Sunday, July 12, 2020

ROBBLOG #848


Today Mesdames et Messieurs, a Tale of Miss Titsie LaRue.

Have I spoken of Miss LaRue before?
Peut-etre.
Miss Titsie LaRue was known for frequenting such famous places as the  Moulin Rouge, Theatre Bleue de Paris and the Wild Horse.
It was at these places where she performed her "act".

You see Miss Titsie LaRue was a Star of the stage in Paris- mostly in run down strip clubs in her later years, where she was a "professional" pole dancer.
A "professional" pole dancer you say?
Yes.
Oui. Un danse avec un baton. Un grande baton.

Did you know there are even professional teachers of pole dancing?
There are.
One being Esther Jane Tiddlescum- a Brit, who lived in Paris for several decades. After suitable instruction, Miss Tiddlescum would present the "dancer" with a very legitimate looking certificate stating that one had passed a rigorous pole dancing exam. This is why Titsie liked to think of herself as a "professional" and said so at every opportunity.

There were rumours that Miss LaRue also ran a popular "house of ill repute"- une maison de mauvaise reputation. This fact was common knowledge among the locals in the neighbourhood of St. Michel where she lived most of her professional life.

St. Michel is in Paris- if you didn't know.
Of course if you've never been there- why would you know?
St. Michel is not on the wrong side of the tracks especially but how would one know, for in Paris most of the tracks lay underneath the Parisienne soil.
I digress...
Je fais une petite digression.



This house of "mauvaise reputation" as I said, was common knowledge to locals and very much a destination for local Catholic Priests. At least those that slanted towards ladies. A priest preferring lady's bosoms (les tits) being few and far between in Paris. At least that's what the locals said.
"Few and far between."
Only they said it in French, sort of-
 "sont extremement rares"

It was also said that Miss LaRue herself was a favourite of many men within the French Government- although this could be the stuff from which rumours are born. Apparently, Titsie mesmerized the government officials with her prowess on the pole. Both on stage and dare I say "in bed".
Same dance. Different pole.

Miss La Rue did not only rely on her athletic abilities on poles and her satisfaction guaranteed under a duvet, she was also a highly sought after interior designer who's work ethic was built around this mantra-
"If I can't embellish it and it has two legs and is breathing without the aid of a machine of any kind- fuck it!"

It was said that it was a good thing Miss LaRue had her pole- un baton, to fall back on since her taste and talents in the world of decor leaved much to be desired. Many people- both manly and female, used her services. She was loved and adored by one and all who met her- "apparemment", whether they be watching her dance or decorate- usually not at the same time.

She always said- "Life should be lived and those who don't live life are fucking, lifeless (les) cretins!"
Titsie was not one to mince words. She spoke it like it was and the people of Paris expected and believed what she believed.

Although Titsie led an exciting life, not quite everyone was playing in her band for Titsie had an older sister- Miss Edith Jean. Miss Edith was a sad, less-than-colourful kind of girl with an impish smile- un sourire malicieu, who although carried the same genes, was far less popular and sought after than her famous soeur. She would find fault with her younger sister's activities and speak harshly to her whenever she felt that Titsie had crossed a line- which was often. Even so Titsie loved her sister (je t'aime) and they had a standing appointment for tea every Thursday afternoon at three- right after Titsie's afternoon pole dance at the popular Paris theatre known as "Theatre Bleue".

Miss Edith Jean would always make sure Titsie washed her hands well- for twenty seconds, before she picked up even one cucumber sandwich. Miss Edith may have been "less-than-colourful" but she was clean.

Some in Paris say a plaque should be erected- on a pole of course, in Miss LaRue's honour near the Fountaine St. Michel where Miss LaRue could been found feeding pigeons, displaying the latest Parisienne curtain fabric or just working the crowd- a travailler avec le meme group! (loosely translated)

Saturday, July 4, 2020

ROBBLOG #847- From a Distance Someone is Watching


Honestly, how can anyone even look at news, watch news or listen to news these days.

Especially when it's news about an orangutan who one day will pay for being a disgusting human being. Say no more!

That gal "running" Hong Kong- the puppet that she is, is not far being in the "World of Wonders" herself. Look at her dressed in her little 1970's two-piece knitted suits, with a brooch on the left, pretending she has Hong Kong's interests at heart.
So, that's why people from Hong Kong are feeling to Canada and England is it?
This one needs to be in a carnival tent along the midway with her puppeteers Even so, the Chinese people wouldn't get it. She's a menace and she's really just "China" in the flesh throwing those who oppose "the rules" in jail.
I believe things have just begun to get worse for Hong Kong or those in Mainland China who believe better days are ahead.
They aren't...

Then, lucky ole Russia. They could have Putin in power for a couple of decades.
That is, if he wants to run.
It would kind of be like having Scheer, Harper and MacKay all in power at once- only marginally better.
Putin has choices.
His choices.
Must be nice to run a government that way. He could say-
"Look can I let you know in a Russian Morning if I want to run again Comrades? ~he laughs~ Of course it will be all right. I am bigger and better than a Czar. I am practically an Emperor and I sit upon the right hand of the Orthodox God and his Orthodox son- The Jesuz. I only ask to make it seem like I care about the little Russian folk- except for those Gays and Lesbians who can never be Mums and Dads.
Of course I don't care."
If he does run in the decade after this, I sure hope he keeps his shirt on.

A week or two ago I knew it was going to be a problem when I started reading headlines about Justin- our PM, having a charitable organization his family supports dole out 900 million dollars to students. I didn't even know the entire story but the headlines looked bad.
Turns out they were bad and just as The Prime Minister was riding high in the polls with his "covid caring", he had to step back. Why did he think letting that organization handle all that cash would be just jolly okay in the opposition ranks or even in the minds of the most "Liberal" of Canadians.
Did anyone say- "Hey, that's a great idea Justin!"
I don't think so.

Gawd is watching from a distance (If there was a Gawd)
The news is bad these days.
I browse headlines every morning on CTV and CBC.
Most of the stuff I can't read.
I have no interest or no room in my brain to take it all in.

Even CTV a national "Canadian" Network let me down when the top "banner" story on their website was about the biggest, self-sucking, self-indulging holiday of the year in the States.
We all know that it's their "special" day.

It's their special day every day of the Gawd-Damned year and ya wanna know what pisses me off the most?
No, not Texans who slip over the border possibly carrying Covis 19 claiming to be driving to Alaska and ending up in Port Renfrew on the south western tip of Vancouver Island.
No, it's bigger than that.

