I was reminded today, as I was having my propane tank filled at Costco, of an old tank I had in Calgary.

It was past it's prime but still in it's useful life. The law gives us 10 years on a tank and then makes it difficult to impossible to fill again. In Calgary there was a way to have it done, but it ended up being stupid. You paid a fee, around $10, to have it “officially” inspected and then you could fill it once! A new one was more, of course, but at $10 a year it was going to defeat it's purpose very quickly, and $30 for a new one was not a bad deal.

So we had this old tank, about 8 or 9 years old, and we were taking our barbecue, so we decided to take the old cylinder with us. The moving company said they would not take a partly full propane cylinder, so it was up to us.

I had the story a bit wrong, and assumed that they would take an empty cylinder, so I went down to the gas station where we bought propane to see if they could purge the tank for me so the movers would take it (this was wrong as I found out later).

I put the partially filled cylinder down by the tanks and went inside to talk with the people. They told me it was illegal to remove the propane from a cylinder and spray it into the air, and they only purged new tanks to remove air.

I was crushed, but went out to get the cylinder and leave. The guy asked me for $10 and I asked what for.

“For the propane filling”, he said!

“No, no!”, I said. This was wrong, big-time.” I wanted an empty cylinder, not a full one”.

The gas station people were besides themselves. They couldn't empty mine now, as it was illegal, so they had to give me a new one, empty and ready to use!

The movers said they couldn't take it anyway, so I threw it in the car and drove east.

I kept it for the next 10 years!

Italian to English

I was in the airport in Turin, Italy and I had some time to kill. As I was waiting I noticed a line of people waiting for something and I decided to go and investigate. It was a refreshment salesperson, and I knew what I wanted! I wanted a beer! They had cans of beer and I got into line.

Since this was an Italian airport I figured I better use my best Italian to get my refreshment, and I worked on saying, una lattina di birra per favore “, a can of beer please. This would be a test, as I was sure the guy didn’t speak English.

As I got to the front of the line, I practiced quietly, and at the given moment, I proudly said, “una lattina di birra per favore”.

He looked at me, smiled a bit, and said, “What kind would you like sir?”

French to English

In 1984, I had just gotten off of a plane to London, and was making my way into town when we had to make a decision. The trip thus far had been planned far in advance and there were few decisions to make, but here was one. There were two buses we could take, one of them was the right one, and the buses were about to depart so, my friend and I had to quickly determine which bus to take.

A simple answer, of course, as we were at Heathrow, so there would be no trouble.

I was first out, so I ran, out of breath, up to the front of the queue, and asked as quickly as I could the question about which bus to take to get us to our destination.

The uniformed gentleman looked right at me, with a questioning
look in his eyes, and waited a minute, and said, “Où voulez-vous aller ?

I looked at him, and I paused, and I said, “I’m not speaking French”.

He said, “You’re not?”

I said, “No, I’m speaking English!”

He said, “Really?”

I said, “Yes!”

He said, “Well then, where do you want to go?”

We got on the right bus.

On Tuesday I was able to get access to my daughters files as a registered guest. The part I was allowed to view was the billing information, a nice gesture assuming they want to get paid.

Having been to a parent meeting on finances, I knew some of the problems to expect, but this was the first time I was allowed in to see all fees and charges associated with my daughters registration. Many of them we may be able to opt out of if she is not participating in certain kinds of activities, as yet to be determined.

I had a concern, as it turns out, it was well founded. My daughter was perceived as a foreign student because she was born in Massachusetts, regardless of her citizenship.

When I opened the file I fell off of the chair, as her tuition charges were way more than expected, and it was because she is considered foreign at the moment. The paperwork has been turned in so we hope it will end before we have to really send money. I called this morning and they said to wait. I have two weeks plus before we need to make changes.

The tuition is great for Quebecers and not bad ( double) for Canadians and good (more than double Canadian) for Americans, but it depends what you’re used to.

I was startled!

We will see how this one turns out!

