Saturday, December 15, 2018

ROBBLOG #759- An Angel Earns His Wings

Holiday Note: I woke up early a few mornings ago and this story started to play out in my mind. I was even able to remember most of he dialogue when I got up a few hours later.
Huh...Not bad for an "older person".
Anyhoo, it may be the start of a new movement or religion even...or not. Enjoy this fable from my very own brain...or wherever such things come from.

3:16 a.m.

Roger watched the clock next to his bedside tick ever so slowly forward. Why was he feeling so restless? Why would his much-needed sleep not come?

Roger's Hubby- Timothy, had opted for the couch this night. He had a bit of cold starting and he didn't want to pass it on to Roger.
Roger was such a cow when he had a cold. The separation was worth it. Timothy knew it. Roger knew it.

Roger fidgeted in the bed rolling this was and that way. He counted from one hundred backwards.
He sang softly to himself and wrote the word sleep with his index finger in the darkness above his head.
His stomach was anxious. He didn't know why because everything was good. The Holidays were here. The tree was decorated and most- not all, most of the gifts were bought. So, what's the big deal?

He rolled over for the one thousandth time. Holding his eyes tightly shut.
That's when he saw it behind his eyelids.
Bright, white light.
He peeked between his long eyelashes. Yes it was light and it was coming from a central source.
Roger opened his tired eyes fully and there standing at the end of the brass bed was a figure. A golden light source. Dare he say it- an Angel?
He saw wings.
This is possibly a real, honest to goodness Angel right here in my bedroom, hovering at the foot of my bed.

Suddenly, the golden apparition spoke to him:
"I am an angel of the heavenly host and I come to tell you something this December night."

Roger sat up and batted his eyes.
"Tell me something?" Roger started to get huffy.
"I mean who are you to come into my bedroom in all this white light- while I am trying to sleep I might add, wanting to have a chat or something?"

The angel looked away from the pad where he was scribbling away with a golden pencil in smooth, white fingers- "Right. Like you were sleeping..."

"I was at least trying."- Roger growled, "Anyway, who are you and what are you doing floating above the end of my bed like that and by the way are you a man or a woman? You've got some pretty dainty hands there for a man. Dainty hands but very bare, muscular legs and- dare I say, thighs under that pair of shorty jammies you're wearing"
The Angel rolled his eyes and slid the pad and pencil in a pocket in the glimmering shift he was adorned in.

"Yes, I'm a man and yes I have smallish hands. These are not jammies- it's a shorty-gown. And not that you're asking but I happen to have very large, athletic feet for an Angel of my stature."

"Girlishly short hands and big feet! Is that a winning combo in Heaven or wherever you just flew in from?"

"Look, Roger..."

"Oh she knows my name! I'm impressed!"

He sighs..."Look Roger. My Mother had smallish hands and my Uncle Flavius too, so just....Hmmmm. Gosh, I never, ever thought of that connection before..."

"Look do I have to stay awake while you go over your  family tree and who your Mother schtuped?"

The Angel scowled. "Never mind. To the business at hand. I am a member of the Heavenly Host and I come to bring you some great news?"

"Like the price of gas is going down?"

"No!" The Angel was beginning to become flustered.

"So what's your name anyhow?"

"Oh! Yes. Sorry. Gabriel."

"Gabriel. Not too much of a stretch for your Mother. Been an angel long Gabe?"

"It's Gabriel. Gabriel Stanley Augustus. I've had wings entire life. One gets born into this Angelic Lineage and you?"

"Well, as you can see I am NOT an Angel and I live here in this comfy three bedroom home with a double car garage and huge backyard with my husband Timothy. Say Gabey.."


"Gay...ummm- are big wings a big thing up there or over there in Heaven like a pee-pee is here on earth?"

"Oh, now that's mature from someone on my list I've been directed to visit with some good news.."

"You said 'great news' I believe."

"Real Mature Roger." The Angel takes a deep breath. "So, you're asking if the size of one's wings relates to the size of one's penis here on earth. Is that right?"

"Well. Yes. If you were headed in that direction." Roger brought his knees into his chest and hugged them with both arms and listened intently.

"I wasn't!" spat the Angel named Gabriel, "However since you are asking, there is a correlation there to be sure."

"Ah-Hah!" Roger was getting blustery. "So Big Wings. Big Penis. Wow!"

The Angels flapped his wings gently.
"Are you through?" He looked at Roger with pursed lips.

"Yes...Look Gage, do you want to know how big my ~ahem~ wings are?"
The Angel hovered and shook his pretty head. Roger once again noticed the musculature of its legs.

Pausing referring to his notes, the Angel tried to look dis-interested....
After a few moments he speaks:
"Oh sorry, I tend to lose focus when a human goes on and on about themselves. It's a naughty habit but it is a useful one."

"I'll say. So what do you want? Are you bringing me The First Nowell- second in this case possibly- and where's the rest of your haughty-taughty hosts?"

"The Heavenly Hosts? Oh well...they're there." He motions. "Here. I mean I could call them at any moment but they're doing a Christmas Concert on Cloud Twenty-Two tonight and they'd be pissed if I brought them down here from that..."

"Language Gabe. Language. Well, I wouldn't want to be the reason for something like that. Now, um, could we get on with what you want to say in a Nowell or otherwise? I might try for sleep again."

"Yes, well good luck after this message from above but here it is in a nutshell. I have flown down to earth to meet you and to see you to tell you that you are about to be with child."

"What? Are you nuts? I'm a man. I can't have kids!"

The Angel is clearly flustered. His wings tapping lightly together in a one, two cha cha cha kind of beat. He gathers his thoughts quickly, looks at Roger, now leaning back against a trio of pillows and explains in a forthright manner-
"I've heard that before! Oh boo-hoo I'm a Virgin, I can't have a child or I'm too old to have a kid or I don't have an extra room for a nursery. It goes on and on. Look. Roger. Sweetheart. I am here. I have a pill and that's all there is to it. Well, a magic pill really..."

"A fucking magic pill? To do what with and to whom?"

"The angel smiled a wide, angelic smile. To take this tiny pill I have in my "girlish" fingers and shove it- this tiny pill, up your pipe so you become pregnant and become "with child" before the morning light."

"Are you sure you're not looking for Nancy Goldstein? She lives next door with her parents."

"Nancy Goldstein is only 12 years old. Don't be ridiculous Roger!."

"Who are you- Santa Claus, anyway, it worked the first time Gawd Damn time didn't it?!"

"Potty mouth! Anyway, it was a different time!"

"You mean there were no laws. Oh and by the way, you're Angel hovering at the end of my bed and you call me the ridiculous one! That's rich!"

"Look. Just shut up and roll over. Don't make me use Angel Force!"
The Angel's light was shining brighter somehow and his wings flapped faster. Roger could clearly see the muscles undulating beneath the shortie PJ's.

"So what do I get out of all this? eh?"
Roger had a point.

Gabriel hovered and had a think. The tiny white pill held tightly in the palm of his hand-
"Well how about a man having a baby?"

