Would it fit in Santa’s bag?

Nova Scotia’s famous pond where hockey was born. Globe and Mail.

The big day is less than three weeks away. We’ve had plenty of snow (if a bit tamped down by this week’s rain) to keep things reasonably white until Dec. 25. All over town, homes have sparkled with flashing or cascading lights (and some with gaudy decorations) since we switched back to Eastern Standard Time in early November. And yet I’m still having trouble coming up with the right gift for some of my friends and family.

Me? I’ve found what I want for Christmas. I learned about it in the Globe and Mail a couple of weeks ago.

“A pond at the heart of hockey,” the story was headlined. “Nova Scotia property claims a historic tie to Canada’s game.”

And it’s for sale! (more…)

What makes a kid’s summer?

My sister Kate  and I got an introduction to cottage life at the Globe and Mail cottages on Lake Erie in the mid-1950s.

I might have dismissed the email, but the subject line caught my attention. “A Quick Past Memory,” it said. A fellow named Bryan Graham contacted me this past week to remind me that his dad and mine had known each other on the job 60 years ago. He explained that he’d tripped over my name in a military newsletter and decided to get in touch to tell me about our families’ connection.

“My father, Al Graham, was a district manager in Waterloo for the Globe and Mail in the mid-1950s,” Bryan explained.

Of course, since my father Alex had worked as a reporter and then columnist for the Globe back then, I took a bit more time reading his note.

“The Globe and Mail owned a property on the shores of Lake Erie with 12 wooden, very basic cottages and a small recreation building,” Bryan continued. “I’m confident our families spent a summer or two there together in the ’50s.” (more…)

Centre of our world

Agincourt Rec Centre fire. 680 News photo.

As soon as I heard about the multi-alarm fire at the Agincourt Recreation Centre, I paid attention for a number of reasons. Like a number of us in this part of Ontario, that particular rec centre is a familiar one. But I also wondered about the loss of a community’s vital organ. I caught the reports as firefighters continued to battle the blaze, and watched some of the residents in the area reacting to the fire. One reporter talked to a young boy.

“All the things we do in there,” the boy told Global News. “Now us kids won’t have that anymore.” (more…)

Curb-onomics

One man’s trash…

It just looked like a pile of paper from the outside. And I guess because it was paper, it sort of weighed a lot. But the plastic bag I used to haul all that paper to the curb had probably previously hauled groceries from a local store so it could take the weight. And if you looked inside that bag, you’d have seen a number of famous people – John F. Kennedy, Winston Churchill and the Apollo 11 astronauts – all captured on the front pages of old newspapers with headlines such as:

“Kennedy Assassinated,” lamented the Globe and Mail in 1963.

“Churchill Mourned,” announced the Toronto Star in 1965.

“Man Steps On The Moon,” read the Toronto Telegram on July 21 1969. And the newsprint of the Tely, some of you will remember, was coloured pink! (more…)

As safe as … a game of hockey

In a hundred years of hockey in Canada, kids and skates and pucks belong together.

It didn’t matter how early on a Saturday, he still came with me. Even if he’d worked half the night getting his last newspaper column of the week finished at the Globe and Mail, and even if we played the first game of the day at 6 a.m., my dad was always there. He helped me tie my skates, made sure my Butch Goring helmet was in place, and sent me onto the ice to play house-league hockey. I felt secure too, seeing him at the end of the outdoor arena, through the chain-link fence, cheering us on.

“Go, Agincourt, go,” I heard him shout between puffs on his cigarette.

Having a parent take me to the rink felt supremely comforting. And, as I remember, we had a couple of coaches – volunteers – who made sure we had sticks, pucks and jerseys. It was always reassuring to have those familiar people there for us. A virtual security blanket. (more…)

Locked into vinyl

As background to where and when I work, a favourite LP on my retro turntable.

It happens about 15 minutes and 30 seconds in. It’s happens after the flugelhorn introduction from the leader of the band, Chuck Mangione. It follows the entry of the full Rochester Philharmonic Orchestra and the spontaneous applause. Just about the time soprano sax player Gerry Niewood comes in. Right in there, kind of unexpectedly, there’s this short stutter in the recording. No, not in the recording, but in my pressed version of it.

“It’s a locked groove,” I once explained to my daughters, “an imperfection in the pressing of the vinyl disc.” (more…)

Precarious or preferred?

1930 Lewis Hine photograph depicting "skywalkers," steelworkers atop Empire State Building, is often used to symbolize "precarious work."
1930 Lewis Hine photograph – depicting “skywalkers,” steelworkers atop Empire State Building – is often used to symbolize “precarious work.”

We hadn’t seen each other in awhile. We stopped to catch up. My friend told me it had been a tough summer. His father had passed. He’d had to put a favourite pet down. So, his work as an artist had suffered. We’re about the same age and we talked about whether the idea of stopping work or even retirement had entered his thinking. He pointed out, while it might be appropriate and healthy to slow down or even retire, that it wasn’t feasible.

“I can’t just decide to stop working,” he said. “Working artists can’t afford to do that.”

We talked a while about what retirement might look like for him. He sensed that he might do more work of his own choosing, as opposed to the work that customers needed or wanted done. But ultimately we came back to the kind of work life he experiences.

“Freelance work never stops,” he said. (more…)

A time of evil

Dalton Trumbo's smile was deceiving given the prejudice he endured.
Dalton Trumbo’s smile was deceiving given the prejudice he endured.

I watched an entertaining and important movie at The Roxy Theatre in Uxbridge this past week. It reminded me of a very scary time in the world. It made me wince at the lunacy of the fear mongering. It saddened me to think that people lost their careers (and in some cases their lives) for their political views in a democratic country … in my lifetime. The hero of the story, Dalton Trumbo, summed it up late in the movie.

“No one on either side (of this feud) who survived it, came through untouched,” he said. “The blacklist was a time of evil.” (more…)

Add water and stir imagination

Flooding a backyard ice rink the old-fashioned way.
Flooding a backyard ice rink the old-fashioned way.

It was like that 1981 movie, “Cannonball Run,” in which a bunch of fast-car addicts get a telephone call and immediately drop what they’re doing to join a cross-country auto race. Well, even if you don’t know the movie, suffice to say a couple of Saturdays ago I got a phone call from one of my hockey pals to assemble a work party.

“My house,” Mike MacDonald texted, “about 10 a.m.”

When I first arrived at Mike’s place, just after 10, nobody was there. But within seconds several of Mike’s neighbours, Kirk Buchanan, Scott Clayworth, Jamie Steele and Jim Sproxton emerged from their homes and converged on Mike’s garage. In seconds, they’d rolled up the door and were rifling through a pile of wood in the garage. Since this was my first time, I just offered to assist. (more…)

A writer life

Kayla Czaga at a poetry reading.
Kayla Czaga at a poetry reading.

Her name is Kayla Czaga. She’s a young Canadian poet. And last Saturday night during a gala, I attended in Winnipeg, her peers announced she’d won the annual Gerald Lampert Award… Don’t be embarrassed if you’ve never heard of her or the prize. It was awarded by the League of Canadian Poets at the first ever joint conference of the LCP and its new sister association, The Writers’ Union of Canada, of which I’m a member. In fact, she commented on the new relationship between the LCP and TWUC.

“I want to thank this big, new, strange family,” she said. And the 200 or so writers present – poets, novelists, short story writers and non-fiction writers – all laughed and applauded in appreciation. (more…)