Our McGill Days

Today we visited the school store. What a place! They had parent specials, with two t-shirts allowed for $5 each! The deal was, of course, a lost leader. Who could go in and spend $10? Never happen. We spent $375, why not?

A parent said to me that he would be there next week, in front, with a cup in his hand trying to pay tuition! We all understood.

Outside of the University gates there were entrepreneurial kids selling “Harvard, America’s McGill” t-shirts. Very clever play on words and they were constantly selling, I bet mostly to American parents who go home and wear these clever items to show how smart they were to come here.

We met a couple at dinner last night from Chicago, who were very happy to have found this place. There son, who is in my daughter’s dorm, found this school, the last place they visited, and knew he was home. They were beaming but a bit unnerved because they had just said goodbye to their only son and were feeling a bit lost! I know that feeling.

The audience in the parents meeting responded by showing of hands to questions from the podium. How many from Montreal and area,10 to 15 people. How many from Quebec, probably another 40. There were hundreds of people in the room. How many from the rest of Canada, probably 40 %. How many from the US, about 40% . How many from foreign countries, the rest of the group. It was such a diverse group!

Most kids seem to have come by themselves, not with other kids from their high school. Many knew other kids somewhere in the school, but like my daughter, many single kids starting out. This is good for all of them. My daughter said the boys looked to be either 25 or 12!
Lots of activity in this city and at the University.

We are hot and tired and well fed! Definitely worth while trip and a great place to leave a daughter, if you have to!

We have liftoff!

And so, my friends, after an uneventful seven hour drive to Montréal, we have arrived! We found the hotel, registered, and got my daughter to the dorm, just at four o’clock. We first found out she needed a student ID and it was only open until five, so off the two girls went while guess who was left to move it all in?

So, Mom and Dad became the movers. The weather, predicted to be 22 degrees, was over 30! I sweated continuously for the next few hours while we moved.

There were a great many steps from parking to the front door, and the heaviest stuff went in the first two loads. Good news as the elevator died after load two!

Thankfully she lives on the second floor! I put together a fan we bought for her and sat in front of it for a bit!

A few hours later we were done (for day one).

Back to the hotel, we were unable to use hotel parking as we had a carrier on top of the car and we were too high to fit in the underground. No problem, they said, go see these guys around the corner, they have in and out as long as you have cash! So, after a bit of negotiations with two different places, we secured in and out parking for $100 for the four days. It now cots as much to park as my first car cost to buy! If you live long you’ll see everything!
My daughter came back with us and had a shower while we screwed with the WiFi, which works, it turns out, if you sit on a chair by the front door of the room near the bathroom. It is sort of LoFi!

We did go off to dinner, with only a short time because my daughter needed to get back for a movie night. We rushed through downtown Montreal on a Saturday night looking for great fast food and found it! There was a great noodle place behind a Subway! Fantastic, made as you stand there Asian food. You walked through the Subway to get inside!
We returned my daughter in time and went home.

We texed with her later as she never saw the movie but ended up in a bar with her new found friends! Long Island Ice Tea!

It turns out the dinking age in Quebec is 18!

The day has finally arrived...

I have not reached the end of my stories as yet, but I am off to Montreal for a few days, so I won’t be posting daily for a bit. My daughter, the older one, is off to McGill University as Music Major.

This is the fourth time I’ve done this. My oldest son was off to Oberlin College in Ohio, and my wife and I drove him there from Detroit. We were good through the drive and the parent orientation, but were both in tears when we left. He stayed a year, transferred to the University of Michigan, and was an hour away, not a bad deal for us.

My next son went directly to the University of Michigan, and started in the spring term, literally replacing his older brother in his room. My oldest son was obligated to pay through the year, so his brother filled in the spot. As he left (he had a ride) I waved goodbye at him. He was just around the corner, or so it seemed.

My next son went to the Kansas City Art Institute, the year before he went to the University of Michigan (I think there’s a pattern here) and I flew down there with him. I used to live there and was happy to go and see some friends and see him off. I cried as I arrived at the airport and went to the plane. Later, after he transferred, I was a regular visitor to the University.

