ROBBLOG # 222

This is going to be a rather strange read for some of you.

This Blog comes from the “Spiritual” side of the universe- from the spiritual side of me if you like. I was asked to open my channel and listen. The “person” sending the message has been having difficulty having someone make note of what they needed to say and pass it along.
I guess my door was open.

I hadn’t planned to write a Blog for today. In fact I have been working on another segment of- “Out in the Barn”- The story of Betsy, Lilloweth and Helen. You can read Part I on yesterday’s Blog. Part II will come Friday.

So, today or rather late- early in the morning Thursday, I had this “message” come to me. It will make sense to someone who reads my Blogs or it may be someone who is reading my Blog for the first time. I have never, ever been asked to relay a message in this fashion- but what do I know?
The message for that “someone” will be found in a container of some description. It will be a sign for someone. I am told it will be an affirmation, perhaps that there is more- much more, after this time.

There is a symbol involved which resembles two crescent moons interlocked, with the top points of each moon intersected with each other- like two Letter “C’s”- one being a mirror image of the other. It could be a lock of some description. When the “C’s” or “moon’s” are turned clockwise and counter-clockwise at the same time, the movement will unlock something. There will be a quiet “click”.

This lock will be found attached to a piece of leather or rawhide- which may be one and the same.
That’s what I was told.
I don’t argue.
Keep in mind that sometimes these symbols or pictures are not precisely translated. It could be precise or just a single, small part of the description I receive.
It is not exact.
Sometimes the messenger fails to send me a clear image.
I am just the “receiver” of the message after all.

This “lock’ is attached to a container- possibly made of porcelain. The container has the shape of a “bell jar” on top. It sits- or sat, on a small walnut-coloured table to the right of a raised floor, in front of a large pair of French Windows. There’s a balcony outside the doors with perhaps a lake or ocean on the other side. There appears to be a breeze because side curtains are blowing lightly in a breeze.

It is not clear but I think I am being told that this description of place is where the “container” once sat. It may not be there now but it will be in the memory of the person or persons this message was intended for.

I am also being shown a picture of Bob Hope in his younger movie days- when he did those travel films with Bing Crosby.
I know.
This sounds nuts.
I thought this was strange too but Bob Hope did make an appearance here in Orillia decades ago when he was appearing at the CNE in Toronto.
I feel the message is for someone in this area.
It may not be for someone who knows me at all.
In particular, I am being told to look at the shape of Mr. Hope’s nose.
I do not know why.

This container will have something inside which will have great meaning for those that either have this container in their possession or are about to have it in their possession.
I believe the former, rather than the latter.

From the outside, this moon-shaped “locking” device will look like a decoration. Only the person who placed the message- it could be a note or another object, will know its true meaning as well as the person or persons who open the vessel upon understanding this message.

So, there you have it. I have never forwarded a message such as this before. I was ready to retire for the evening when the message came through to me.
I don’t always understand what I am being told.
It’s not for me to unravel it’s meaning or comment about the content.
The message is not for me but it could be for you if you are reading this RobBlog today.

Good Luck.

ROBBLOG # 221

The other night we were driving back home from the Casino- where we had gone for a Valentine's Dinner. As we drove along the Rama Road, the following story came to my mind.
I do not know why.
It's called:

Out in the Barn

One night out in the barn, Betsy stood quietly in her stall, silently chewing on her cud. As she did, she felt a cool wind caress her hind quarters.

Lilloweth, who stood in the stall next to her, was listening to a country music show on the old Philco Barn Radio. Her tail was jauntily swissshing left and right to the strains of a banjo and steel guitar. “Country Roundup” was her favourite radio show and Farmer Frank always left the radio on for Lilloweth- not only on Thursday evenings when Country Roundup was aired but on every night of every week.
Something about contented cows he said.

“Lilloweth Dear.”-Betsy spoke to her over the sound of the “old country” station straining from the radio’s 4 inch speaker- “Do you feel a bit of a breeze?”

“Well we do live in a Barn, Betts” says Lilloweth, “We always feel a breeze, especially when that old north wind howls through the cracks in the barnboard.”

“No Dear, it’s not that it’s more of a “whoosh” not just a breeze. Helen Darling…”

Helen lived in the cow stall on the other side of the wooden pillar- supporting the overhead loft, near the big barn door. “Helen, Darling, can you feel that breeze over at your place, my goodness it’s positively “cruel shoes” over here.

