ROBBLOG #1000- Enough now...

 

"Eight is a lot of legs, David!"

That's one of my favourite lines from the Holiday movie- "Love, Actually"

and

1000 is a lot of RobBlogs, everybody.

That being said, I believe this is the last one.

The final RobBlog.

~tears~

I think I wrote the first in 2006- maybe 2004. I had thought of stopping at #500 but I continued.

It's a lot, David.

In fact turning 70 last summer seems to have me thinking it's time to let go of a few things- like extra Christmas ornaments or shirts and sweaters I hardly every wear. Then there's online radio stations like Swisssh and Starlite.

Swisssh will be on the internet 15 years on March 7th.

Starlite began on New Years Eve  2011, so that makes it a decade.

I have two Facebook Pages for the stations and a twitter account. They'll all close along with the Swisssh Website- which has been around a little longer.

This is a tough decision to pull the plug on the stations and I haven't made it for certain- yet I am getting there.  

Podcast seem to be the thing now and I have no interest in those.

Maybe I'll wait until March 7th.

Maybe not.

I am not giving up all media.

I recently started a You Tube Channel. 

I have the studio lights, a laptop and a tablet- for the videos and some nice viewing numbers already.

You can see it on YouTube by searching "Rob Reid Star" in the search box.

Subscribe if you will by clicking on the "Subscribe" button. It just lets you know when I've posted something new.

Now- Christmas.

Over the years I have written a seasonal greeting for the Holidays wishing one and all the best of the season. I'm not going to do that this year but I will say Merry Christmas, Happy Yuletide and all the best in the year ahead.

I hope this covid thing says tah tah in 2022 but I doubt it.

Is it the end of the world?

No, just a different world.

Forest fires, floods, cold, heat and covid.

What a mess!

So, my friends and readers, I bid you all adieu from this RobBlog site on blogspot.

Thanks for reading over the years.

I appreciate that so very much.

It's always hard to say goodbye and I absolutely hate goodbyes but there comes a time...

ROBBLOG #999- Fah Lah Lah Christmas, eh?

 

Where did a whole month go?

I am not apologizing.

I've been busy.

I've been thinking about ROBBLOG #999 and #1000.

Should I use 1000 for my yearly Christmas Greeting- or not.

I haven't decided yet.

So the Holidays are here. Fah, Lah, Lah Christmas, eh?

We have two trees up and outside the front door there's a tree with twinkling lights to the left, a lit wreath on the wall next to the twinkling tree and Mr. Bill- our lighted snowman sitting to the right.

Very festive.

Of course we don't usually have a white Christmas on Vancouver Island but then only this morning

2 cm of the white stuff fell and for a while it looked like a Christmas Card with all the trees on the mountains covered in heavy, white flakes.

It's melting now as the temperature rises and the sun comes out.

This year I bought these fancy GU10 bulbs for the lights up in the eves of the house. These bulbs change colour simply by pointing a remote at them. What doesn't work these days without a remote attached? I can choose a singular colour like red or green or change to the bulbs to revolve through 10 to 15 different colours.

It's quite pretty and many passerby's are commenting on how nice the lights look. 

I had the lights all orange for Hallowe'en. 

I love the blues and the mauves.

Red and Green look very Christmassy as well.

My Online stations are keeping me busy. Both Starlite and Swisssh have been all Holiday Music for a couple of weeks. Now that it's December I throw in a carol or two like "Do You Hear What I Hear?" but most of the music is secular. Listen to the stations at www.swisssh.ca

You can ask Alexa-

"Alexa, ask tunein (or Simple Radio) to play s w i s s s h (or s t a r l i t e) Radio."

Enjoy the musical Holiday Delights!

As if I'm not busy enough keeping the online radio stations flowing with Holiday Tunes, I've started a You Tube Blog.

Yes- I am what is known as a "Vlogger ".

I've recorded four or five vlogs but I have a lot to learn.

I want the vlogs to be more professional.

I need to learn editing, camera angles, lighting and how to add words across the screen. Thank Goodness all my radio years taught me how to ad-lib.

Remember, I'm an old "radio guy" not video guy!