Now I go farther than before, to drop off my oldest daughter; the little girl I loved and raised and cherished. I’m crying as I write this.

I am going to be a wreck!

TMI

My mother moved into the senior’s apartment building in Baltimore in the late 70’s. I remember she was only 63 and had to get special dispensation in order to qualify for a space. She stayed there until her death in 1997. She was one of three original residents still living there when she passed away. She had many stories to tell about this kind of living.

I remember in the beginning, she was bothered by the tenants over concern with bowel movements. She felt these were private issues, and one should deal with them in a private or with their physician, not with their neighbours!

I used to laugh with her about this kind of story, and laughed at the importance of bowels for old people.

“Well, Mom, I’m 67 years old and...

Now I understand!”

An Evening in Cleveland

Several years ago I had a meeting in Cleveland. The meeting was set for 9:30 a.m. at the Union Club in Downtown Cleveland, and reservations were made for me at the hotel across the street, the name of which, at this time, has escaped my memory. It is an old, well established, downtown hotel and by this point, some 11 or 12 year later, the name is probably changed, but it’s on Euclid Avenue, across the street from the Club.

I knew I was coming in late from Calgary, as "you can’t get there from here", so I had a guaranteed late arrival on my room. I finally arrived at the hotel at 1:00 a.m. I gave the woman on the desk my name and waited for my key.

“I have no room for you”, she said. “But I have a guaranteed late arrival”, I said. She smiled (I was very tired as I had been flying all day) and said, “We guarantee you a room, but not necessarily here”.

OK, I was beyond playing, so I could not wait to see what would happen next.

“Where am I going?”, I asked, and she explained that they had a arrangement with a Travelodge (I believe) in Cleveland to take the overflow and that they would provide a cab, at their expense, to get me to the hotel.

She called the cab, and I was whisked off into the night (or early morning).

I looked around as we drove away and noticed the neighborhood deteriorate as we continued through the night. Suddenly, and with some alarm, we entered the ghetto, or so it seemed. In the midst of boarded up stores and some sub standard housing there appeared a motel! There were a couple of 18 wheelers sitting in the parking lot, and a couple of truckers in the lobby watching TV. It was 1:30 a.m. and I had a 9:30 a.m. appointment and I just wanted to sleep!

I registered, and went directly to a room and fell asleep!

In the morning, I went downstairs, careful not to wear my meetuing suit, and asked where the coffee shop was. No such thing! But, if I walked down the street, I’d find a little place on the corner that sold breakfast.

Off I went into the mean streets of Cleveland, looking for a place to eat.

As I walked, for the first time in my life, I actually heard theme music! I was walking to the beat of Sanford and Son! I looked for Julio and Grady, but they were already out for breakfast!

I reached the corner diner, and it was great!

It was a small, neighborhood diner, a Greek place (what else?), with colorful characters and colorful waitresses. It was a crew who looked like they came straight out of central casting!

There was a guy in sort of army fatigues, with the lenses of his glasses taped together with scotch tape, counting change out from a small, leather purse. There were loud salesmen, giving the waitress a hard time, but all in fun. The waitress cracked her gum as she worked. I had the breakfast special, with eggs, bacon, sausage, potatoes, toast, coffee and anything else they could think of for $4!

I went back to the motel, changed into my suit and got a cab (at their cost) and returned on time to the Union Club. When I went into the meeting I was asked (as an opener),“How was your evening?”

I took the next 15 minutes describing my night!

Bon Appétit......

We went to see Julie and Julia yesterday. We loved the movie, as well we loved Julia Child and watched her regularly on TV. Her books are classics and she was fun.

The surprise for me was that one of the focuses of the film was on blogging. Everything that was said by Julie and her husband to each other about blogging has been heard in my house already!

“You are self centered! “ (I was an only child, so what else is new?)

You care more about your readers than you do about your family! (Not true, it’s just a bigger commitment to me than cleaning the kitchen.)

There were lots of blogging references that made me relate directly to this film.