"Men have had babies before Gabe!"

"Ahhh. But not inside their body! It'll be a miracle!"

Roger's mouth fell open. Timothy and he wanted kids but both thought they were past the post.

"You're not past the post...yet!"- Gabriel offered.

"Of course I'm not. I keep telling Tim... WAIT! Did you just read my mind?"
The Angel nodded and smiled another wide, angelic, all-knowing smile.
"Holy Fucking mind-fuck!"

"Yes, it might be considered that without all the groaning and sweating you people get involved with."

"Will I remember this? Will there be a stable and shepherds? Will I travel on an ass..."

"Look. Roger. You are an ass already! Now take the pill. I got to fly. Hah! Hah! Cracks me up when I get to say that..."

"You're a real stand-up Gay!" The Angel still tittered and tee hee'd while Roger had a think. Good Gawd, he'd be famous. He's have money. Timothy would be proud. They'd have a kid.

"OKAY! YES! Stick your pill where the sun don't shine Gabey!"

"Oye! Humans. Entertaining, queer bunch of beings." He just realized what he said- "No offence Roger!"

"Non taken"- says Roger. Now just do it..."

"Done." says Gabriel.

"Done? I didn't feel a thing!"

"Didn't have to. I am an Angel you know."

"Yes Gabe, but was it good for you?.. and if you light a cigarette. I'll scream!"

Gaberiel motioned with both hands- come see, some saw..

"Bitch!" thought Roger.

"I know"- answered Gabriel. "Well Toots, I must run."

"Toots?" Roger scratched the boys in an efficient scratch.

" Listen Roger, it's been a Holiday Hoot. Have a good life and I might "swing" on by to check on you from time to time- if that's okay?"

"Sure." Roger was beginning to take it all in. "You'll want to meet Timothy I presume."

"Of course." The Angel flapped his golden wings in preparation to depart. "This isn't going to be easy for you two you know. You have to get Timothy on board and then dealing with all those sheep at the stable. Boy! I'm glad it's you and not me..."

"Howz that?" Roger was alert now. "How is this all going to come to pass anyway?"

Gabriel looked down at Roger for a final time.
"I dunno but check under a cabbage leaf or look for a huge stork circling your house. Oh and Roger..."


"It'll all work out. I have it on highest authority and I am an authority when it comes to a child being born. Later Dude."
And he was up and away and the light returned to darkness.

Roger flicked on the bedside lamp. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Slipped his feet into his fuzzy slippers and ran to the living room to tell Timothy. It was going to be a Merrier Christmas than either had imagined.

Now he knew he could sleep in heavenly peace- or at least try taking a sleeping pill.

Tuesday, December 11, 2018

ROBBLOG #758- It's the Holiday Season

It's the Holiday Season!

Bells, Christmas Trees, Scrooges, Virginia asking the perennial question- (Is there a Santa?)
coffee on the Muskoka Chairs in December Island Sunshine.
You know. The normal things we all do at Christmas.
What's that you say?
You can't enjoy a coffee outside without freezing off your "bits".
You must live in Ontario or some other "wintry" province.
Okay, enough of that now.
Sorry but there are times I just can't help myself. Heh. Heh.

I saw a tweet on twitter yesterday from Arlene Dickenson. She used to be on that show that gave money to inventors. They were millionaires. The hosts not the investors.  Anyhoo, she posted this picture of an ice rink and made some comment that this is what Canadians are doing these days.
Ah...Not all Canadians I said to her in a re-tweet.
Palms and green grass on Vancouver Island.
She hasn't answered me back yet.
Probably thinks I'm an idiot. or she's never been to Vancouver Island and the Cowichan Valley.
Like I said, at times I can't help myself.


An old friend got in touch the other day.
Sister Mary Margaret by name.
Remember her? All for Nun. The Church of Little Hope. All for Nun- The 2nd Coming.

Some would say Sister Mary Margaret is a loud-mouthed Nun born in Ireland and raised in Newfoundland. What a combination!
She wanted to tell me that she's back- not on the stage yet, however, somehow she's figured out cameras lighting and sound and has posted a video- the first of many or so she claims.
You can check it out on the Double R Productions Facebook Page.
Google it.
She also says she has a twitter account at: @SisterMMargaret
It's Christmas and I did a good think telling you about this video.

Speaking of Nuns, two Nuns "borrowed" $500,000 from their Diocese recently and flew to Las Vegas to play a few slot machines. They were found out.
It will be interesting to see what happens.
How refreshing.
Two Nuns getting away for a fun weekend as opposed to the normal news about Priests diddling kiddies.
They should be lauded and applauded.
Good one ladies. I'm sure Sister MM will make a comment in a follow-up video.

Holiday plans are shaping up.
We are having a few folks dropping by to say "Happy Holidays" in the days leading up to Christmas. So far, we have no Christmas Eve or Christmas Day guests.
Not for lack of trying.
We had hoped that a person or two from back in old home would be able to come west for a Yuletide visit but that's not happening it seems.

Oh the Mister and I are not lonely by any means. In fact we know quite a lot of folks here on the Island. We even get honked at as we walk along the streets.
We always wave- even if we don't recognize the vehicle. Sometimes we only see a hand waving through lightly-tinted windshield glass.
Then, a few days later someone will say- hey that was me driving past you!
Who knew?

Well, better get onto to other things- like baking.
The Mister and I are doing a bit of Holiday Baking for our Holiday Soiree. Nothing too fancy. Just regular stuff, although he's doing his famous "Pine Tree House" Squares.

Now that says Christmas!

Monday, December 10, 2018

ROBBLOG #757 A Little Charity My Dears

Ah...the Holidays.

Palm Trees covered in a light frost. Green Grass. Cordyline plants glistening in the sunshine.
Wreaths on doors and fireworks in the air.
At least, that's a west coast, island Christmas.

I wonder if Old Ebeneezer would have like it?

Nasty as he is and was, old Scrooge- along with the Ghosts who visited his humble domicile, have certainly played a prominent part in our Holiday Celebrations. Once he re-invented himself he was referred to as being “a better man than any old man in any old town or city anywhere!”
I would expect that goes for the Ladies in town too.

I've watched many versions of A Christmas Carol over the years and no matter which one I view, it gets me to thinking about people that continue to stir the pot of gruel when there should be joy and peace. 

Cripes, I even stir the pot myself now and then.
You? I hear you say.
I know- right?
That's hard to believe but there are times that I am nothing more than a grouchy old senior citizen.

Sometimes, it is unavoidable. As Bob Cratchit once remarked to Mrs. Cratchit over a flaming Christmas pudding -“My Dear, have some Charity!”
Only this time it's the Mister playing Mrs. Cratchit without the turned ribbons.
He may not say "have some charity". These days it's "watch your blood pressure Dear."

It may be directed at someone in line behind you at Canadian Tire. Someone who steals your parking spot Downtown or those among us who need to spread benevolence instead of ill-will. It's not easy getting through the Christmas Season without a few blips on the Holiday Grid. There can be friction in relationships- conjured up years ago, that still rots away at our hearts a bit more every Christmas.

