What were they thinking?

SickKids doesn’t care who’s naught and nice… just who’s brave!

First, the pages of the big book flipping in the wind caught my attention. Then, the curtain flapping in the breeze at the open window. It looked a bit haunting in the murky darkness of the room. Then, as the camera zoomed to the book of flipping pages of lists, the voice of the announcer intrigued even more.

“Tradition says there are always two lists,” she said. “A list for the nice. And a list for the naughty. Every year, children all over the world are scribbled down on one side or the other.”

The voiceover went on to say there was one place nearby, however, where children were neither good nor bad. “But rather brave. Courageous children who face the unimaginable. Theirs are the names etched on the brave list!” (more…)

Why giving does us good

Tom Stormonth and Alison Dunn go to any length to support authors and readers. 1000 Islands Book Festival.

That Sunday afternoon just before Christmas, I arrived at the community centre in Mallorytown, in eastern Ontario, for a history talk. Members of the Mallory Coach House heritage group had decorated the hall, set out chairs and prepared refreshments for visitors.

It turned out to be a (pre-COVID) capacity audience. Only I was without an important ingredient for the event. I had none of my books to sell at the end of my talk. Then suddenly, out of the blue, this guy arrived with his car trunk full of my books.

“Tom Stormonth,” he said, “Beggar’s Banquet Books, in Gananoque.”

“That’s a fair hike to here, isn’t it? I asked.

Tom nodded. “Hey, it’s about getting your books out there, right?” And he added, “Merry Christmas.” (more…)

The Invisibles

As “Air Person of the Year” at 8 Wing, CFB Trenton, Sgt. Ashleigh Tucesku admits her work is mostly invisible.

We rarely saw her. But we always saw her handiwork. She came to work at the college where I taught after we’d all left for the day. And when we arrived the next day to resume our tutorials, labs or classroom sessions with students, all those rooms were spick-and-span. Then, one evening when I happened to be working late, I met her – a member of Centennial College’s custodial staff – and I stopped to chat.

“Thanks for all the cleaning you do in our classrooms,” I said.

“You’re welcome,” she said. “Just part of the job.”

“But we never see you. It’s nice to acknowledge what you do.”

“Yes, well, we’re kind of invisible,” she said. (more…)

“Movember” message just in time

… a world unto itself.

It was an odd place for something meaningful to happen. Last Sunday, a bunch of us trudged into the hockey arena from a chilly morning outside. In our dressing room, bags of equipment were tossed on the floor, but nobody was in any hurry to put on hockey gear. Then, for some reason, we got talking about prostate exams. And initially it sparked a predictable response around the room.

“Well, if I was in that position, I wouldn’t want a doctor with long, fat fingers doing the examination,” somebody said. There was some laughter.

“Unless, maybe it was a female physician,” another said in jest.

Oldtimers’ hockey dressing rooms – since the concept of recreational hockey for men and women over the age of 40 began back in the mid-1970s – are a phenomenon unto themselves. (more…)

There just ain’t no show

Historian David O’Keefe and I share stage at Festival Place, Nov. 12. Photo courtesy Jana Semeniuk.

The performance had gone on through a first act. An ensemble of jazz singers had sung their hearts out. A quartet of musicians played with enthusiasm we hadn’t seen in months. Our daughter sat with us watching, listening. The energy in the club seemed electric. Then, in the second act, she was invited to the stage to sing her part in a tribute to American composer Stephen Sondheim. But before singing a single note, Whitney Ross-Barris looked out over a nearly capacity room and paused with a big smile.

“This is just the most exciting thing,” she said, “to be back singing in front of an audience.” (more…)

Remembrance Day – not always about loss

Flags, poppy insignia in front of Uxbridge Fire Hall. 2021.

I’d never seen him so gloomy or depressed. I’ve known Ahmad Golan probably 15 years, certainly most of the time he and his family have lived in town. But on this day, late last summer, when I visited his confectionary store downtown, Ahmad (everybody knows him as Shah) seemed to carry the weight of the world.

“It’s just awful,” he said to me over the counter. “Such a waste.”

The Taliban had taken over his homeland … again, and this time Shah seemed to think Afghanistan might permanently be lost to the insurgents. (more…)

All that’s Jazz

My newfound walking partner – Jazz!

Through most of her professional working life, she was devoted to her students. Planning lessons. Marking papers. Grading. For something like 40 years. But a couple of years ago, Karen retired. Then, the pandemic hit, and suddenly she had plenty of time on her hands. She chose this moment to buy a Golden Retriever puppy. And guess who now has no time except for the dog?

“The Golden is pretty much the counter cleaner,” she told a group of Probus Club meeting I attended this week. “He jumps up and takes whatever he wants. I’m pretty much a dog-sitter 24/7.” (more…)

Corporate profits versus union protection

Among the best eateries in Baltimore, Maryland – the Double-T Diner.

Most evenings you’d see her as you entered the restaurant. Six or seven nights a week, my aunt met customers at the front door of the Double-T Diner in Baltimore, Md., with the warmest, most genuine smile ever. On the job, Virginia always dressed appropriately – hair neat as a pin, makeup just right and clothing not a thread out of place. She was the best restaurant hostess (she preferred that title herself) I ever knew.

“You never know who might arrive,” she told me. “Best to be prepared.” (more…)

Bredin’s Bakery – more missing than the name

Bredin’s Bakery during Uxbridge’s recent sign-wars campaign.

They had just finished sprucing up the shop. Walls and trim were freshly painted. They’d replaced some shelving and hung a vintage photograph of family ancestor, Greg Bredin’s dad, who’d originated the business. And probably best of all, they’d re-framed and re-hung some of their favourite bakery puns.

“Sorry for being flakey,” one read after they remodelled. “We’ve been procrusti-baking.”

Some of their slogans were also strategically placed around the bakery counters and display cases, including, “Have you tried a Bredin donut? If not, we understand. They sell out within an hour and a half every Saturday.” (more…)

What a book cover can uncover

Klaus Keast found mentor on my book cover.

He is a veteran. He is the grandson of a veteran. As important to me as anything, however, Klaus Keast, a total stranger, has found a connection that’s brought us together unexpectedly. He recently wrote me an email requesting an autographed copy of my 2019 book Rush to Danger, about military medics. But in addition, he asked if I could acknowledge the military service of his mentor.

“He (was) a Jewish medic, who not only served in WWII,” Keast wrote, “but he also had to fight to be involved in the war effort when initially refused by (anti-Semitic) recruiters.” (more…)