Overheard in the men’s room, directly after leaving the movie:

“Hi, what’d you see.”

“We saw the cooking movie, the Julia and Julie one.”

“J’a like it?”

“Oh yea, it was good. Y’know the wife used to watch her on television every now and then and she liked it so she made us go.”

This was a resounding approval!

The Jazz Age....

Saturday night we went to see Hot Jazz: A Tribute to Ella Fitzgerald & Oscar Peterson at Mohawk College. It featured the Darcy Hepner Jazz Orchestra and Sophia Perlman, singer. As it was explained, “Duke Ellington called him "the Maharaja of the keyboard". She was known as "The First Lady of Song." This evening, jazz saxophonist Darcy Hepner and his 16 piece orchestra and Perlman, a singer who can scat like Lady Ella celebrate the legacy of these two legends. From Ron Collier’s classic big band arrangement of Peterson’s masterpiece “The Canadiana Suite” to Ella’s signature hits including “How High the Moon” and “Satin Doll” it’s a jazz lover’s dream night!”
It was a great evening. I had not seen live big band jazz since the 1960’s. The performances were fantastic and the young singer was amazing. It was an evening of great music and fun.

I thought maybe jazz was dead, but it’s not. The audience, however, is dying! I had a woman with us who has a broken foot and she had a handicapped sticker. We used it, as I was driving and we arrived early. All of the handicapped spaces were already taken! This should have been an indicator of what we would find.

As a regular concert attendee to classical music events, I’ve learned to be prepared for older audiences. I will even admit to being older myself!

When we saw the Who, we knew it would be an older crowd mixed with young people. But this was overwhelming to me.

At break time, it looked like a rush for the noon meal at the nursing home! People were lining up for the washrooms, and I was able to get in. There were so many guys with canes lined up that the urinals all had people with three legs! (OK, maybe four legs!).

It looks to me like if something isn’t done to change perceptions that we’ll have great musicians and no audiences left to see them.

We went to see Diana Krall a short while ago and I was surprised at that audience as well, although, as a top name performer, she had some younger people in her audience.

Now I have no regular view of this and my only connection with jazz music is pretty much listening to Jazz FM from Toronto and supporting them on an annual basis. It just seems there should be a boost to keep it all going.

Anger Management

I was walking Max, our dog, yesterday at 6:00 p.m. I walked around the neighborhood for a while and was almost home, and had to cross the street to our house. There was no one on the street and only one car in sight.

The street on the side of our house has a speed limit of 40 kpm or 25 mph. There is a school a block away and even though school is not in session, the speed limit remains. It is sometimes used as a speed trap as it’s an easy target.

The one car coming was traveling way too fast but clearly to me, I could make it.

I sauntered across and he (may have) sped up. At least it was going to be reasonably close, but I still had room to spare.

As he came behind me he rolled down the window and shouted something (I never heard it) and I turned toward his back window (as he was pulling away) and “flipped him the bird”*, and I shouted a string of obscenities at him.

My daughter may be right; she thinks I need an anger management class.

I guess it’s a good thing you can’t carry or purchase handguns in Canada.

*A variation of giving someone "the finger", where the middle digit is fully extended and the remaining fingers are bent at the middle knuckle. An advanced maneuver, the extra manual dexterity required is meant to indicate extreme displeasure with the party on the receiving end of the gesture.

I was carded at the Mandarin last night!

I was carded at the Mandarin last night! What a hoot! The Mandarin is a chain of Chinese Buffet restaurants in Ontario.

It’s a great place to go, and last night we (my wife and I and our youngest daughter) were celebrating, with another couple and their daughter, the completion of the girls Grade 2 Piano Program test for the Royal Conservatory of Music.

There are different prices for the time of day and the days of the week and there is a discount for seniors at any time.

When we arrived at our table, the staff determines the fee based upon the guidelines. We said we had one senior. She asked who that was and I said me. She looked at me defiantly; I would have to prove it!

I was laughing so hard, and I told the staff person that I loved her, and pulled out my wallet and I proved it!