What pisses me off is the American movies that come here to Canada and turn our small towns- like Ladysmith, into a Fucking Yankee Doodle Playland by placing a flag on every corner, streetlamp, store window and old lady's ass they can find just so we will understand while watching that movie that although it looks like Canada- it is really America.
Good Grief.
You know, that's the first sign of an American movie being filmed here. The profusion of American flags followed closely behind American bullshit which the actors step in throughout the 120 minutes of the film.

That being said I am glad our technicians and movie folk are getting work and our actors after decades and decades still win the "bit" background roles.
Thanks for that at least.

Finally and this is not news, I apologize for using so many " " marks in today's blog.
I dunno why I did...

Tuesday, June 30, 2020

ROBBLOG #846- A Tale of Canada


A Parable for CANADA DAY. Sort of...

Inagaddadaviaprezday (Translation In The Garden Of Eden)

Adam tossed off the banana leaf quilt covering his muscular torso and jumping off the Queen size bamboo bed, he stood before the open window, a fist placed in a masculine-type-of-way on each hip.
The morning sun glistened off his tanned chest.

"You know, I think I feel like doing something special this day."

"Like what"- grumbled Steve wiping the sleep from the corner of his eyes, "Make a new country?"

"Hmmm..."- Adam thought. "I just don't know my Darling. It's got to be a big, original idea. I know that!"

"Oh no Adam. Not another one of your hair-brained, creationist schemes. Isn't living the hell of this Garden-like Eden enough for you. I mean there's not a decent coffee shop for miles to say nothing of a shop where a guy can buy a well made, stylish loin cloth!"

"Oh Stevie, you are such a Debbie Downer. Look around for what the Father has provided for us!!"

"You mean traffic jams, hot weather that makes me sweat- and tourists? Well, He can take his providing and shove it where the sun don't shine?"

"Russia?"

"No Adam, not Russia but a good guess, it's somewhere just as dark and void of human dignity."

"Oh you mean he should shove it in that little indent here just between my bum cheeks!" Adam guffawed as he tried to peek behind himself.

"You're an idiot Adam. You should have been a blonde and I mean no dis-respect to blondes but really? " Steve shook his head as he swung his big, athletic legs off the bed. His bare feet hit the floor with a thud! Now, sitting on the edge of the mattress he held his head in both hands as he mumbled-
"Coffee, I need coffee..." He stood up from the side of the bed as Adam cried out loudly-
"Me too! Coffee please Sweet Cheeks!"
Adam turned and flicked on the radio and began to dance to the morning tunes on EDEN 104.5.
He shouted as he danced-"Look Steve, you had the beginnings of a good idea Hunnie, I 'll grant you that- but why don't I make a country! You know make one up from scratch like."

"Oh Good Grief Adam. An entire country? I didn't mean to..."
Steve was interrupted by Adam's enthusiasm
"Yes!" Adam jumped up and down on his size eleven's until the earth shook beneath him, "And I think I'll call it CABANA!"

"Cabana? Really? Cabana." The look on Steve's face was incredulous. "Next you'll be wanting the Father to pair boys with girls. What are you talking about Adam?"

"No, No Steve this'll work."

"If you're continuing with this hair-brained idea at least pick a better country name."

"Like what Stevie?"

"Well...like, say- like 'Canada'. That's it Canada! Now I'm making coffee. You fill in the rest."

Steve grabbed a pair of fraying shorts from a bedside chair and slowly pulled them up over his lovely legs, threading the button at the top of the shorts through the slit in the waistband. "Not sure this 'button' idea will ever catch on down here" he said to himself out loud,"but if the Father says it's a good idea- who am I to suggest something different- like maybe - a dome fastener?"

Once in the kitchen, Steve made cupboard noises...

Standing once again at the window Adam folded his manly biceps across his hirsute chest and thought for a moment while EDEN 104.5 rocked on in the background.
"Hmmm..."
Then, in a short minute, he called in the direction of their recently-renovated kitchen-
"Steve, I've thought about it and that is a great name! Wow and to think I thought about almost, ninety-percent of it all by myself!"

"I know Hunnie! You keep thinking!"- Steve called out as he measured a few cups of coffee into the filter. Steve also knew that behind every great man there was an even greater one- with kick-ass abs and a butt that wouldn't quit.".
...but enough about me he chuckled."

A few minutes later Steve placed bran-banana muffins, a pot of hot coffee and two empty mugs on a tray and carried the tray out to the terrace. Oh, a pitcher of milk for Adam too. He just had to have milk in his morning coffee.
He set the tray on the terrace table and called-
"It's ready Handsome!"- ever mindful he had to support, push and stand back just a little bit to let his man grow and take the credit- usually all of the credit, even for Adam's most silliest ideas.

Shortly after, Adam waltzed onto the terrace in a red mini robe that barely covered his manbits. He had a pen in one hand. A pencil in the other.

"Steve, how about I place all across this country called Canada-a bunch of Palm Trees?"

"Pookey, just where will this country be located?"- questioning Adam as any mortal would.

"Well, I was looking on the map and figured somewhere north of the 49th parallel- for the most part."

Steve poured the coffee and wondered how he could make a suggestion and still have Adam think it was his idea.  Adam picked up a bran-banana muffin and started to chomp away.

Steve sipped his coffee and looked across the table at Adam not really knowing what to say next.
He soon thought of something.
"Look Sweetie, it might be a little too cool to have Palm Trees all across this CANADA of yours, so why not- and this is just a suggestion, why not put Pine Trees in most of the country and save your Palms for say a smaller, more Mediterraneanized part of your CANADA say... on the west side and maybe along a coastal area or islands. They'd look pretty there.
Pride of place so to speak."

Steve waited for Adam's light to go on.
Sooner or later- it always did.
"Hmmm...cooler you say?"
~blink~
"Hey! What about I use Spruce and Pine Trees and..."
He looked at his banana muffin, paused and then said-
"and throw in some Banana Plants and Yuccas for that strip on the left coast!"

Steve started to applaud.
"absolutely stunningly brilliant Darling. Brill to a tee!"

"I thought you'd think so." Adam's chest heaved with Pride.

"Okay next- the people.
Hmmmm, what colour. Oh! What if I make them all dark yellow to offset the green of the trees and plants and I'll have them speak Canadianese and walk about on two legs..."
Adam scribbled even more notes with his lead pencil on his paper pad.

After a brief quiet Steve spoke again.
"Adam." He paused hoping Adam would understand his 'cause for a pause' first,
but he didn't.
"Adam, we walk on two legs. Remember?"
Adam stopped making notes.
"Oh- right. Well another problem solved."

Steve continued to sip his coffee.
He rolled his eyes and looked skyward.
"This is going to be a long day. A very long day indeed- isn't it Father?