There are friends who continue to think the worst of you and seem to forget the best of you.
I- of all people, understand that it's not easy to forgive- even at this most forgiving time of year. I read a quote years ago. It said:
“People come into your life randomly and they leave randomly.”

I thought it was simple- but well said. It can be difficult to lose those who pass on to the next level of enlightenment and leave us behind. Life sucks but it keeps moving forward. Death happens to us all sooner or later. Saying goodbye to friends- human, canine or feline, who have been spirited away to another dimension is just a part of life. It’s something we can't control.

Disagreements and misunderstandings happen to everyone. However if there is one time in the year where Goodwill prevails, it is the Christmas Season- upon the cusp of where we now stand. If Ebenezer Scrooge can see the light, then there's hope for us all. Love breeds hope but putting things right is a difficult “Holiday Path” to tread.

If you do decide to mend a fence or two, what's the very least than could happen? A brick or two might crumble in the wall that lies between you and someone else. “Passing on” is the final brick in the wall. There's no making amends when that final brick is mortared into place. So be aware.
You do have to be prepared to let things go however.
That is hard for me at time, I will admit.
I always joke- I don't get mad, I get even.
Ooops, my litty claws are showing.

Letting thinhs go.  There’s nothing wrong with moving on. If you do attempt to make things right, sometimes, no matter how sincere an orchestrated, heartfelt apology is offered, some situations cannot be reversed and shouldn’t be. At this point refer back to “people leaving randomly”. You still have memories of the good times and like the song says- “they can't take that away from me.”

As for Scrooge, at least he eventually saw the light and from that we all can take heart and let Christmas Joy prevail.

Bless us, Every One- in a non-religious, Humanist loving way of course.

Thursday, December 6, 2018

ROBBLOG #756-Twelve Wishes...Again

I was looking back over some Holiday Blogs from years ago. The Twelve Wishes of Christmas
is from 2009. 

Interesting what I wished for.  Money was important then and is today- especially living on a fixed income as the Mister and I are- to be sure.

Speaking of a fixed income, the Federal Liberal Party called me the other day. 
No, it wasn't Justin in person on the line.
Why is it folks on the phone who work for call centres and are calling other folks for money and stuff always have a very hard accent to understand? This lady was Jamaican and read to me very carefully from a prepared script.

She tried exceedingly hard to get me to donate 30 bucks a month.
I said- "I donate when I can."
Then she added- "Well, there is also twenty, fifteen or ten dollar monthly donations."
I replied- "As I said, I donate when I can and besides- I'm a Senior and living on a fixed income!"
Never thought I'd use that excuse- and so often too, in many situations. Again, there's billions of dollars for this and that in this country but what about a few more bucks for the Baby Boomer Seniors who don't want to eat Cat Food seven days a week!

So, my 12 Wishes of Christmas are here below. I think they still stand as written.

The Twelve Wishes of Christmas

On the first day of Christmas my one true wish would be:
a lotto win for little old me

On the second day of Christmas another wish would be 2 million dollars-
from the lotto win for little old me.

On the third day of Christmas another wish would be:
3 French Butlers,
Two Million dollars-
From the lotto wish for little old me.

On the fourth day of Christmas another wish would be:
Four German Bratwurst,
3 French Butlers,
Two Million dollars-
From the lotto wish for little old me.

On the fifth day of Christmas another wish would be:
Five ruby roses,
Four German Bratwurst,
3 French Butlers,
Two Million dollars-
From the lotto wish for little old me.

On the sixth day of Christmas another wish would be:
6 days of sunshine,
Five ruby roses,
Four German Bratwurst,
3 French Butlers,
Two Million dollars-
From the lotto wish for little old me.

On the seventh say of Christmas another wish would be:
Seven Hawaiian Vacations,
6 days of sunshine,
Five ruby roses,
Four German Bratwurst,
3 French Butlers,
Two Million dollars-
From the lotto wish for little old me.

On the eighth day of Christmas another wish would be:
A homestead in the country,
Seven Hawaiian Vacations,
6 days of sunshine,
Five ruby roses,
Four German Bratwurst,
3 French Butlers,
Two Million dollars-
From the lotto wish for little old me.

On the ninth day of Christmas another wish would be:
Peace for every country,
Seven Hawaiian Vacations,
6 days of sunshine,
Five ruby roses,
Four German Bratwurst,
3 French Butlers,
Two Million dollars-
From the lotto wish for little old me.

On the tenth day of Christmas another wish would be:
For no bigots in the world,
Peace for every country,
Seven Hawaiian Vacations,
6 days of sunshine,
Five ruby roses,
Four German Bratwurst,
3 French Butlers,
Two Million dollars-
From the lotto wish for little old me.

On the Eleventh day of Christmas another wish would be:
Feeding all the hungry,
For no bigots in the world,
Peace for every country,
Seven Hawaiian Vacations,
6 days of sunshine,
Five ruby roses,
Four German Bratwurst,
3 French Butlers,
Two Million dollars-
From the lotto wish for little old me.

On the Twelfth day of Christmas my final wish would be:
For all my wishes to come true,
Feeding all the hungry,
For no bigots in the world,
Peace for every country,
Seven Hawaiian Vacations,
6 days of sunshine,
Five ruby roses,
Four German Bratwurst,
3 French Butlers,
Two Million dollars-
From the lotto wish for little old me. 

Monday, December 3, 2018

ROBBLOG #755- I'm Ready For My Lights Mr. DeMille

Beware pre-lit Holiday Trees.

The warning is not unlike that placed before Caesar centuries ago.
Beware the Ides of March.

Don't speed up the Island Highway either but mostly beware the Ides.
Here in the Holiday Season in the year of the Big Guy 2018- who may or may not be real based on whether you do or do not believe in fairy tales, I now say to you "Beware of items of Christmas that are decorated with strings of pre-lit lights."

It all started a few years back when I bought an outdoor artificial tree in a pot and in a box from Costco. Pre-lit with 200 lights and stuck in a decorative pot. Computer says "What's not to like?
It looked quite pretty and just a simple plug-in installation for instant gratification.
It was reasonably priced. 
It would save time so-
I took it home.
I removed the tree from the box. Plugged it in and voila- instant light.

That lasted for a few weeks until one evening 100 lights went dark. I tried everything.
I replaced a bulb or two. I jiggled strings- and I swore.
Nothing worked.
I swore again- Cheese and Crackers!!

Finally, in desperation, I removed all the lights. A mighty big job. The strings must have been wound round the branches by a machine somewhere in mainland China where the tree was made.
They were tightly wrapped and it took longer to unwind and remove the blinking lights than the entire process of buying the tree, removing it from its cardboard container and plugging it in- combined!

A few years later, I was cursed with the same problem.
Geeze and Ice!
I had plugged in a wire reindeer lit with clear LED lights and half of the bulbs didn't work. I jiggled a cord and replaced a bulb and the string finally sparked to life.
Holiday luck!

