suggestions…….like when I used to tell the ump in baseball, that he needed new glasses and a smaller behind. So today, this was my editorial offering from The Bleachers. Agree, or disagree, but please come back another day.

     Trust you had an enjoyable New Years. Ours was quiet and pet-filled. Good food and beverage, and commitments made for 2013, that we probably won't be able to live-up-to. Same old, same old. Do you know we're only six months from the start of the Music on the Barge season. I bet Fred Schulz just had a big gulp, and the first bead of perspiration of worry…..as has become his tradition, of making the summer concert series a stellar success. His old friend, Brian Good was up to Gravenhurst on New Year's Eve, and dropped in to see our boys in the music shop. Andrew and Robert have been helping with the Barge concerts for the past ten years. He's of course, one of the famous Good Brothers, part of that Barge tradition Fred has forged season by season, for more than forty years. He was only here for a short visit, so we couldn't get Fred over to the shop in time. Music on the Barge has played a big part in many of our lives that's for sure, with so many amazing connections and friendships, that it deserves a book on its own. I'm game. It's a long overdue history.

     Thanks for visiting. Make sure you find time, to come again.