I'd like to buy one of those flat, circular lights to keep me looking my best in the videos while recording. I think makeup- a bit, would help too. All the professional Vloggers treat the Vlogs as Television or Theatre- so why the hell not?

No one needs to see my 70 year old liver spots! A dab or two will make things look "prettier"- if that's possible. Anyhoo, watch my Vlog and "Subscribe". Search "Rob Reid Star Channel" on You Tube.

Then click on my headshot for the home page. Up aboue you'll see "videos". Click and choose. There are a couple of shows there as well including- "The Importance of Being Earnest".

I had been considering a podcast but I think this is more fun and it only take a few minutes to record and load straight onto You Tube.

I will get better at this as soon as I can find a few hours to sit down and learn editing etc. I'd like to put some non-copyrighted music on the Vlogs too. I'd like to do all this in the next week to be ready for a nice Christmas Vlog.

Have I bitten off more than I can chew?

Perhaps...

In the meantime- Happy Holidays. Be kind to each other.

This is a wonderful season to be cheerful.

I must dash though...

I have things to learn and all at the ripe old age of a septuagenarian.

ROBBLOG #998- Slap!

 

A phrase that comes up time and time again when reading one of my favourite magazines- English Home,  is : "I don't have anything too precious."

The homeowner on one hand is meaning he/she doesn't have a lot of breakable, expensive, nice things

that could be broken by visitors. On the other hand maybe he/she has already dispersed precious keepsakes.

Either way it's not my way.

When thinking about the future and what I will eventually do with all my "stuff", I realize my major problem is I have too much stuff and it's all precious- to me at least. I know when I shuffle off to the great beyond nobody will want this stuff.

That's a shame.

Much of it is family stuff.

A clock from my Dad's Dad- my Grandfather. 

A charcoal photo of my Grandmother and her brother.

A rocking chair from Lottie- my Mum's Mum and her China set with it's 22 ct gold trimmings.

There's more but I'd be here all day listing the items including a Santa Claus from Christmas 1963 given to me by my Grandmother Lillian Reid. That furry Claus started my Santa Claus collection. HIs beard is a little ratty and yellowy all these decades later but he is still my favourite.

Maybe I can slip him away with me.

Comforting thought to say the least.

I'd better stop or I'll start bawling....

It's a conundrum.

Nieces and nephews have no interest.

The Mister and I have no kids.

Yes folks- I'm barren!

My Siblings have some stuff of their own so they don't need mine to add to their pile.

Do you worry about things like this?

As I start working my way through seventyhood, I seems I have the need to disperse these "precious" things- a plan even.

Not that I plan on going anywhere soon but there's that old adage-

Here today. Gone tomorrow.

Then the Mister has to deal with it.

He tells me not to worry about it.

"What will you care"- he says, "You'll be dead!"

I guess this means I won't have any of my "precious accoutrements in "Heaven" unless he sends them Canada Post Express to wherever I'll be. I must remember when I do leave to jot down a forwarding address. That would be helpful- wouldn't it?

Now that I think of it, if I stopped reading Obits from back home, I'd be better. 

Every few weeks I search through the listings of those who have passed. Usually there's one or two folks I knew way back when- like the High School History Teacher Mr. Wilson whose class I never actually took but used to talk to frequently.

Probably because my cousin Jude babysat for he and his wife.

It's a strange place to be this 70 something.

I don't feel like 70 something but apparently the BC government has plopped me in the fragile senior category offering me my Senior "booster" Covid shot and imploring me to get a flu jab.

I've never had a flu shot.

Like the anti-vaxxers, I guess I feel I can beat the flu.

I am invincible.

Maybe what Dr. Henry here in British Columbia is saying to me is a wakeup call.

In person- like Cher, she might slap me across the cheek and say- 

"Snap out of it!"

Ouch!!

ROBBLOG #997- French like France

 

First off.

Notice this Blog is number 997.

Only 3 blogs and I reach 1000.

A milestone. What happens next?

I had planned to stop writing at number 500.

What happened?

I should go back to number 500 and have a read.

This past week, I slipped into Homo Depot to buy chalked paint.

For several years I have had a yearning to paint our oak dining set and hutch French Linen White.

We had been through a few days of fog and mist and rain when about 4ish in the afternoon I says

to the Mister- "That's it. Homo Depot has the chalked paint I have been wanting back in stock. I'm going to do it!"