Then, another dark, unlit cloud appeared.
The following year, I bought two Canada Geese from Wal*Mart. They were constructed of white wire and each was wrapped in a hundred LED mini-lights. I just had to take them from the box and plug them in.
How delightful!
One goose was fine but the gander- designed with wings spread wide as if it's about to take flight, not so much. The body was well-lit but the wings were dark. 
*;*^%$ !!!
Before we moved to the Island in 2017 I gave the geese to a happy neighbour.
I can hear them cursing all the way out here on the Island.

Move forward a year or two...
I decided to set up one of a half dozen artificial spruce trees I had in storage. This particular tree was bought well after Boxing Day a few years ago. I bought it for 10 bucks. It was pre-lit with 400 lights and I had only used it twice if memory serves.
I dragged it into the house from the garage, took the bottom portion from the storage box and carefully folded the branches down.
I plugged it in.
It worked.

Next, I took the middle section out of the big, brown tree box.
Repeated the process and there was light!
Finally the top of the tree.
I folded down the branches and "fluffed" them. By the way, that's the term one uses when setting up a fake tree and pulling down the branches.
One "fluffs" the branches so the tree looks alive and life-like. 
The same technique is used in the porn industry when the young men can't ~ahem~ rise to the occasion. Do NOT ask me how I know that is called fluffing but I do know a large peacock feather is used. You know, the kind once stuck into those Robin Hood type hats they sold at the Exhibition back in the early 1960's.

OK. It's not a peacock feather but you get the idea!
Fluffing completed, I plugged it in.
I jiggled some lights.
Dark on top, yet the bottom two thirds of the tree sparkled away.
I was ready to spit! No amount of fluffing would have made this stiff little problem go away.

With a minimum of swearing and a maximum of deep breaths, I took the tree apart.
Placed it in it's box.
Taped it closed and put it in the "Take to Goodwill pile".

Now, one would think all my bad light-luck was behind me.
Well, one would be wrong.
I brought in a slender slim-line tree next. 
200 lights. 
I plugged it in.
Mother Fudrucker's Farm!!
One set is dark.
I can't %;%$$%# believe it!

Calmly, I walked to the kitchen.
I opened the junk drawer and took out a pair of needle-nosed pliers.
I returned to the tree and cut the string of offending lights in 3 or 4 places.
I RIPPED them from the branches and threw the pile of wire and mis-firing lights into the garbage.
Now that felt good!
I smiled a sneer-like Grinchy smile.
Jim Carry would be proud.

Off I went upstairs and dug deep in my special Christmas cupboard.
I took out a new box of 100 mini lights and returned to wrap the tree. 
Easy as mincemeat pie!
I plugged them in and there was light!
Miracle of Miracles!
Santa- I believe!

Dear Readers, there is indeed a morale to this story.
Oh, nothing poetic just a caution when one purchases a pre-lit anything:

"Darkness lurks amid the presence of light."

Tuesday, November 27, 2018

ROBBLOG #754- Radio Daze

I do feel sorry for all those Oshawa, Ontario Autoworkers who may be out of a job when the General Motors plant closes next year.

How many thousands of people will be unemployed? A major downturn for the City of Oshawa and area and I know because I lived next door in Pickering once upon a time and worked in Radio in Oshawa- two stations, as well as Durham at CHOO Country Radio.
It was a lifetime ago but GM was an integral part of the community.

GM was everything and Gawd help you if you drove a Ford or a non-Canadian made car. You'd get the middle finger salute when stopped at a light while driving down Taunton Road. My friend Lynda who also worked at these statiuons had a non GM car and she always spoke of rude encounters of the GM kind.

Now, I read that the PM and even Ontario Premier Doug Ford- who only got 40% of the vote and won a majority, are getting all talky-talky trying to save jobs.

I know that's big and I am little but no one from any government tried to save my radio job the day I walked into a Manager's Office at a radio station and asked-
"How come I'm not on the schedule for next week?"
The Manager looked up from his desk for a minute and said-
"Because I don't have anything for you."
He looked back down at his desk and continued to do what he was doing.
I walked out.
That was almost my radio goodbye

No one cared that I was without a job.
Apparently there was no money and no room at the inn.
A government department didn't infuse money into that station so I could keep my job or new jobs could be made.
Not at all.
I was on a contract and because I was over the magic age of 50, nobody in radio wanted me.
Sad, eh?

These are my very own Online Stations broadcasting today.
Check out or look to the right of this Blog
Just a couple of weeks ago a Toronto station's entire morning and afternoon show was canned. An Edmonton morning show in the same chain also let go. That's the way in Radio. Over the years I made it through two such cuts.
It's not easy to find a new job in radio but no government department stepped in with an infusion of cash or help either.

I did work at one other station afterwards but that only lasted another year or so because youngsters would work for less than an "older" man- namely me and I got pushed around. Actually pushed closer to the door.
I didn't make a great wage to begin with and there was no pension. That's something that I tell young folks who ask about going into broadcasting today.
There's no security and plan for your future retirement.

I did work at another station that was the reason Orillia, Ontario got a second FM station a few years back. It was because of a guy named Nick who started a station without going through all the "proper" channels. He was legal- sort of, until area stations complained. The big boys knew the little station was getting listeners. Nick wanted a community station so very badly. Finally, the CRTC said he had to shut down and apply through proper channels. He did and several more did. I was at the CRTC hearings and Nick lost. A company that already had several stations won.
Fuck the little guy.

So, that was really my last terrestrial station.
It was in the next year that I started Swisssh- almost 12 years ago now, from a home studio and eventually Starlite.
How long will these stations last?
I don't honestly know but they both survived the moved to the Island and right now they are both in the Holiday Mood.

Am I getting rich?
I don't get a dime.
I pay my own way with servers and my yearly SOCAN fees for music.

If I had a few hundred thousand, I'd even consider hiring a voice or two. Going "live" on air more and maybe even making a difference with my style of radio.
I am proud of both of my stations and you know what?
I did it all by myself with a little technical help from Charles and help from other radio friends- like Heather and Don who were also displaced long the way.

If Justin is reading this or any other Government-type person and you've got a few thousand dollars laying stuffed in a drawer, you can cut me a cheque today or drop off the drawer's contents.

I'd be ever so glad and thankful.

Monday, November 26, 2018

ROBBLOG #753- Medical Mayhem..sort of

Holy Shit!
I need a new headshot!

I'll work on that. This one above is not exactly recent but it'll do.
I don't have a photographer here on the island. Maybe I'll try for a selfie one day- when I feel I look younger.

Anyhoo, I am not here to write about headshots.
First off, I do apologize if I don't get a lot of new stuff on here at times. I know it's been a week now but last week I had two blogs posted within days so, give me some credit.
I am happy that folks read these blogs and insinuate I don't write enough.
Cripes it's better than telling me to shut my pie hole!