And that's how CANADA was born.

Sorta.....

HAPPY CANADA DAY EVERYONE!!


Sunday, June 28, 2020

ROBBLOG #845- An Island Day


It's amazing the things one can accomplish in a single day on this Island in the Pacific.

I walked along our south garden- coffee cup in hand, pausing in the brilliant morning sun to gaze upon the lime-green throat of a burgundy Daylily.
Gorgeous and as the name says just a day- hence a Daylily.

Further along, I had planted a Julia Child Rose the other day with just a couple of full blooms intact. Now a few days later I see it has eight booms- all a golden butter yellow and all scented like spices.
Beautiful.
Next to it the Oregon Grape- tall and prickly, another delicious, all yellow Daylily.
Amazing. Look at the ruffles!
A showstopper!

A few minutes later in the lower garden, I plopped myself down in a brilliant yellow Muskoka Chair- not unlike the yellow of the Julia Child Rose, just to ponder life at that moment.
The sky was Island Blue. Not a cloud to be seen.
Hot sunshine filtered through my banana yellow garden umbrella. Straight ahead of me, a Momma bird was feeding her young in front of the white, outward swinging garden gate. The bird-child was impatient and the Mother fed the youngster as fast as she could. A few minutes later she flew to the rocks in the garden over to my left and fed yet another small bird-baby. The chirping set the tone of the Garden Oasis where I sat.
Nature. Sound. Colour. Warmth.

As I daydreamed, the frog fountain behind me bubbled with cool, flowing wate as two artificial water lilies floated round and round upon its surface. In the distance at a far corner of the terrace at the edge of the gazebo, I could hear the lion fountain's three streams flow noisily into the bottom basin where the water was sucked up by the pump returning it to the top tier.
The baby birds still chirped as several swallows dipped close by overhead.
"Not my Mama" the birds seem to say.

There was the enticing scent of the honeysuckle crowding its way to the top of the white, oval trellis with the deep garden red of a climbing rose intertwining freely. The Hummingbirds were at work drawing nectar from every last scented flower as yellow finches crowded at the feeder hanging from the trellis' top. An explosion of garden colour!

A neighbour soon walked by on the gravel path outside the gate, their feet crunching with every step. They didn't know I was sitting there comfortably in my Muskoka Chair hidden unobtrusively behind the Portuguese Laurels along the garden fence.
So much happening on my side of the fence.
Peace. Privacy. Shade. Greenery. Life.


Taking a rest from our garden, after brunch we took a short jaunt to the Ocean at Maple Bay- about fifteen minutes from our front door.
People were scattered here and there, physically distancing along the stony beach. Gulls cawed overhead. Kids splashed in the water. Sailboats slipped past the end of Saltspring Island. A pair of water boarders sprinted across the bay and back again. Beachgoers laughed in the near distance.
A young girl- 20 something, had managed to squeeze into a small, pink bikini that was hardly there at all. A young man jogged by where we sat in our lightweight, aluminum framed chairs, his calf muscles glistening in the June sunshine as his sneaker-clad toes dug into the sand. About this time a young Dad reminded his kiddie threesome that they had been at the beach for nearly three hours and they had to go....soon.

Pinch me.

I am on Vancouver Island. Our garden is one thing but this ocean and the vista in front of us quite another. I look down and there's the ocean right at my feet and as I gaze out over a calm Maple Bay I see in the distance the mountain-topped mainland accessible by air or BC Ferry. The smell of salt water is in the air and still, the clear blue of an island sky hangs overhead.
Soon for us too, it's time to go, so we pack up our chairs and Koko- our mini-schnauzer to head back to our van. Off we drive home to meet friends in the garden for an adult beverage and a chat.

The birds chirped.
A welcome island breeze.
Still a hot sun.
The sky? Still Island Blue reflected from the Pacific, I would presume.

Soon our guests arrive with wine in hand.
We offer a plate of cheeses, pickled asparagus, mini sweet tomatoes and crackers.
We munched and chatted and toasted our good fortunes until evening fell.
A final quick tour of the all the gardens- north, south and west before the evening darkness made it impossible to do so.
My, how the yellow Daylillies glowed in the late day light...

Even'tide. Goodbyes. Thanks. Best wishes.
Dishwasher loaded.
Inside Palm Villa, a final treat of strawberry shortcake leftover from the evening before.
Summer and berries.
Heaven...

The garden had been tidied. Chairs dispersed back to their proper places, pillows straightened and now the evening's question being- is what we have enough already?

The answer comes like the chirping of the baby bird had come beforehand-
perhaps....

Friday, June 19, 2020

ROBBLOG #844- The Side Effects of Macaroni and Cheese


Holy Hannah, I've had some interesting dreams of late and not one of them has included Hugh Jackman.

I've read about people having dreams because of this pandemic but I don't think that's the cause of my nightime stories. These are something that are purely "dreamed" up by little old me
Maybe it's the extra fibre I'm consuming in a glass of cranberry juice every afternoon round about four. A senior scenario. Like eating salad isn't enough these days
It could be the ocean air.
It affects the weather and the systems we get from the South Pacific here on our Island.
Maybe, it's just an island thing.
My days are quiet for the most part and my dreamworld state makes up for the laid back island life at night by "raising a little H E double hockey sticks".

Not all my dreams are intense.
In one dream I was able to spend some time with our Yellow Lab- Kiki.
The Mister and I loved that dog and she spent 17 wonderful years with us. I miss her every day.
It made me feel close to her.
I even looked back at some old photos and used a favourite pose of her for my desktop.
Our Kiki is laying asleep on a wicker love seat we had on a side veranda back in old home. What a sweetie.
~sigh~


Another recent dream had my cousin Judy popping by. Her voice was so clear.
"Oh yah..."
We were laughing about something.
Food or drink related.
I'm not sure now.
I must start placing a pad and pencil on my nightstand to make notes of my dreams. I used to do that a few years ago but I've gotten out of the habit. Sometimes a dream can be so vivid when you first wake in the morning but then it can be gone in a flash.

Recently, I had a nightmare of sorts.
Every once in a while, I have this kind of dream.
It can be violent or sometimes it's just as simple as the Devil chasing me.
Really? Yes. Don't ask.
"Get behind me Devil. You ain't takin' me tonight!"- I'd say in a Flip Wilson kind of voice.
Flip?
Google him if you don't know.


During this type of dream, I've been known to scream out loud.
I wake The Mister.
The cat jumps off the bed.
Koko lifts her head up and just looks at me- like what the hey Dad?