And I did.

I painted and chalked my little heart out for a couple of days. Then, I waxed my work.

Overall it was pretty easy.

No prep.

Just paint- although a wipe down doesn't hurt.

Chalk paint doesn't splatter much and it goes on quickly. The end product is bee-you-tea-ful.

A French White Dining room in a day plus a few hours to wax once the chalked paint is completely dry.

This Solid Oak Dining set was made by Mennonites in Ontario- near Guelph, thirty four years ago.

It has stood the test of time but it was looking dated.

I love the French look. Some call it Farmhouse.

The Mister calls it- "I'm not sure but as long as you like it..."

I am used to these retorts these days.

Anyhoo, I do love the look and it brings the white woodwork in the dining area to life.

So back up a bit.

When I stepped into Homo Depot I walked into seasonal splendour. The store just inside the main doors was stocked from ceiling to floor with Holiday decor. There was not a ghoul in sight only reindeer, Christmas Trees and sparkle.

I had a quick look even though I was on a chalked paint mission. On a top shelf I could see a six foot Eiffel Tower. Definitely not as large as the original in Paris but with the twinkling lights it was a very reasonable facsimile in understated gold.

When you visit the tower in Paris it actually is a rusty brown.

This store model was a flat gold. It drew my interest because I bought the same tower in white years ago.

Since my purchase, the twinkling lights have all stopped twinkling and I have had to re-string it with simple, white fairy lights. It works. Just not as pretty as with the prelit twinkling lights. I noticed the price at one hundred and seventy dollars was not as pretty as before either.

I believe a ten dollar can of gold spray paint could give my tower a lift but I'd have to remove the lights, then spray the gold and re-string the lights.

Not sure I'm up for the redo.

I've painted enough this week but never say never.

As a final thought I encourage you to think about "prelit" anything. Over the years I haven't had the best luck when it comes to prelit trees- indoor or outdoor as well as prelit geese. It sure saves time when decorating a tree. Then one year you plug it in and half the tree is dark.

I am thinking about that this year.

Our huge 14 foot prelit, 900 light indoor tree from Costco is looking at its 6th year this Holiday Season.

I hope the heck it works when I plug it in.

If it goes dark you'll hear me scream from British Columbia all the way back to Ontario!

ROBBLOG #996- Sore as "Ho"

 

I fell walking through the man door into our garage.

It was wet out front.

I was barefoot.

I went outside to take down a pumpkin banner that was flapping and snapping in the mountain breeze.

As I stepped into the garage over the threshold and through the door, my right heel slid forward on the floor causing me to fall on the cement on my left knee. I am bruised on my knee and sore from neck to waist on my right side. In hindsight, if I was attempting the splits as a ballet dancer I would be proud.

The Mister opened the door into the mud room just as I was getting up.

He panicked.

I said I am fine but I'll be sore.

What is it that makes us Seniors fall?

I came in the house. Iced my bruised knee and sat down to peruse the CBC News website.

On the second row of stories down the page was the headline- "Risk of Falls for Seniors".

Apparently we seniors- over 65, flop to the floor enough times to have falling related injuries the number one reason we are hospitalized.

I may have gone to the hospital if my right leg had been wrapped up around my neck but it wasn't and I didn't. The article pointed to hearing loss and vision loss as the causes of us smacking the deck. Losing our balance was the result. In my case it was a slippery garage floor. Good Gawd, I might have chipped a tooth or broke my nose. I wouldn't have gone out for weeks what with the swelling and black and blue around my eyes, nose and mouth.

Of course, I repeat- I am fine but I am sore.

I don't feel like 70 but somehow some things I do point to the fact I am and I am not pleased.

A neighbour asked if I wanted to borrow a cane.

"Have one and used one before"- I said, "but thanks."

Crap.

These days my skin is much thinner too. I can mark my arm with anything vaguely sharp like a rubber ball- and have blood gush forth like never before. If our Mini Schnauzer pulls at my arm wanting a treat or a walk, her nails gouge my skin. The rich, crimson blood flows around the blonde hairs on my arm and droplets hit the floor.

This is crazy and the marks take longer to heal than they did in my previous youth.