So, today my Dears, a tale of hospitals.
First off- I hate hospitals.
I do.
They have sick people inside.
Hospitals smell like insoles that have been in forgotten in a pair of black rubber boots sitting down under the cellar steps for years.

I have been at our local Cowichan General once before- in emergency no less. Not to worry.
I did survive that experience. Hated it but survived.
Ever noticed just how many sick people hospitals have all over the place and why do guerneys filled with soiled linen always get wheeled by me?
I guess it's all part of the daily routine of having people in rooms and wheeled about in beds who are not so much on the well side.

Anyway, today I had to go to get hooked up to this machine for 24 hrs.
Oh, I am home now away from the smells and airless corridors and the soled linen being wheeled past. This gadget that will be a part of me for 24 hours. It works while I go about my normal day measuring how pissed off I get at hospitals- among other things!
Now, I don't expect to die right away. I am really hoping for another three decades- if I can still walk, talk, pee and dress myself.

The problem at present is my freeking blood pressure. It's not enough that I take drugs for high cholesterol- something I never dreamed I would have.
High cholesterol is like getting an early Christmas Gift- like a fucking tie.

Now, when Doctor Kate took my pressure in her office a couple of weeks ago. I could see in my peripheral vision that she wasn't pleased.
It was a look of "Cripes! That's high" or "Are you kidding me Rob?"
Now listen, I have white coat syndrome even though Dr. Kate was not wearing a white lab coat at the time. I knew I'd be up there like a rocket on the First of July!!

So, I had choices and I took door number three.
A trip to the hospital.
Now look. I know these folks work hard and are tired and possibly overworked but I didn't force them to work in the medical field.
Cripes on a Cracker, I mean, I am not familiar with this end of hospital, the staff, or this fucking machine I am hooked up to.

I took the stairs to the third floor from the lobby and trying to hold my breath, I wandered a couple of hallways until I saw little black and white signs that said ECG.
Maybe they said EGG.
I dunno. I didn't have my glasses. Eventually, I found the room number.
The door was cracked open so, I stepped inside.
Nobody at the desk.
I stood and waited. There was no chair. I stood.

Soon, a gal came along. No name, no good afternoon. No small talk just- What are you here for?
I wanted to say a large coffee with milk but I didn't.
I told her what she needed to know and she sat me at the end of the hall next to two women who's perfume was Eau de Curry.
Real nice.
I held my breath ~gasp~.

Soon, a voice shouted out from down the hall from whence I came- Rob!
I went round the corner and back to 336.

Like trying on shoes in a shoe shop, I was fitted for a cuff and a black box that had a strap going around my waist like the smoke that resembled the wreath that encircled Santa's head. I was told when to expect this thing to inflate and what to do.
She asked when I retired.
I said a few years ago.
She said- "No, when do you go to bed- and get up!"
Yes...I knew that...
After midnight- and late in the morning.
She stopped fidgeting with the device and looked at me.
I smiled, realizing she thought I was a lazy cow.
"I'm retired"- I said and smiled broadly.
She was not amused. At least it was the correct answer this time.

That was it.
Do I come back at the same time tomorrow? Do I remove this appendage and drop it off? What?
"Yes" she said, "same time tomorrow" and walked out the door.
Earlier, she had also asked me if it was still raining.
Hmmm, my umbrella was dripping wet onto the floor as I hooked it onto the back of a chair

I had other questions like- I guess I take it off when I shower in the morning.
Am I supposed to shower?
I did mention walking and she said- "You don't want to raise your blood pressure and that's what your walk would do."
Sound advice.
I wanted to ask if I could run up our stairs like I usually do- but I didn't.

If I rated my experience out of 5 stars?
Maybe 2. I might go to 2 1/2- if I included the couple of staff members who said hello and smiled at me while I walked up and down the 6 flights of stairs to the third floor both going and coming.
However, the smells also prevented me from rating my visit higher.

I think people in these type of buildings are comfortable working in that environment and therefore know the place like the veins on the back of their Grandmother's legs.
I don't.
I find it confusing. Signs everywhere but not the one you're looking for.
Did I mention the smells?

Oh and Ontario listen up.
I had to pay $40 for this opportunity to be checked for 24 hours. I never remember paying for anything medical-related back in Ontaryoh- well, ambulance- but here in British Columbia the game is different. We even get billed a set amount every few months for the opportunity to see one's Doctor or seek medical help on those things that are covered. On the other hand one can sell one's piece of shit car to an unsuspecting buyer without a government sanctioned safety check. Probably why you
see cars on lawns everywhere with For Sale etched into old pieces of cardboard with a black magic marker and then taped to windshields.

So, a few hours to go and then- according to a sign I did see, my Doctor should get the results in a week.

Christ on a Cracker, I could be plucking harp strings by then!

UPDATE: I returned to have my BPM removed today and the gal from yesterday says again when she sees me:
"What are you here for?" 
Now this shows me she really has no connection to the public she cares for since in 24 hrs she has forgotten my face. On the other hand maybe this is the same greeting everyone receives. She's busy. She has things on her mind and gets to the point. Another attendant comes in and is all smiles. She's pleasant. Asks how I am and how can she help? We go into an adjoining room. She helps me remove the monitor. We joke a bit and laugh and I leave happy remembering her face and her happy manner. I thank both of them as I trot off down the hall to the stairs. 
Thank you Cowichan Hospital.

Tuesday, November 20, 2018

ROBBLOG #752- Maybe I am Old

Holy Shite! Maybe I am old!

Things are starting to happen. Kooky things. Senior moments.
Oh, I don't just mean today but in the past year or so.

Misplacing stuff is commonplace.
I've been looking for a black belt with a brown leather tip for weeks now. I wore it over the summer but I'll be damned if I know where it is now.

Last year when trying to find my way around Duncan, time after time I had trouble remembering the order of the cross streets along Canada Avenue. Beverley, James, Coronation then, Trunk. No wait, Sherman Road is first then Coronation...or is it York Street?
No. York is on the other side of the Island Highway.
Still after a year and three months in this City I still find myself doubting myself when I am out driving around without the Mister as a co-pilot.
It's getting better but at times it all feels so unfamiliar.

Then, just before I sat down to write this blog, I went to a kitchen drawer where I was sure I had seen a small cord with a night light receptacle on the end. I wanted to light up a "plastic" Santa face I used to hang out every Christmas in the 1960's when we lived on Cochrane Street, back in Orillia. I've kept the face but these days the plastic is very brittle. I thought I'd display it one more year on our protected lanai. Safe from the weather.

The original cord- a cloth cord, was in bad shape. I had already wrapped black electrical tape around it a few years ago to protect the wire but this year when I plugged the cord in the little, soft white bulb flickered.
A short.
Worn out wire.
Hence, I knew exactly where to put my hands on the new cord with the 7 watt bulb socket on one end and a perfectly good plug on the other.
No deal.
I can't find the F&%$ing thing...anywhere!