In this most recent nightmare I was sitting at the very desk I am at now, typing away. I see out the window to my right two figures.
Maybe my parents.
I get up and go to the office door and try to open it.
A strange presence is holding the door closed from the other side.
Eventually, I manage to pull the door towards me enough to squeeze out.
There's really nothing in the hall that I can see but I feel something strange.
White and all-encompassing.
Cold. Strong. Unusual.
I turn to the left to see if this presence is standing there.
Nothing.
Then, I remember the two figures outside the window.
"I'll be safe if I get outside the front door"- I tell myself.
I run for it flinging it open and yelling at the top of my lungs-
"Help me Mum and Dad!! Help Me!!"

This is where I woke up screaming waking everyone else in the bedroom.
The Mister's hand is on my shoulder trying to quiet my person.
Yikes!
I have no idea what it was but it was a "thing" that only my Mum and Dad could help me conquer and help me they did.
They forced me to scream waking me up from my nightmare.
Yikes!

Come to think of it, maybe it was the macaroni and cheese.
Huh...
I just don't know...

Wednesday, June 10, 2020

ROBBLOG #843-Sharing my Knowledge




If you've read my previous ROBBLOG, you'll remember it was all about a new direction that Swisssh Radio is taking.

Then today, as I was doing a Google search for radio stations that were popular in central Ontario back in the 60's and 70's, a blog of mine showed up in the search. The blog posted in September 2012 was all about "mechanical" changes at radio stations. So to balance the programming aspects of today in the last blog here's a refresher course on how radio stations ran back in the day.

It seems that in the fall of 2012, I had been reading various online sites of interest to “old” radio people about today's radio stations and how they compared to radio stations in the past. Now, some of this stuff will be foreign to those of you who were never broadcasters but back in the day I was familiar with these terms and associated equipment. None of these items exist in today’s high tech radio world. Computers rule!

Back when I began my radio career around 1972, we didn’t have computer programming or digital recorders.
We use tape machines and cassettes. All have disappeared from the face of radio broadcasting today, although you might find one stuffed in a closet at a station. 

I remember using Ampex and Otari reel-to-reel tape machines that housed 8 inch reels of tape. Sometimes we used 10 inch reels to record and broadcast a programme that say had to run in the overnight period. The
reels were massive and were held on the Ampex machines with big grey-coloured "things" we called “hubs.”

The tape was made- for the most part, by Ampex or Scotch.
I remember how brittle the tape became after being used time and time again and the background hiss they developed- like scratches on a 45 rpm record.

This caused many problems especially when I worked at a station in Midland that ran two hours of religion every weeknight. I “prayed” that the tapes would not break while playing.
Occasionally, they did. 
I would quickly try to re-thread the tape back onto the machine. By the way, the tape split- usually, when I took a washroom break.
Anyway, I would get the programme back on air as soon as I could. In the meantime, station phones were ringing off the hook. The calls were usually from religious cronies telling me I was going to Hell and that Satan was forcing me to break the tapes.
Indeed! Satan had time to look in on me and force tapes to break...

Cart Machines with that Cart 403 being a commercial
The eight inch tapes were used for production of commercials and each announcer had one. 
We also had grease pencils, splicing tape and razor blades to splice commercials together- especially if sound effects were used in the commercial production. There was no quick or easy way to edit tape. Editing commercials on today's production computers is a breeze.
Cripes, we never even had cell phones in the 70’s or the 80’s.
Imagine, most phones had holes on them to dial a number- not buttons.

In the "on air" studio, music was played on records which were placed on turntables. Vinyl records- the same records making a comeback today! When a 45 rpm disc was placed on the turntable- also being revived these days, a 45 adapter had to be placed on the turntable to fill in the big hole in the 45 rpm record. Long playing albums didn’t require the adapter of course.

We played our commercials on machines called “cart machines”. They sort of looked like 8 track tapes but had only small bits of recording tape on them- 20 seconds, 40 seconds. At the most a few minutes.
Some stations recorded top charted songs onto these carts and played them on the cart machines to save wear and tear on the 45 vinyl discs. Discs- like recording tape, could sound scratchy after a few hundred plays. This ensured a better on-air sound since some 45’s were made of better quality vinyl than others.

This is not me but I sat in front of a board like
 that at CKMP Midland- my first on-air job.
We had “pots” on our boards in the studio.
Not of the kitchen cooking variety. These were knobs announcers used to turn levels up or down for mics, turntables or cart machines. When I first began in radio I operated an old RCA board with big black knobs and tubes inside. The tunes frequently burned out and you would lose sound to a turntable or cart machine. While you struggled being “live” on air with only one turntable, the station engineer would crawl over top of you, open the back of the board and replace the tube.
Fun times!

Hey, do you remember typewriters?
They kind of looked like computers- only without the screen or tower under the desk or the internet.
We used to type words on typewriters.
Imagine.
These typewriters didn’t “save” the information we wrote however. Not like today's computers and devices.
We typed news stories, show prep, death notices the weather and more.

Of course, typewriters also had something like a tape inside, only it was called a ribbon. The ribbon had ink on it and when a typewriter key hit the ribbon, the letter of the alphabet you hit on the typewriter keys displayed on the piece of paper you had placed on the typewriter’s roller.
Sounds confusing- doesn’t it?
The keys looked just like today’s computer keyboards and are in the same place- except for digits such as the dash or the dollar sign- which one always had to search for along the keyboard.

Out in the newsroom at a radio station, we had a huge "Teletype machine" that brought us up to the minute news and weather from Broadcast News. It was like a computer only it was large- like a fridge. It was heavy and gray in colour. It clacked away all day and all night in the news room. 
It hardly ever stopped.
Now and then one had to re-fill the teletype machine using huge rolls of flimsy, yellow paper.
I remember the paper would frequently get stuck as it was printing the 1030 News Summary which you needed in order to read the 11 o’clock news!

We had phones as I mentioned previously but there was one phone dial that was used only twice a day at radio stations. It was on the transmitter board- usually out in the hallway at the radio station. One had to “dial” up the power of the transmitter in the morning and “dial” it down at night. You see, in Canada AM stations had to cut power at night so as not to interfere with other AM signals. AM signals travel quite far at night. That’s why in the Central Ontario area we were inundated with signals from big radio stations from the U.S.
That’s when our music industry was lost.
Everyone listened to the big American stations because local stations played religion or some crap music at night- like Peggy Lee or Percy Faith.
Local programmers never got it.
Funny, today I like that “crap” music.

This bouncing of signals at night gave our music in Canada an American twist. 
Sadly, we gave up on many of our own artists for the Brits and Americans.
At least things have changed in the last few decade. We have artists in this country who sell their music around the world.  Even so, many stations still rely on American Stars and content. Just look at various station websites. Pictures of Artists featured on station home pages are mostly American. I blame it on Music Departments, Programme Directors and music surveys.
Enough about that.