Some days I should just lock myself in a padded room.

I'd be safe.

Lonely but safe.

I'd better go and apply another ice pack to my knee.

It's smarting a bit.

I have Dr. Ho to help my right side. He doesn't come to the house. I keep his equipment in a drawer in the "Boy's Room"- our main floor powder room.

I use his pads quite often.

Buying his contraption in a search for pain relief, I feel that I have provided extra cash so he can continue to enjoy his life on his huge yacht with all those nubile, blonde girls sunning themselves on every deck.

I'm sure Dr. Ho is well aware how often we oldsters fall or are in pain.

He's stepped up to the plate

...which is better than falling on it. 

ROBBLOG #995- Over the Log

 

I had to reach out to a friend who had recently sunk down a dark, black hole called depression.

It's a bitch.

I suffered from depression years ago.

It's still there inside my head.

At my lowest point down that hole, I was given a choice- hospital or staying with someone- outside of my immediate family, who would care for me. My Cousin Judy- who passed a couple of years back, stepped up to the plate.

I will always love her and will never forget her for that.

She saved me.

You saved me Jude!

I always suffered most at the changing of the season from summer to autumn. I don't know why.

Late August through the fall when it seems everything dies.

Weather changed. Seasons changed and so did I.

At that lowest point I stopped going to work. I lied. I stayed home. In my state of depression I needed to be alone and to be surrounded by my things. I remember thinking if I was a millionaire I could deal with this. I wouldn't have to work and I could take off somewhere whenever I wanted.

I thought it would cure me.

It would have made me feel better but a cure? Not sure there even is a cure. 

It's more of an understanding how to cope and still live a normal life- not that I personally have lived a "normal life" whatever that is...

One day- the final day before I got help, my Mum and Sister, found me crouched in a fetal position

between my bed and a wall.

I was so low.

So low...

I wasn't answering my phone.

People were worried and rightly so.

When I was at the bottom of that dark, deep hole, I had to be on drugs to level myself out.

This was about 1980.

Mental Health issues were not talked about.

If one was depressed one was told to pull up one's socks

and get on with it. 

My Dad told me that.

The brain knew different, however.

A broken arm people could see and understand.

A Mental illness and confusion- not so much

Anyhoo, it was three months or so for me to get back to feeling sort of okay. 

I had put on weight. 

My clothes felt tight. 

My cheeks were chubby.

I was tired but looking forward.

I was "okay enough" to be out in public and even well enough to want to return to work.

I tried.

It didn't go quite to plan.

My work- CHAY FM at the time, let me go.

I went in for a meeting all set to go back to work and they kindly let me go never understanding what

pain I had been through. None of the three managers at the meeting could look me in the eye.

I was done.

I bawled my eyes out in the car as I drove home.

One of my major problems resulting in "the Great Depression" was being in the closet.

I was 29.

On the final day I saw a psychiatrist he said to me:

"Rob you know what you have to do, so go out there and do it."

I did.

I called someone I had met that I knew was Gay and off I went to Toronto never telling a soul why.

After a few weeks- and not long before Christmas, I began to come out to family and friends.

Imagine if every straight person had to come out to family and friends.

For most Gay folks- like myself, it's a journey we must take.

It's like jumping over a log to a better side of the meadow.

Crossing a line in the sand to personal freedom.

It felt great and so right and remember this was 1980 not 2021!

It's a life-changing experience and takes guts but it's a road to wellness I had to take and wanted to take.

My Mum called me one day and said my Dad didn't want me to come home for Christmas!

How nice!

After struggling for months this was not what I needed to hear but I was stronger and moved forward.

Then, at the last minute she called and said Dad had changed his mind.

"Come home for Christmas"- she said.

I said- no.

I had other plans.

I had to watch myself for a few years.

I had to be careful and watch for depression's warning signs.

Things eventually fell into place.

After a relationship from hell in Toronto, I met the current "Mister" on a plane to Honolulu.

A few weeks later when we met up back on Toronto, I told him what I had been through what with depression and coming out a few years before.

Funnily enough, I helped him come out. He hadn't jumped over the log as of yet.

He helped me with my depression. He stayed strong when the vile illness tried to rear its ugly head in the next few years.