You gotta’ love that feeling!

Two emails and a phone call.....

Emails:

Hi Arthur –

I’m sorry I haven’t called. Things have been busy here and at home. *****and I moved all our worldly possessions into storage while *****repairs the floors that were damaged in flood. I think I told you about that the main stack of our building overflowing and covering our wood floors with water! We’ve been living at my parents’ house for the last week and a half -- except for last weekend when we went to*****. Unfortunately, there’s been a bit of a snag with the floor repairs so it may be several weeks until we can move back in.

I’ve heard this weekend is going to be hot. The average temperature in the bedroom at my parents’ is 80F and…did I mention that the mattress is at least as old as I am? I am predicting a HOT and RESTLESS weekend.

*****


Dear *****,

I always fantasized about your talking to me about having a hot and restless weekend.

I guess it proves one should never get what one wants!

Arthur



Phone Call:

From DVSA to *****

(Caller ID says it’s DVSA, 30 seconds after the earlier email, however it’s from someone else in my office)

(Immediate response before any hello)

***** says, “OK, I know it’s not a good idea, you me and **** spending our time all in the same bed, it’s old and it might break”

Silence on our end for 30 seconds…then, ”Hello, do you think it’s Arthur?”

Embarrassing silence on both ends….

Laughing all the way to Tokyo

In 2006 I was one of the speakers at the 12th Annual, First Canadian
Humor Conference. This experience reminded me of the Dr. Fox lecture
story.

In the early 70’s, Psychology Today Magazine was involved in the Dr. Fox
lectures. They may have been responsible or just reported them, but it was
something I will never never forget.

Following this I have an explanation of the study; however, the short version is that a good comedian, giving a bad lecture, is perceived as better than an actual lecturer giving actual content in a “normal” dry presentation..

The Dr. Fox effect is a correlation observed between teacher expressiveness, content coverage and student evaluation and student achievement. The phenomenon was named after the pseudonymous Dr. Myron L. Fox, the actor who was used to conduct the lectures in the first study of this phenomenon.

In the observation, two equivalent groups of students are given lectures varying in content coverage. After the lecture, students are required to evaluate the teacher on effectiveness. A test is also taken to measure the student achievement.
It is observed that student achievement is higher for higher content-coverage. However students are observed to rate high content-coverage lectures as better than low-coverage lectures only under conditions of low expressiveness. Under conditions of high expressiveness, no correlation is observed.

This lack of correspondence between content-coverage and ratings under conditions of high expressiveness is known as the Dr Fox Effect.
In a recent critique of student evaluations of teaching, professor of law Deborah Merritt summarized the Dr. Fox Effect as it was observed in the first experiments: "The experimenters created a meaningless lecture on 'Mathematical Game Theory as Applied to Physician Education,' and coached Fox to deliver it 'with an excessive use of double talk, neologisms, non sequiturs, and contradictory statements.' At the same time, the researchers encouraged Fox to adopt a lively demeanor, convey warmth toward his audience, and intersperse his nonsensical comments with humor. ... Fox fooled not just one, but three separate audiences of professional and graduate students. Despite the emptiness of his lecture, fifty-five psychiatrists, psychologists, educators, graduate students, and other professionals produced evaluations of Dr. Fox that were overwhelmingly positive. ... The disturbing feature of the Dr. Fox study, as the experimenters noted, is that Fox’s nonverbal behaviors so completely masked a meaningless, jargon-filled, and confused presentation.”