Then today, before coming out of Costco, I took the Latte I bought at the snack bar and wedged it in the shopping cart between a Chicken Pot Pie, a warm, fresh from the broiler BarBQue Chicken and a bag of buns. You see, I needed a free hand to push the cart and show my itemized bill at the exit. The young man in a nicely pressed blue shirt reached out and I passed the bill onto him to show what I had bought. He drew a straight, green line through the items on the bill and wished me a good evening. The Mister- at this point, had gone on ahead to unlock the van and check on Koko- our mini-Schnauzer, who was with us. He probably found her curled up in her basket in the rear seat.

I pushed the shopping cart out the door and along the side of the building over a speed bump and into the parking lot. Seconds later I looked down into the cart and saw my Latte on its side. The cup's contents were leaking through the basket onto the items below- including a Tuxedo Cake and a Christmas Cake!
Oh Shit!

I stopped the cart and began to wipe up the mess with a couple of snack bar napkins I had tucked into my jean's pocket. The Mister was a few parking spaces away. He saw what I was doing and walked over to ask what was going on.
I was spitting bricks.
F%$#ing speed bump.
F$%#ing Late.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

Standing under a parking lot light at the back of the van, we wiped the Latte from the edge of the Tuxedo Cake's packaging but couldn't save the "Christmas Gift".
It was soaked with liquid that had that yummy, familiar Latte scent.
We wouldn't be able to wrap this and leave it under the tree.
So, my lovely, understanding husband not only went back inside Costco to purchase the same gift one more time but he also picked me up another Latte.
Isn't he swell?
He treats old folks very nicely.

Possum's- don't let this happen to you!
I didn't want to push my luck but I did say I'd drive home- and I slid into the driver's side of the van before he came back out from the store.
Stop snickering...

"I can do this."
I repeated that mantra about a half dozen times to my old man Reid self.

However, all the way down Island from Nanaimo to Duncan, I questioned my ability to see in the dark- even with my distance glasses on.
As the Mister was checking e-mail on his iPhone, I watched carefully for signage so as not to end up in the Pacific or at least in the direction of the Pacific on the highway that leads to the Duke Point BC Ferries Terminal. Why imagine if I had made a wrong turn off Trans Canada 1 in the early evening November darkness:

Approaching the ticket queue lineup- because I couldn't turn around or at least see clearly to turn around in the darkness I might have said to the gal in the ticket booth-

"I'm awfully sorry Ma'am and you'll think this is very funny but you see, sadly, I made the
wrong turn back on the Island Highway and I really meant to continue along to Duncan, not take the Ferry to Horseshoe Bay and Vancouver."

She might not have found it too funny and maybe would have asked to see my licence. She would have slid the little glass window closed and after doing so pick up the phone and nod to me while smiling cautiously.
Probably calling the cops on me.

We did make it home and I have to say night driving these days is not the same as when I was in my 30's or 40's. Maybe even 50's...

It was not a rainy night, for that only adds another challenge while driving up island or down island on the Island Highway. The dry road lay ahead in the van's lights and I followed it sipping my Latte at each traffic light along the way as I listened to Starlite on the radio.
I had to stop at every light all the way down island.
Every damn light.

Now, we're safely home and inside but before calling it a night I might just have one more quick little look for that black belt with the brown leather tip.

Who knows, I might find something I was looking for last month!
Good Grief. Pass the depends...that's another story for another time.

Monday, November 19, 2018

ROBBLOG #751-Good News?

Anne Murray sang it a few years ago- We need a little good news today...

Some days it feels few and far between.
Those are the news stories that make us smile or say- that's good. They can be hard to find.

One good news story is our ten dollar bill featuring Viola Desmond appears today. She was a successful business woman and the Mother of the Civil Rights Movement. Miss Desmond was removed from a New Glasgow, Nova Scotia movie house when she sat in the "whites only" section and refused to leave.
She was escorted from the cinema to jail by police.

What? In Canada you say? Lovely little all-accepting Canada
Yup. I do say.

We have our dark moments. I mean Ford is Premier of Ontario!
You've heard of that Catholic Boys School St Michael's in Toronto? Apparently they teach boys how to be men and be pillars of the community. Not all, unfortunately.
Some get the idea that sticking a broom handle up a fellow student's ass is fun and exciting and just may teach little faggots a lesson.

These boys need to be thrown out of school permanently. Maybe the Pope can fly over and scourge them. They've been arrested and will have something to explain on their records for years to come, well, unless it gets swept under the rug of Holy Catholicism.
I say nail 'em up!
Was that my outside voice?

Anyhoo, back to pleasant stories.
The Santa Claus Parade happened in Toronto on  Sunday. We watched it on television as we are here on Vancouver Island. It was jolly but they never show enough of the marching bands. These days the telecast is rather like one big television commercial after another as the huge floats roll by. I'll bet it takes mega bucks to put on such a display these days. I wonder how much Eaton's put aside each year to present their Eaton's Santa Claus Parade? It was a sight to behold and they did it all by themselves.
Those were the days.

We are driving over the Malahat to Victoria on Saturday to see the Santa Light Parade. That'll be fun. Thousands of lights and marching bands too. Then, next week the small 6,000 strong community of Ladysmith- about 20 minutes north of us here in the Cowichan, presents a huge light parade that takes about an hour and a half to pass by. Last year it was magnificent!
Much easier to have evening parades here with milder temps and no snow. I'm not sure a lot of folks would turn out on a cold November night in "old home" of Orillia, Ontario if their Santa Parade shifted to nightime.

Did you see the photos of the small bear cub rescued from Downtown Huntsville Ontario? He'd been hanging around- obviously separated from his mother, at an intersection when citizens became concerned. A police officer picked him up and placed him on the back seat of the cruiser where he curled up and went to sleep. The cub was taken to a sanctuary.

Finally, there was the heart-warming picture of an officer holding a baby while the babe's mother filed an abuse report. Apparently, the officer cuddled and kept watch while all the paperwork was completed.
This is good stuff.

You may have to look a little harder for it but there are some good news stories out there.
Thank goodness for that!

Sunday, November 11, 2018

ROBBLOG #750- Fah Lah Lovember

There was a time back in Ontario when I would shutter at the thought of this month called November.

Cool- if not cold.
Rainy and gray.
Wet snow and frozen snow- and

I'm not thinking that way here on the left coast of Canada.
We've had many days of sunshine here this autumn and lately, only a couple of rain-soaked mornings that turned into sunny afternoons. As a matter of fact this past weekend when Orillia back in Ontario, has been seeing snow and ice and wind chills of minus 11, we here in the Cowichan on Vancouver Island have been enjoying morning coffee in the sunshine and afternoon walks in shorts and a sweatshirt.

We are lucky here.
Oh, it's no Florida but we don't see minus 11 either- or snow and blowing snow like I saw in the video on the Weather Network this past Saturday. Much of our garden is still green- although a couple of cold overnights caused the huge elephant ear-sized leaves of my Red Abyssinian Banana plant to droop and go mushy. Yet, nearby the New Zealand Flax, a  towering green banana plant and the Cordyline are all as they were.