Here's something else we used frequently in the "olden days".
Patch cords.
Patch cords were used to bring in programmes from national networks or to take one studio off the air and put another studio “live” to air.
These boards looked like a Bell Canada Operator board.
“Number, please…”
That is- if you know what an old Bell Canada board looked like.

There have been many changes technically over the years.
It’s a whole new ballgame with computers and computer programmes.
That’s why I can run two radio stations from one studio using 3 computers. My stations can be heard all around the world whereas a station like CFOR in Orillia- where I worked on-air back in the 70’s, barely got as far south as Barrie, Ontario.

Finally, to end the broadcast day we usually played O Canada when the station left the air at midnight. Many stations were not on air 24 hours a day- except for large, big city stations. The anthem was usually pre-recorded on a cart (see above) and played on a cart machine. (also see above).
The National Anthem was preceded by an announcement saying something like:

“CFOR 1570 in Orillia has now completed its broadcast day. We will return to the air at 6 a.m. Have a good evening.”
Cue music: O Canada.

Those were the Days, my friend...


Thursday, June 4, 2020

ROBBLOG #842- Swisssh Radio


Note: One of my other endeavours is my online radio station- Swisssh Radio. I thought I would post what you are about to read below because you can also see and read all about Swisssh Radio and Sister Station Starlite...Soft & Brite just to the right on this page. "Sister station" is radio "speak". Now the words below will not "seem" like mine, since I write "professionally" in these words like a station owner/manager should.
Strange, I know and there's no cussing. So enjoy. Learn something and for feck sakes listen to my darn radio stations. Whaddahyagot to lose?

Hello Swisssh Listeners,

We hope everything is good in your "covid" world. Physical distancing  and constant hand-washing is the way in this  "new world" of ours it would seem- at least for the immediate future.

Here at Swisssh, this covid mess has given us time to reflect.
We have been on the air for 13 years and we are thinking of the future and have made some changes.
We know in time- we don't now when, the plug will be pulled- literally- and Swisssh- and our sister station Starlite...Soft & Brite will broadcast no more.
Sad to think about that- isn't it?
This station has given listeners a great product over the years and it's been a part of our life for more than a decade- even surviving a move from Orillia, Ontario to Vancouver Island.

An early LOGO
That move west lost us many listeners but we carried on as best we could.
You see, we have no revenue, so fees for music rights, servers and website costs comes from our own pocket. We do play PSA's and commercials from time to time but we do that as a public service.

In recent weeks we have been referring to Swisssh Radio as "The Island's Golden Classics". That's because we are moving to what we call in the radio biz- a format change.
Nothing drastic.

We got to thinking that the audience we are playing to around the globe is in the neighbourhood of 55+. Now, don't feel alienated if you are not in that demographic yet. Your time will come
Insert smiley face here!😄

A station manager back in the 80's in Ontario once said that in radio we have to be mindful not to alienate an audience. Words to remember, especially in these days of around the world broadcasting on the Internet.

In the past couple of years, we have found it increasingly difficult to programme newer music with so much rap and what we refer to as "valley girl" voices in today's hits.
Do you know what we mean?

Now, we are not giving up on artists like Jann Arden, Sam Smith, Michael Buble, Serena Ryder, Shawn Mendes, Adele, Tyler Shaw, Ed Sheeran or Barbra Streisand. You'll hear them as well but in carefully chosen songs.

In the next while, we have some produced promos- from our "voice"- Jeffery, that will begin to air. The familiar Swisssh jingles will still be heard and our local Island voice- Marnie Martin, will remain with us. We'll also continue to welcome listeners from around the world-
just like you!


Musically, we have been busy adding and subtracting songs.
Just yesterday we added one hundred classics from Canadian artists from the 50's to late 60's. Some of these groups and artists had regional hits across the country and we believe there's some wonderful pop hits that parts of Canada missed- depending upon where you lived. We are surprised with the recordings and the history behind them. Growing up, our 60's focus was mainly Toronto stations like CHUM, CKFH and CFTR. If they didn't play it, we knew nothing about the song- even though it might have been a "hit" in Western Canada.

So faithful listeners, we hope you like our change to the "classics" while we move "forward". Back in the 60's and 70's there were radio stations that played "The Music of Your Life". It was 40's, 50's and early 60's music. Now, decades later, we have stepped up and sincerely hope the music we are playing at "The Island's Golden Classics" is indeed "The Music of YOUR Life".

Thanks for your support and please spread the word about Swisssh and our new format- "The Island's Golden Classics" It's easy to listen.

1. At our website www.swisssh.ca

2. Through www.tunein.com (search Swisssh)

3. At Simple Radio www.simpleradio.com (Search Swisssh)
In both cases you can download an app to your mobile or tablet. So easy and free.

4. Voice-activated devices. You might have to refine this and try the words a couple of times but 
usually you just say to your device:
"ask tunein to play s w i s s s h"
Remember to use the letters. Don't say "swisssh".

5. Lastly, we are on many radio sites around the world like Streema.
Do a search for Swisssh Radio and you'll see.

Happy LISTENING.
e-mail: swisssh@yahoo.com


Tuesday, June 2, 2020

ROBBLOG #841


There's a song that goes like this...

We gotta get outta this place,
If it's the last thing we ever do.
We gotta get outta this place-
Boy, there's a better life,
For me and you.

(You could insert "Girl" as well. If you like.)

I'll bet a lot of people are thinking along the lines of those lyrics these days...
Folks stuck in retirement homes because of covid for months with no family or friends allowed to visit.
Canadians still trapped somewhere in the world who would like to be home in Canada.
All those living in that Fucked up country a stone's throw away.

Hey, did you hear that "psychic" Sylvia Browne predicted this 2020 Covid disease years ago?
She passed back in 2013- before she said she would pass at 88 years of age.
That's a bitch, eh?
Must have been a shock when she walked up to St. Peter at the gates and said-
"Look, Pete. I'm not supposed to be here yet!"
"Peter would smile and say- "Lady, like I've never heard that before!"

So she left before all this came to pass.
Oh, she did add- before she passed of course, that Covid will leave us as mysteriously as it arrived and then come back 10 years from now- only to disappear forever.
Huh.
I love psychics.

Covid, things are easing here in Beautiful British Columbia.
Restaurants are opening with less seating and masked servers.
Stores that had closed- like Winners, are opening up.
We've had both a haircut and a chiropractor appointment.
My, that's progress it's just that summer will never be the same.