THE DOCTOR FOX LECTURE: A PARADIGM OF EDUCATIONAL SEDUCTIONDonald H. Naftulin, M.D., John E. Ware, Jr., and Frank A. DonnellyJournal of Medical Education, vol. 48, July 1973, p. 630-635 can be found at:

http://www.er.uqam.ca/nobel/r30034/PSY4180/Pages/Naftulin.html

June 3, 2009

TOKYO (Reuters) - Japan's bureaucrats may have little to laugh about these days, given opposition charges of misspent tax money, but that has not stopped one ministry offering its officials a unique form of training -- as stand-up comics.
More than 100 transport ministry officials in their 20s got tips this week from professional comedians as part of training in communication skills.
"By experiencing comedy routines, we hope they can learn more about how to speak to clients and how to manage their staff as they begin to have more management responsibility," said Atsuya Kawada, deputy director of the ministry's personnel division.
The training coincides with attacks by the main opposition Democratic Party, eyeing victory in a looming election, on what the party calls wasteful public spending due to decades of policy collusion between bureaucrats and ruling party lawmakers.
Kawada said the approach was better than just listening to lectures for young officials, who are often tired from long working hours.
"We also hope this training will soften the stiff image of bureaucrats”.

Hoarding 101

I always blame the depression babies for being hoarders. In my life, the only ones I’ve known were mostly the folks who were born in and around 1929, and experienced the depression and have been unable to let go of things. Newspapers, magazines, old clothing, china, glassware, etc., sits around in various piles or on shelving and litters the internal landscape. It is not understandable to the rest of us who have dealt with these items as they were used up.

I will admit that these people kept many of our repair people going for years, and that today we have gone over to the other side, and our repair industry has dried up. Few people repair shoes or clothing and our shoe repair shops and tailors have gone away. Technology has improved to the point that we no longer have the TV repair guy on the corner. Things are replaced, not repaired, and there seems to be a direct correlation between hoarders and repair needs. As we lose depression babies over time, we have lost industries.

In the sixties, I had next door neighbors who were not a depression babies, but who were hoarders, and in a good way.

They had an unnatural fear of supermarket strikes. There was once, I guess, a strike at a local supermarket and it inconvenienced them for a week or two. In order to overcompensate for any possible labor action, they chose to develop a larder, a very large shelved room full of supermarket items, so there would be no concern if a strike occurred.

We lived in Baltimore, Maryland, not a small town. There were hundreds of food buying locations and many opportunities to purchase food, but they solved their particular phobia by stocking up. Rather than complain about it, or call them to task over such an unusual action, we savored their unique qualities.

We never had to go out and get anything! If we forgot anything at the store, or if we needed an ingredient, we just called over and picked it up.

We restocked the shelves as soon as possible, but it was kind of like living next door to a 7-11, without the traffic.

The Late Night Phone Call #3

I was sleeping soundly, having returned home from a date.

The phone rang and it was my date, who lived just next door to me in an apartment house, calling and asking me to hurry over. Asking what was wrong, she told me she was very sick and throwing up badly and had no one else around to call.


She had gone downstairs and opened the outside door and left her door open and I could I rush right over.

Being a very nice guy, I had no choice. It was not the fantasy evening I had hoped for, the call in the middle of the night from the girl next door to rush right over, but it was still that call. Just some of the parts were wrong.

I arrived and found her ill and in bed. I helped her as best as I could (held her hair out of the way) and made some tea until she calmed down. We contemplated a hospital trip but she fell asleep and eventually I did too. In the morning she seemed a bit better and I went home and dressed and went to work.

It seemed that our dinner was fine, but she had eaten out with her sister earlier in the day and food poisoning was suspected.

I guess I became a hero for a bit, and we became closer having shared the experience. I did learn that it’s never good to be really alone. If something happens, we all really need someone to call.

“Who you gonna’ call, Ghostbusters?”

The Late Night Phone Call #2

In another late night phone call, I was asleep, and the phone rang. It was our Director of Admissions calling from Texas. It was very late, as she was up late calling me who was on east coast time, an hour earlier than she was.

“I can’t sleep! They’re keeping me up!”

“I was asleep, who’s keeping you up?”

**** and ****, they’re in the next room f**king, and making way too much noise!”

(OK, I’ve cleverly withheld the names and the expletive.)

Now the two people involved were both married, just not to each other!

So, this was a big deal announcement! She wanted me to be the first to know, right after they discovered themselves. It was their first time! I know because they told me years later.

They both found “true love”, inadvertently woke me up and went on to two divorces and a blended marriage.