Today, I decided to look back over blogs I had written years ago to see what comments I had made in November. Here's one thought from November 2014:

"We seem to be stuck in the midst of dull and grey. This is when I hear- this is exactly what the west coast is like. Would you want to live there? Yes!! Chances are there will be no snow...some mornings I am afraid to open the shutters (in Ontario)..."

I don't sound like a happy camper- do I? I continue:

"We have to keep busy this month. Have a coffee with friends. Go to the theatre. Get out for a walk in the soggy, damp, miserable air."

Sounds like a dismal scene setup for Dicken's- A Christmas Carol.

I go on to talk about turning both my Online radio stations-Swisssh and Starlite, into Christmas Jukeboxes. I mention a radio station manager who says:

"I get asked in October when is the Christmas Music starting. Holiday Music is like comfort food, you know Macaroni and Cheese, only Let it Snow and It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas."

This is true since I see many, many, many additional listeners on both stations once I play nothing buy Holiday Tunes. This season marks the 10th anniversary of Swisssh playing all holiday music under the moniker of "Your OFFICIAL" Holiday Music Station". We lose a few regulars until closer to Christmas but we more than make up for that with seasonal listenership.

What can it hurt playing Christmas Tuues now?. I have heard of  many stations- both Terrestrial and Online, playing 100% Christmas already and what does it hurt keeping a few "Scrooges" in Holiday check a little early. Who cares if the Grinch starts to smile in Mid-November instead of Christmas Eve?

It's November on the Island too and one trip around the aisles of Hudson's Bay or Canadian Tire will tell the tale- Christmas is here for another year! I intend to shout it from the rooftops in my new Island Home. Last year since we just moved in to our new home the first of December, the Holidays were a bit of a rush. We had overnight guests and visitors and it was difficult to find time to decorate the trees that stood for a week- set up but not decorated. This year I have the luxury of more time- and believe me like back home in Ontario, I start early because I enjoy taking my time.

Even though we are living in the "Duncan Riviera"- as a friend calls it, we still have a few weeks to go after Christmas to endure what Islanders call "winter" before we see Snowdrops in late January and cherry blossoms soon after.
Sorry about that Ontarians. I really am.
I used to stockpile all that holiday cheer from November and December and live on it as the months of January and February- sometimes March, dragged on and on and on.

Not quite the same here in British Columbia to be sure, however Islanders still like to think November and December as unbearably cold and wintry. Judging by last winter's weather, I have to say they are a bunch of wintry wimps and wouldn't last a day or two in the grips of a real hearty Ontario winter.

Anyhoo, November aside, I am setting my sites on Christmas and Swisssh and Starlite will both begin programming holiday music this coming weekend.
Fah Lah Lah.

I am also happier than a fan in a windstorm that I live here in this mild, Mediterranean climate.

Let be be the first to say-
Happy Holidays!

Tuesday, November 6, 2018

ROBBLOG #749- 10 Lanes. No Waiting. Open 24 hrs!

"Sometimes I feel so alone what with family and friends leaving this earthly plane".

I wrote this one night a few evenings ago before I turned out my light. I don't know why I thought that particular thought. I just did. I wasn't reading anything remotely close to the idea of people passing.

I guess it's true enough though.
When you're younger the first family members who leave are the Grandparents.
The oldest members of the family. It makes sense.
Two Grandparents left in their 70's.
One in her 90's and another in between.

Then, an Uncle. An Aunt. Then another and another.
A four-legged family member.
Another Aunt and Uncle.
Then a couple of friends I went to school with in the 60's.
A fellow work colleague or two.

Closer to home a Father.
More Family Pets including a precious yellow lab who still makes the tears flow five years later.
Then Mum...

In laws.
More friends.
Then, more recently, a cousin and lastly a precious little girl- a mini-schnauzer. ~sniff~

That's just a rough overview but you can see from that list that the final pins are being put in place and in the next 30 years- if I'm that lucky, a huge black bowling ball- with my name on it, will mow down one of those final pins- in my lane of life, me being one of them.

I have often thought about that bowling alley analogy these past few years. When I tell someone they smile, giggle and say they've never quite thought about one's end of days that way.
Just one big lane over at the local Bowling Alley.
10 pins- 5 if your a five pin bowler.
Numerous balls and bam!
One can always hope that the Grim Reaper and his crowd are less than professional bowlers and one's "game" could be extended indefinitely.

Overall though, it means there's not that many games left to play. There's been a whack of pins mowed down before me. I'm not even going to start to count them. It would just be too depressing, although sometimes I find myself thinking-
Just 30 more times to decorate the tree, sing Joy to the World and celebrate Christmas Day.
A couple of dozen chances to go out to dinner on a birthday.
Two, maybe three decades of summer days.
Twenty trips to London or Paris.
Well, I could go on but you see what I mean.

One could start to feel quite alone in this big old world but as a famous "Scarlet" said one day into the wind-

 "I'll think about that tomorrow- Fiddly-Dee-Dee!"

Monday, October 29, 2018

ROBBLOG #748- Fascinating Reading

Well someone in the vast universe is cheering me on this week. I mean really, who could ask for a better horoscope than this?

"You're creating a wonderful future filled with opportunities.
This week will prove to be the start of an auspicious chapter in the fascinating story of your life."

I mean really...
Apparently I am a fascinating person leading a fascinating life!
I am thrilled beyond words, yet I have a few questions and comments I'd like to put out there to the universe.

How will I recognize these opportunities exactly?

If there were an opportunity- say to invest in a multi-million dollar business, I'd have to pass. A Senior's monthly pay cheque here in Canada doesn't go far. I don't know what I'll do if the price of WalMart brand salmon cat food goes sky high- let alone the partially stale, past due date, wheat crackers I spread it on. Sometimes I get fancy and throw a sprig of grass on top just to fancy it up a bit.

"What's he going on about today, Lucy?"
" I have no idea Ethel!"
Maybe some radio station here on our Island is looking to make me the next big "radio star" of morning radio. Naw, that'll never work. I just don't do mornings anymore and many days I can't pull myself out of my huge, comfy king-sized bed until near 10 o'clock!
Now, before you say "lazy bum" remember I am up some nights until 2 am reading and what with laying wide awake from six until seven most mornings solving all my problems and the world's, why it takes a chunk out of  my REM sleep.

I know that I am a creative person of sorts and I know that in the past this creative side of me has given me some wonderful opportunities- in theatre for instance.
Usually these opportunities don't translate into making money.
That is really the story of my life- getting by. Oh heck, the Mister and I are comfortable but we are not what I would call "well off".
No, "well off" would be having a small walk-up apartment in Paris and an ocean-front home- something smallish and sensible, in Hawaii. From that perspective we are not really comfortable.
I hear groans...