There's no PNE this year. That's CNE for you Easterners.
No "39 Days of Summer" here in the Cowichan. It's a free music festival that- as the name says, runs 39 days.
No parades.
No theatre- indoors or out.

No family or friends coming to the Island to say hello or stay for a day or two.
We hope that this changes in the next month.

BC- unlike PEI and Newfoundland who are not allowing tourists, is allowing visitors but would prefer if you have a damn good reason- like family. You can only camp or RV in a BC Provincial Park if you are a resident of this province. However, I don't believe you'll be turned back by provincial border guards like in the quarantined Maritimes.
If you do drive out here a head's up to put the "pedal to the medal" going through Manitoba. They don't want you either but at least they'll let you stop for fuel, food and a pee break!

Some happy Americans pictured.
The Dad may have originally been from Alberta...
Next- and this is a biggie- there are no Americans?
Whaaaatt?
Nope.

Some are a little busy anyway killing black Americans, torching police cars, stores and anything else that will burn as well as carrying anti-racist signs whose words will slowly dissolve- once the marching and burning and brick-throwing is all done.
I don't know why our Prime Minister and folks on Twitter are "horrified".
We've all seen this stuff before. In fact you could insert old news footage and no one would be the wiser. Here in Canada we only throw bricks at stores and lite police cars aflame when our sports teams lose- or win.

Now listen, I know right here in this very country of Canada, we have race problems as well.
This is where Stockwell Day says- in a high-pitched voice, "whaaat?" and Doug Ford talks like his true self after resembling something closer to a human being during his covid updates.

We are not clean kitties.
Our litter is soiled.
We have our prejudices.
We all do.
Even me.
I try not to but sometimes it stains you like beet juice on a white linen tablecloth.
You have to really try and rub it out with a permanent "stain remover".

I see the photos- I don't watch newscasts, realizing it's Lightfoot's "Black Day in July"all over again.
It's Barry McGuire's "Eve of Destruction- both here at home and internationally.
I love that song- even though the context is not a happy one.

Speaking of songs, Les Crane's "Desiderata" is probably one of the finest pieces of spiritual verse
set to music that has been recorded. I believe an entire religion could be formed around the words in Desiderata- even with the God reference included- "whatever you perceive him (her) to be"

I digress...
Anyone flying in from Europe will have to isolate.
No Canada Day celebrations either.
Egads!!
Cruise ships can't dock at Victoria's port off Dallas Road until at least November. You should see Downtown Victoria when thousands of cruisers walk off the ships and into the downtown.
Like ants to molasses.
...gotta get out of this place where we are at.

Anyhoo, kids, that's my update on life and Covid for this the 841st edition.

Oh, I just remembered. Tom Jones is 80 on June 7th.
Like I needed to read that!
Good Lawrd!

Not a recent photo of Tom
I wonder if I'll be writing and typing at 80?

I honestly don't know and I can't ask Sylvia- for obvious reasons...

Tuesday, May 26, 2020

ROBBLOG #840- Let it Go. Literally.


Today it's all about bodily functions.

One in particular.
Urination.
If you need to pee frequently because you are a child, pregnant or old like me, don't venture far from your ceramic bowl during this Toyota Corolla Virus.

Here on Vancouver Island in British Columbia, things are opening up- slowly.
Restaurants, Chiropractors, Hair Salons even Winners are dusting off the cash registers and windexing the plexiglas so we all an shop or look beautiful once again.
That is a good thing. Just don't expect to pee on a whim.

We've been dining out already. It's been a while.
Again, that is a good thing. It's a gift for being good and socially conscious.
Both establishments have had washrooms open.

Digressing for just a moment.
Islanders being one thing, there's you easterners, in particular Torontonians who gathered in mass numbers recently- 10,000 or more, at Trinity-Bellwoods park to bare firm pectoral titties and hardened biceps to the sun. The ladies bared something or other too. Like pink-painted toenails.
Bleech!

Many Toronto types just needed a warm, sunny day to socialize besides tan.
Either way-
Naughty. Naughty. Naughty you haughty Torontonians.
We Islanders know better and practice physical distancing. It became second nature to us very easly on. Well, except for a neighbour who has no clue.
I figure cancer or COPD will get said neighbour first anyhow.

Things opening up again is quite nice and it's a return to something we assume will be part of the new normal. However, along with the "new normal" comes new problems such as I hinted at so far in this blog-
Finding a place to pee.

The restaurants where we have dined have facilities open as I said but if you are not dining, where does one go- literally?
The Mister says- "Just stop and go in a bush!"
With my luck a lovely police officer will happen by and I will get charged with all manner of indecent behaviour reminiscent of  the mid-1980's when many "things" were done in bushes. I believe things still are done in some bushes in some parks like Allen Gardens or maybe Stanley Park or Stoney Hill not far from our home in the Cowichan.
Still, it's a chance to hang one's dongle outside one's pants near a west coast cedar and let the pressure flow.


I have thought about Depends but I know depending on Depends will come soon enough.
I still prefer to flop is out myself for as long as I can before I sit safely on a bench in my Depends and let loose with a sly smile pasted across my lips.

I can't imaging how it will feel to have all that wet bulk hanging down there in my BVD's.
Walking has to be like- "soggy, slosh, squirt, slosh, soggy, wet. Repeat"
Good Gawd.
I cannot imagine.

Anyhoo, be aware if you spend a morning guzzling coffee for the afternoon hours could be spent needing to pee- and badly, while stopping by gas stations, Tim's, flower shops and Vintage stores asking if the washroom is available.
No...Not asking- begging to use a washroom.
Mostly the answer is "Sorry sir. Our washrooms are not open because of Covid."
I wish I could pee on demand...
It's awful but we all know Toyota Corolla 19 is spread mostly by old adults peeing into ceramic toilet bowls.

If you do luck out running into a Good Samaritan, do wipe the taps and toilet flusher with an antiseptic wipe or spray and for goodness sake, wash your hands.

That's all of my Toyota Corolla wisdom for today.
I gotta run.

I have to pee- again...

Wednesday, May 20, 2020

ROBBLOG #839- More House Musings


Don't know about where you live in Canada but British Columbia is carefully re-opening.

I just heard Dr. Bonnie report only two new Covid cases.
That's encouraging.
She's also allowing restaurants, chiropractors and hair salons to open- with safety conditions.
The Mister and I already have our hair appointment booked.
I can hardly wait- masks in hand.

So, away from Toyota Corolla and on to more important things- like houses.
The Mister and I got quite excited recently when we saw a house we really, really liked. Now, grant you, our track record has not been great. We've wanted to see a few houses over the past weeks and either they sell in a snap or the seller wants the buyer- us, to have the purchase cash in our hip pocket.
That is not going to happen.