As far as I know they are still together, twenty some years later.

The Late Night Phone Call (#1)

I’ve had at least three “middle of the night” phone calls that have led to interesting stories. I will try and explain these over the next few days.

Since I believe all of the parties are alive and well, I may have to do something about “naming names”.

In 1984 I was living in a ground floor apartment in downtown Birmingham, Michigan, in a house destined to be torn down. It was replaced by three or four townhouses, but at the time, I was waiting for the end, and living well at a very reasonable rent.

I had gone to bed at about 10:30 p.m. on a “school night” and was sound asleep when my phone rang. I staggered to the phone, and there was a young woman on the other end of the phone, asking for help. (See, I didn’t use the name!)

It seems she had gone with a friend of mine to a local watering hole, and they had been there a while. It was now close to midnight. They both lived in Grosse Pointe, and it was a long way home and my friend was drunk. She was very concerned for her life (and his), and she wanted me to get dressed and come up to the bar and take them home.

I was thinking, (not with my brain), and of course agreed to do this immediately. I reluctantly dressed and went to the bar, a few minutes away. I wandered in and we had a scene, where my friend accused me of taking his date away from him. I was trying to give them both a ride home; I explained I was just trying to help, and that his wife wouldn’t appreciate his date anyway!

He let me know in no uncertain terms that he needed no ride, that I was just after the girl (OK, that may have been true) and that I was not his friend. He stayed at the bar, and I gave the young woman a ride home, and went back home myself and went to bed, very tired.

The next day I spoke with my friend who almost made it home.

He totaled his vehicle two blocks from his house!

Uncle Woody

Uncle Woody, who was never anyone’s Uncle in our family, was married to our next door neighbor for a few years.

He’s a great guy, and we all loved him. One or more of the boys would go with him on summer vacations with their family, and he was always a source of great material.

Woody lived on his boat sometimes, docked in Annapolis, MD. He would work in town for part of the year, and work on the boat in the off hours.

A guy was docked next to him for a while in the mid 70’s, and the guy and his wife were nice folks who seemed traveling around. They were British, and Woody would chat with them from time to time and even have a beer with them.

The guy would often invite Woody to have dinner with them, but it was never quite convenient.

The couple finally left after a while, and the event would have been lost in time, except someone asked Woody if he knew his next door neighbor (at the dock).

Woody said he knew them but had no real idea who they were.

It seems he kept turning down dinner invitations from Graham Kerr, the Galloping Gourmet!

As my oldest son remembers....

In 1973 we went off to Disneyworld, our vacation to Orlando. We took our three boys and my mother. These were in the days before we had air conditioned cars, so it was a bit warm for a drive. However, off we went.

This was the gas crisis! Gas had jumped from $0.29 per gallon to $0.69 per gallon and we were in shock! There were gas lines everywhere. We went to odd and even day rationing to make the lines shorter. It was a real crisis and people had stopped traveling! No one who didn’t have to be there was on the road.

We were almost adventurers!

The little bits I remember were not unusual, great fun with lots of kids and the lines waiting for the rides were pretty good as there were less people to go.

The part that stands out for me was the cost, not the Disney costs which were whatever they were, and not the food because it was normal, but it was lodging that has imprinted in my memory.

We left from Baltimore, and I believe we were only out one night, but that could be wrong. My kids were too young to remember any details except my oldest son remembers well the signs for that store, “South of the Border”. They hearken back to the old “Burma Shave” days.

The motels coming and going were in the neighborhood of $5 for the single (my mother) and $6 for the family. We had no reservations, no discount coupons; we were just one of the few traveling families on the road.

In Orlando, we followed signs for bargains and found the Orlando Howard Johnsons, with a pool. It was $11 for the family and $8 for my mother who had several of our boys sleeping in her room. Each room had two king size beds.

Alsa, there was no free breakfast, however.