Now about this auspicious chapter of my life that is just starting.
Auspicious as in "conducive to success" or "prosperous".
I am all for auspicious, I mean who wouldn't be.
A royal title would be nice.
A castle to accompany the title would be most welcome- just not in Scotland where my family tree roots run deep. It's just too damn cold and drafty- especially in kilt weather which is anytime in Scotland and who doesn't like to wear a kilt throughout the year no matter the weather.

I am fascinated by the fascinating story of my life but I hope this isn't a typo and it's meant to be "fascinator". I'm just not the kind of "gal" that looks good in a hat- no matter the weather. Think back to the Queen's Granddaughters in those horrendous hats at Bill's wedding. Not the kind of story you want to be stuck with the rest of your life- a bad hat story. However, what's-her-royal-name did much better in that evening gown she wore for the wine and cheese party at the palace on her own wedding night.
She is forgiven.

It's a good thing my social calendar is free this week so I'll have time to fit in the first "auspicious" chapter. Goodness knows how all this will end.

Stay tuned...

Thursday, October 25, 2018

ROBBLOG #747- What the Fah-Lah-Lah?

Thursday October 25th.

Two months till Christmas Day.
I hear collective- "Yikes!!" because we all know how fast the time goes between now and the Christmas Holidays- like a speeding freight train.
I have already heard of a couple of new stations playing Holiday Music and in fact there's one I have been listening to for a couple of years because I hear songs I might want to add to Starlite of Swisssh.

I know time is fleeting because relatives are heading south to get away from our Canadian winter.
Some leave sooner.
Some later.
We stay put here in this Mediterranean climate we have on Vancouver Island.
We are still in shorts.
There's still palm trees, green grass and roses blooming.
Japanese Arealia, rhododendrons and Laurel are all shiny and nice.

I know the holidays are coming because the bakery at Thrifty's- an island grocery store, has shortbreads on their shelves.
Plain or chocolate dipped.
I fell in love with this delectable little treat last Christmas and I was surprised to see them on display today. Of course, I could have left them on the shelf and waited until December to purchase- but I didn't.

This week the Home Hardware flyer arrived at the front door and the front cover features holiday wreaths, garland and coloured lights- all on special.
It isn't even Hallowe'en!
To steal a few words from Doctor Frank'n'furter from the Rocky Horror Show- How Nice!

By the way, the Mister and I watched a British version of Rocky Horror that you can find on You Tube. Just search Rocky Horror Show Britain 2015. It was filmed live at the Palace Theatre and beamed to cinemas across Europe.
How nice!
It is a really terrific version of the musical. You'll find it hard not to jump out of your recliner and do "The Time Warp- again"!!
If you make it safely out of your recliner, for Pete's sake don't throw your back out "warping"!

I also know the Holidays are fast approaching because I spent five hours today editing and refreshing Christmas Jingles for Swisssh and Starlite. Most of the work was on the Swisssh Radio side.
Both stations play all Christmas Music beginning Friday November 16th.
Early you say?
I've been doing this for a decade and the listenership goes up, up and up fairly quickly.

Editing and freshening the jingles was something I had wanted to do the past couple of years but never seemed to find the time. Last season Swisssh and Starlite didn't return to the internet airwaves until St. Nick's Day- December 6th. Since we had moved across Canada, that was the first opportunity I had to fire up the generator and re-boot the stations so, the first song I played from the west coast was a Christmas Tune. I can't remember what it was but I would hazard a guess that it was Bing Crosby's "White Christmas".

Then yesterday, I received my first e-mail of the year flouting a new Christmas Song from a record/movie company. It's a song from an animated movie to be released in December. I've only listened to it once so far and haven't made a decision as to whether or not I add it to the Holiday Playlist.

I still have to add the revised jingles to the computer generated playlist and then I'll be ready. Always a good idea to get a head start. I've already bought a gift or two and I have other ideas for gifting. I wonder how many of us will shop online this year? I remember doing quite a bit last season. How easy and comfortable shopping at home is. One can compare prices, easily return unsatisfactory items and the best part one doesn't have to search for a parking spot- easy in these early shopping days before Christmas.

Fah Lah Lah Lah Lah Lah Lah!
How Nice!!

Tuesday, October 23, 2018

ROBBLOG #746- All the Luck in the World

The word luck.

I've been thinking about that word today and it's derivative lucky.
Is life just plain old luck?
We luck out.
We are lucky to be in the right place at the right time.

Lucky to be alive.
Lucky to be living in this Canada of ours even though there are some nutbars out there like people
who want to fly a "Straight Pride" flag to support "straight" people.
They just don't get it. Too much beer and walking into lamp posts I'll wager.

We are lucky that we are not in that throng of thousands who are walking from Central America, through Mexico and ultimately to the Mexican/US border where that cheezie-faced fellah will probably tell his border guards to "deal" with them. I see it in his eyes as a news story shows the great sloth trudging towards his fancy helicopter.  I don't think these folks are the enemy. Wouldn't it be prudent to send representatives out to these people who are walking through the heat, day after day, to explain that their future is doubtful in that "great land of freedom" they see on CNN.

Their safety is at risk twofold- not just the closed door at the US border but traversing Mexico- not the safest place on the planet but then neither is the country where they are escaping from hoping to find peace, freedom- and work, in another.
I have great sympathy for these folks knowing in their hearts there is something better for them and their families only to run up against extreme right America. When you are frightened and weary, the world of citizenship rules and regulations is the last thing you are concerned about.

I am not entirely sure we here in Canada should open our borders either. Guess that makes me just as bad as our neighbours. Where would we put them and what with winter on its way- yikes.
Housing is a tough nut to crack for Canadians let alone thousands who are used to warmer temperatures.

Lucky to have no worries in that regard.
I am a Canadian.
I have a warm comfortable house and that house is in a Mediterranean climate where weather extremes are non-existent.

Lucky that I don't live in a city run by Patrick Brown. Does that guy have horseshoes up his ass?
People have short memories. First Ford, now Brown.
Is it an Ontario thing?
Gee, I like to hold my grudges and dislikes and let them simmer over low heat for years and years as well as the next person but I can't forget the Fords or Brown.

I'm lucky that I have friends who enjoy my company. Lucky that I have a husband who has stayed with me for almost 34 years and no, there's no medal for that achievement.

Lucky I have food to eat and a roof over my head.
Lucky that I have traveled a bit to see how other folks live. I have not been to either Mexico or Central America and I still don't have the desire to go. Same with Cuba. Visiting a country where folks are not free and taking them a tube of toothpaste so I'll feel better staying in my three star hotel while a kilometer down the road Cubans are living in crumbling houses.
No thanks.

I am lucky to have seen both the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans. I've seen the Eiffel Tower, Tower Bridge in London. Our Parliament Buildings. The Brandenburg Gate in Berlin. New York City. Waikiki Beach. The Rocky Mountains. Hollywood and Niagara-on-the-Lake.

Finally, I am lucky to have my health and my wits.
No comments from the Peanut Gallery...
Without one's wits there's no remembering when and no going forward. It's a time warp and although I love doing the Time Warp- again and again, I want to remember it.

Lucky that I do.