I still have "episodes" now and then. 

A small blip but I handle it as best I can.

At least I don't curl up between my bed and a wall any more!

Just a couple of years ago I wanted to go back to Ontario when I found myself dreadfully homesick. I thought maybe we- I, had made a mistake coming to the Island.

Depression is a devil of an illness and creeps up on you.

I had tears.

I tried to feel better and did eventually. Nothing like 1980.

I was just sad and feeling away from everything I had known.

Several people back in "Old Home" had passed and we couldn't go home.

The "monster" lurked and I had warning signals but I beat it back.

I'll always have some form of depression. 

It's in me.

I have to control it and I do.

Recently, I asked the Mister- "If we still lived in Orillia right now, would we make the move to the Island?"

It's a hard call to make and I don't know why I asked the question in the first place. I still get a pull from "old home" and the Autumn season now and then it leaves as quickly as it comes.

Most importantly, if you believe you are suffering from depression, know you are not a alone.

That's the most important part of all this depression crap.

You go to the people who support you and understand and it's not always those closest to you. 

Some people have a very hard time sorting through things like this and want no part of it.

If they only knew what it was like for us...

So that's my rambling on my life with depression.

Get help.

Keep strong.

Remember "Life is Good".

Lean on those you can.

and

Be Well.

ROBBLOG #994- NO HO HO HOliday Shopping

 

I guess we won't see Berlin or Paris or London this coming Holiday Season.

We've made two appointments during the time period we usually go. We didn't go last season due to covid but we had hopes that this year would be different.

It's not.

Perhaps it's even worse.

Documents needed. Masks. Do this. Don't do that. I'm NOT doing that.

Be safe.

How the hell can we be sure?

Oh, we could go to London and do some of our fun Christmas things like window shopping at Selfridges or having a meal at our favourite Oxford Street Pub The Three Tuns. The question is- if we were exposed to this new strain of covid or the next we'd have to stay another 14 days in a hotel at our expense.

That would break the bank.

Worst scenario- we get covid 4.0 and we'd have to stay in a hospital and accrue medical expenses.

None of this sounds like a good plan.

I know I'll miss the Holiday Spirit conjured up when we've gone in past years. The shopping at Primark

for clothes especially. It's a must when visiting Oxford Street at Christmas. We'd fill a Primark shopping basket with new things- even though we had no need of yet another shirt or pair of socks.

Primark is remarkably inexpensive and yet the store always has the latest in fashions. Hanging in my closet from past years is a grey duffel coat that cost me 30 pounds. The one with the oblong wooden buttons you slip through a small hoop, then turn to secure.

There's the leather jacket that cost 35 pounds. At the time I bought it, I didn't need another leather jacket but I couldn't pass up the price!

In my closet you would also find shoes and numerous styles and colours of shirts all bought for 10 pounds or less. This stuff lasts way longer than the six dollar T Shirts at Wally World!

The tragedy is because of covid we are waiting for next year unless a big miracle happens between now and the first of November. I'd be happy going for an extended weekend instead of the 10 days or so that usually makes up this excursion.

I would love to know I'd be strolling along the Champs-Elysees in Paris ogling the Christmas lights or checking out the Christmas Market. Buying some little thing and having an afternoon coffee at Le Depart de Saint-Michel. 

~heavy sigh~

Not this year.

We had even contemplated starting our Holiday Trip in Berlin. Visiting an Aunt and then taking the train to Paris and then the Eurostar to St. Pancreas in London.

Again, not this year.

Damn.

Damn covid and damn those unvaccinated who are fueling this 4th wave.

The numbers tell the story.

Up to 80% of people hospitalized or in ICU's here in British Columbia are unvaccinated.

Our daily numbers are as high or higher than the wave prior to this past summer.

So the Mister and I are not about to sacrifice our health and safety and head to England- or France, because of the uneducated un-jabbed.

Only this past week we were talking to someone we have known for a few years who works in a busy store here on Vancouver Island only to discover this person is NOT vaccinated. This person is absolutely convinced they will NOT get covid nor pass it along to someone else.

They believe it's all a ruse perpetrated by the government.

They read it on the internet.

Huh, must be true.

Give me strength.