April, 2002- A Trip to New Jersey

I wrote this story on May 26 and failed to remember that until right now, as I perused the blog. Old age plays funny tricks on us, but this was bothering me for the last few hours. It's a good one, so for my "regular readers", I'm sorry. I must be running dry. This was my 151st story, although it's not. I've told the damn umbrella theft three times already!


It’s an uneventful 8-hour journey. We’ve prepared ourselves with a lunch and goodies so we won’t have to stop too often. The ride was great, the kids were good and we persevered. We arrived in time. We were met at the door by my mother-in-law telling us that her other daughter and grandson were sleeping, and we needed to be quiet. She screamed this and would have woken the dead.

Next, their neighbors who were there to see the new grandchild, who by this time had woken up from all the noise, followed us in the house. We all gathered in the vestibule, too small to hold us all, and talked to the baby and delivered gifts and swapped stories. There were seven adults, two children and a baby squeezed in to space in between the doorway and the stairwell. There is not much room to move around, as everything at my in-laws is full.

Anyway, the neighbors left and we spent the afternoon talking and playing with the baby. It was fun. We had drinks before dinner and I had much. My mother-in-law had way too much, and she fell twice later that evening. However, she didn’t remember it the next day so it must have been OK.

Our friend the butcher arrived with his 89-year-old mother, who I’ve known for 17 years. She had no idea who I was. It was that kind of an evening.

On Saturday we played around, went shopping and bought toys for the kids and the kids went swimming at the local pool. Then we were going out to dinner.

My in-laws loved this Italian restaurant, but forgot they had no liquor license and you could bring your own. So, I took my father-in-law in my car, after we arrived, for a ride around New Jersey finding a liquor store and bought 3 bottles of wine and returned to the dinner. This took at least 45 minutes.

The food was great but the service was planned for leisurely diners, not people with kids.

My sister-in-law made us go at 6pm because she wanted to feed the baby there. She then fed the baby at 5:15 at home, so we didn’t need to be there early but we were. The place was crowded and we had appetizers and wine and waited.

Finally, after much waiting, the food arrived. It was great, but five minutes into the dinner my sister-in-law asks, “When we were kids, did we have a dysfunctional family?” (as if it wasn’t such now!)

I wanted to leave, but couldn’t stop laughing, my wife was so angry it took three days for it to end, my in-laws were answering and my kids were in wonder. This was not a good scene.

The bathroom door at the restaurant was locked and it never opened. I believed the person inside had succumbed to dinner. It never opened the whole time we were in the restaurant.

We had dessert and coffee, and left for home the next morning.

We left with no packed food, as my wife wanted out quick. We did have some goodies from the butcher in the food box. The kids had lots of toys, and 9 ½ hours later we were home.

We were tired and happy to be home and vowed to not do this again, at least not right away.

Currently, my wife and one daughter are in New Jersey.

A Visit from the Queen

It was 2002, and we were all excited. We had two 6th grade classes and one 5th grade, all with teachers and parents crowded into one bus, going downtown to a large coliseum to see Queen Elizabeth give new colours (flags) to her regiment. She first brought the regiment new colours in 1959, and now she was bringing new stuff.

There were 18,000 people in attendance. Most were veterans of her battalions in Canada, and their families. There were 4,000 tickets for the general public available on a first come, first served basis. I’m not sure how my daughter’s school got them but they did.

We arrived at 12:30, and had entertainment for hours. There were singers, dancers, circus performers and regimental mustering. There was a native blessing that went on for a while, and 15th century ceremonies depicting the battlefield changing of the colours. Then, at about 3:00, there was a ½ hour delay for the Queen’s procession. We did the wave etc. while we waited. The soldiers stood at attention. Finally she arrived, had several ceremonies, made a speech, shook hands with those in her way, got to the car and left.

There was a never ending leaving procedure for the school kids and their buses, as they had way too many buses for seniors and wheel chair veterans, so we had to walk for a mile with all the kids.

It was great fun and we arrived home at 5:00, tired, hungry but everyone had a story to tell their children when they grow up about the day they saw the Queen.

I hope my daughter’s story will be about when she and her father went to see the Queen.