A couple of days back we see this house that has been listed for 88 days.
We can't understand why we didn't see it before.
It might have been the unruly gardens and huge fish pond that turned us off thinking better homes were out there. We soon learned that there is a lot of garbage for sale out there at inflated island prices!
I dunno...
So we call the realtor- who we know, and say we are interested.
We ask if he thinks this house would be our style.
He replies in like twenty minutes and says- it's possible but a firm offer has just been made.
WTF??


It's on market for 88 days and now we find this little gem and someone has made an offer?
Christ on a Cracker!
This is just the way our luck rolls.
Now, offers do fall apart and we just happen to know that the inspector saw the house yesterday. Maybe there's something wrong with the place that we would be willing to fix, whereas the buyer behind the present offer wouldn't.
It's a long shot but...

We did drive up Mount Tzouhalem where the house is located to have a peek at the exterior. We also saw the exterior of a house on the same street that a friend saw earlier in the day.
Spectacular views outside of mountains and lake- not ocean, however, the inside needs work.
Work such as a new kitchen and then we are told there's a messy back yard to contend with.
With all the work required this house is listed at over 600,000 dollars.
I know- Cripes!
Island prices!
Geesh!

We're not in a huge rush thank goodness and we're thinking that June might bring many new listings with some of the Toyota Corolla rules being softened.

Today, the federal health minister is saying maybe we should wear masks when physical distancing is not possible. The Prime Minister has started wearing a mask. I know we have to wear one when we have our hair cut. What's going to happen with future dentist appointments?
Who really knows?

What I do know- we are looking forward to going out for breakfast one of these fine Island Summer Days.
How about you?

Friday, May 15, 2020

ROBBLOG #838- Summer Games


Summertime, Summertime, Sum, Sum, Summertime...

Is it?
It sure doesn't feel like it but I glance at the calendar to my right and yes sir it is "summertime".
I guess it's because of our uninvited guest- Toyota Corolla, who is still hanging around and not even helping with the dishes or paying his way.
He's cruel and like fish after a few weeks starts to stink.

I'm not sure how the rest of the country is feeling but here on the Island- and BC in general, we are doing good. Cases are low and deaths too. Here in the Cowichan we have no cases- so I am told, which keeps spirits high and yet we are all still keeping our two metres. This weekend Dr. Bonnie says we can expand our "bubble". We can choose a group to socialize without hugging- unless you want to but don't change groups.
Well, that's something, isn't it?

Did I mention The Mister and I have been looking for new digs through this viral virus challenge?
We have.
I guess we had nothing better to do during this "Pandemic" so we thought we'd house-hunt.
We'd like something that offers us more yard and more privacy.
I don't know why but since I have gotten older, privacy seems more important to me than ever and the one thing we don't have where we currently live on the Island is privacy. Not that I nude sunbathe or anything, all I want is some private time without someone walking past encouraging me to join in conversation- usually gossip.

I am sure I have mentioned our looney-tunes neighbour across the way who either hides in a garage, behind a bush or- brazen as fuck, stands at the end of the driveway and listens in to our conversations. We move to the garden where we can have some privacy.

When we bought here we knew these houses were "close" but now that all the homes near and around us are occupied we just didn't realize how much privacy we have lost.

We couldn't even think of doing this bit of business on our Lanai
For instance when I stand on our Lanai in the morning- coffee in hand, I enjoy that caffeine-infused beverage with six or seven other homes who all have Lanais facing towards ours. Recently we have moved Muskoka Chairs that have sat at the front of our house since moving in, to the garden in the backyard. I actually like them there much better and if I crouch down behind the still-growing Portuguese Laurel hedge I can almost convince myself I have a modicum of privacy.
Still it's better than being under the evil stare and big ears of the neighbour.

It's one of a handful of reasons we are looking for a new place to settle which has been made rather stressful by having to listen to the "advice" of estate agents who believe us to be either children or feeble old men.
It's as if we've never bought a house before!
We both go into this whole process with a positive outlook until you have to play this stupid real estate game. One agent playing another like a puppet in a bad marionette show.

Agents don't look at the property in question that we are interested in.
No, they quote the price of a house that sold "recently" in the "neighbourhood" and believe that the house we are looking at should be priced based on that other house- even though the house we are looking at bears no resemblance to the price of the house they are quoting and looks nothing like the house they "recently" sold in the "neighbourhood".
Oh, and don't expect them to tell you what house it was that sold "recently".
Oh, no.
Privacy concerns.
They can't even say why the sellers are actually dumping the house we're interested in.
Could be a marriage breakup because someone couldn't keep his or her "pecker" in their pants.
Now, we wouldn't want that to get out and affect "neighbourhood" house prices- would we?
It's fucking stupid.
The whole game.

The game continues...
In the morning, one sees a house one likes and shows interest.
The agent notes the interest and contacts the sellers agent to see "what's up" price-wise etc.
Then your agent gets back to you in the afternoon and believe or not another person is seeing the house for the second time and may make an offer.
Who would have thunk it?
Who would have seen that coming?
The house has been on the market for a long, long time and all of a sudden we are advised that someone else is taking a "second" look and may make an offer.
WTF?
It makes me want to believe the seller's agent stirred the pot and called the people who saw the house- maybe a couple of weeks -if not months ago, to tell them another couple- that's us, are interested and if they are still thinking of purchasing the house, they better get a move on!
For Fuck sakes!
What chance do a pair of seniors have up against that?
I'll tell you...
Less than an (expletive) of a chance.

Sorry about the language but I may find myself a little pissed off at the system.

Meanwhile, the Mister and I are having a think about this whole game while summer struggles to feel like summer. Also, remember to use sunblock and stay two metres distant from bullshit or the next person you pass.

Sunday, May 10, 2020

ROBBLOG #837- Walk like a Zombie


Another week with our friend Mr. Covid.

I haven't blogged in the past week because honestly, I haven't had anything new, interesting, funny or "made up" that I could think of to put down in words.
Cripes, is the Toyota Corolla virus wiping my mind of all original thought and anything remotely funny and or interesting.
Maybe....

One day feels like another- doesn't it?
"What day is this?"- I ask The Mister.
"Dunno..."- he says, so I ask Alexa.
Thanks be to "all that is holy" for our friend Alexa- even though at times she's a stubborn beotch!

I love shopping for "stuff" and its been months since I've shopped.
No rummaging through vintage shops or antique stores.
No perusing the aisles for nice stuff I don't really need at Winners.

Sadly, these days it's only a quick trip to the dollar store for coffee filters or cleaning supplies.
Then, a dash into Superstore for Pride of Arabia Coffee, my English Home magazine or PC Hot Cross Buns.
But that's it.
Walmart for some pharmacy needs- shampoo, toothpaste and such.

We did slip into a store here on the island called "Buckerfields".
I like to call it Fu**erfields- just for fun!
They have dog and cat treats, garden stuff and an outdoor garden centre.
Last week The Mister and I bought a new yellow rose- highly scented.
A real beaute!
I planted it just below our stairs into the garden and The Mister has bitched and grumped at me ever since.
He claims when he stops, he can't smell the roses.
"Nonsense"- I say, "I can smell the rose from several feet away."

He's asked me to move it.
I say no. A rose laid is a rose played.
He still whines about it every day.
Well it's something to look forward to anyway.


I still say that going through this Covid time is like being on The Walking Dead- without the Zombies. Of course we have a neighbour who I am sure is a Zombie or a relative of a Zombie.
Maybe the undead- which is practically like a Zombie except in the case of a Vampire.
Perhaps even a spawn of Satan and we all know Satan lives because he does all the bad things according to born-again preachers. If he didn't exist these preachers would be asking The Prime Minister for money.
So, pick one. They all fit.

Everyday people shuffle past our house and gardens like the TV Zombies.
There's nothing to talk about. Just the same old same old.
Nothing new to look at- well, maybe our yellow rose.
Not even a new pair of socks to brag about. Of course, that may change this week as BC loosens the constraints of the Pandemic- even though our stores have remained open throughout.

I practically forget what it feels like to sit down in a restaurant and order a meal- and not having to clean up and do dishes or at the very least load the dishwasher when I leave the table.

So that's it folks.
Nothing much happening 'round here.
Oh, there was one funny I heard- nothing to do with me personally.
You may have heard that Little Richard passed this week. 
He was a little effeminate.
Okay- a lot.
He was a little flamboyant but boy could be perform.
I loved it when he appeared on the late night talk shows with mascara and lipstick!

Anyway,
He was meeting Elvira, Mistress of the Dark, for the first time.
She had a cigarette clenched between her puckered, blackened lips.
Little Richard pulled the smoking fag away and threw it on the ground.
He looked her right in the eye and said:

"Chile, if God had wanted you to smoke cigarettes he would have built a chimbley on  top of your haid!"

Monday, May 4, 2020

ROBBLOG#836- May I Speak with The Evil Genius?


Holy Shite. I may have something here.

No, I don't mean the Toyota Corolla virus.
I mean an idea I blogged about a couple of blogs back may have merit.

Just where in Hell did this corona come from and why didn't Iron Man, Ant Man, or Deadpool stop it? Sorry for the "Superhero" analogies. I've watched a few Marvel movies lately...

No, the scuttlebutt concerns a country and its people that may have released this virus on the world.
Did it just happen naturally or is somebody or someone at the bottom of this- or top even?
Is there a new world-wide administrator of evil?
The devil in human form?
Satan's son?
Jason Kenny?

The truth appears to be that "newspeople" are speculating that just maybe our friends way over there across the sea in a far, far eastern country- that may or may not be holding two Canadians on unproven charges, didn't completely level with the rest of the world?
What now?
Our "friends" in this hugely populated place may not have told the whole truth and nothing but the truth?
Say it isn't so...

Now, I might believe that Kim Jong Jock Strap in North Korea might have lied to us.
I mean that's what North Koreans do.
Well, that and setting off nuclear-style bombs into the stratosphere or ocean or somewhere but to believe our dear "friends" in that far off place would withhold the truth from their people as well as ours?
I mean aren't these are the same fine folks that make all that crap we lovingly buy in the Dollar Store that now costs 4 dollars- the good crap anyway.

It just might be true.
"Unproven" reports indicate that leaders in this cold, vastly populated land-holding may have realized that the Pandemic was already out of hand but kept it on the QT until they were able to order vast amounts of medical equipment- including masks, from other countries- possibly Canada, in order to prepare for the virus.
Of course months later they sold those same masks back to us at inflated prices.
That's called business.
Some information may even have been kept from the WHO- the world health organization NOT the singing group.

"Hello? May I speak to the Evil Genius person?
......Pardon me?
Oh, any evil genius will do..."
Well blow me over with a wet noodle and prop me up with a chop stick!
These same friends- as it came to pass, most recently may have let it be known that they appreciated Canada's restraint in not blaming them for perhaps unleashing the virus while another dumb-fuck leader of another country did the opposite.

Surely I can't mean "those" Asian friends?
Well hold onto your wok because that is exactly who I may be pointing an alleged finger in their general eastern direction.

Note: From my years in radio, I know how to use words like " maybe, alleged, unconfirmed reports say, might have happened" and not to forget "appear to be true yet unsubstantiated".

Now, it might just be a big, bad, mean son of a bitch who lives somewhere in a vast Communist- yet westernized, country.
You know, like that guy with the iron hat who wreaked havoc on the world in a long ago James Bond movie- long before mobiles, big screen TV's and the Internet. Yes little grasshoppers, time did exist before such items yet after the dinosaurs roamed the earth and not too long after rotary dial phones hit the marketplace.
Geesh, the things one has to explain these days.

Imagine if there was someone vile and downright mean enough like Andrew Scheer and to be fair to women- Lisa Raitt, who thought he/she could destroy most of and then rule the rest of the world. If you've ever read a book in your life- a real book with paper pages and a hardcover, or watched a movie, you're probably halfway there to believing that such a fanatic can or does exist.
So, why not peg a faraway, enlightened, eastern landmass as the bad person?
Yes, Russia could also be in the running but Mr. Putin is still very, very busy trying to pretend the virus isn't real as thousands become sick in his country. Also- if I could remember his name, that asshole running Brazil could be an evil-doer of grand, worldwide proportions. In fact he already is. He told his county the other day to put on their big boy/girl panties. This virus was only a bad cold.
Now that may be a loose translation but it's in the ballpark.

Finally, the scenario: An evil person breaks into a lab in a far eastern land to steal some Corona 19 which he or she takes to a lab high in the mountains. The laboratory has a fabulous view by the way. There he/she makes buckets of the virus to spread throughout the world with an army of evil-doers- possibly resembling thousands of Peter McKay lookalikes holding assault rifles in one hand, bags of viruses in the other while placing yet another hand over their rotting, evil hearts.
Now, that may be a stretch but I am sure you can see the outline for a superhero movie.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I sincerely hope I have given you all something to think about here today.

Who would play the "superhero" who crushes the evil geniuses- you ask?
"John Chretien"- I reply. (giggle)