“Cruel Shoes?”- laughed Helen. “Holy cow Betts, I haven’t heard that one in years. I just love Mr. Steve Martin!”

“Yes Dear, so do I but more to the point, how’s the air over there?”-Betsy was impatient as well as cool!

“Now that you mention it Toots, it is a bit breezy. I guess my country two-step was keeping my tushy warm”- added Lilloweth from her housestall.

Helen turned her head and looked in the direction of the big barn door.
“Betsy, I see the problem. There is a leakage of warm air.”

“Really”-mooed Betsy, “How so?”

“The door is open about 6 inches or so. I’ll have it fixed in a jiffy Hun.” Helen manouvered her 600 pound brown and white body out of the stall, backing it out very carefully.

“I really appreciate that Dear!”- Betsy yelled over her stall wall.

Meanwhile, Lilloweth was stomping all four hoofs on the floor of her stall as Foggy Mountain Breakdown blasted from the radio.

“Almost there Sweetie”- called out Helen. She reached the door a minute later and lifting a massive rear leg, gave it a huge push.
It slammed closed with such fierceness that bits of chaff and dust fell to the barn floor through the cracks in the floor of the loft above.

“Done Darling. The offending door is closed and the breeze has been quelled.” Helen called from the doorway.

“Helen, you are a Dear!”-cried Betsy.

“Oh for pete’s sake don’t mention it. Glad to do it for you.” Helen said with a broad smile.

“You Dear, sweet bovine, I can feel the warmth encircling my backside already.”-says Betsy in her most loving and warm tone. “Sorry to have bothered you.”

“Oh Hun, no problem. I was just browsing through my latest Hello Canada Mag. Nothing more. No big whup!

“Well I am grateful nonetheless.”- said Betsy.

Turning to Lilloweth she says-
“Lilly, it was the big barn door. Helen says it was open just a few inches. That’s why I could feel such a draft.”

“Well Darling, I am glad you’re feeling the warmth now”- said Lilloweth, “by the way, doesn’t the straw seem to smell so sweetly tonight?”

“Yes indeed.”- Betsy scooped up a mouthful. “I watched Farmer Frank sling pitchfork after pitchfork into the loft just yesterday. It must be a new batch from the straw shed.”

“I suppose Darling. Gee Betsy…” says Lilloweth, “I can hardly wait for the first day of spring. Just to smell the fresh, green grass.”

“Neither can I but I fear we have a few weeks yet before we feel that warm sunshine on our broad backs”- Betsy sighed.

“At least it’s on the way.” Lilloweth replied with glee.

“What are you two ladies going on about?” It was Helen. She had strolled down the barn to Betsy’s stall.

“Oh Helen Dear, we were just dreaming of spring.”- mooed Betsy.

“Can’t come too soon for me, my Sweets. I just hope we are all here to enjoy it.” Helen sounded serious.

“What?”- cried Lilloweth above the country twang. “What are you talking about?”

“Well cow kids,”- Helen’s tone sounded more severe. “There’s always the chance that one of us girls might find our days numbered here at Farmer Franks Happy Hollow Farm.”

“Oh don’t be ridiculous Helen. I don’t want to hear that kind of talk!”-cried Lilloweth.

Helen looked at Lilloweth and said- “Oh Lilly, it’s just a part of life. We have all known the story for years. Remember Flossy and Ursella and Candy and Brownie. When they left in Farmer Frank’s big trailer, did we ever see them come back to the barn?”

“No, we didn’t!”- Betsy gulped.

Lillowth was speechless!

“Why do we need to think about that now? I can’t believe that Farmer Frank would sell us down the road. He likes to have us around too darn much. Why look he even bought Lilly that new radio just last month.” Betsy was starting to get a headache. She thought about laying down on the soft, clean straw.

“Yes Hun, you are right about that- even though that old Radio on the shelf above Lily’s house stall is older than the three of us combined!” Helen sounded smug.

Lilloweth stomped her right hoof hard on the stall floor. “Look Ladies, lets look on the bright side. Betsy’s right. Even I have heard Farmer Frank say in “human speak” many times that he would never get rid of the three of us. He says we are like family. So Helen, let’s not worry about something that may never happen.”

Lilloweth paused, thought for a moment, then continued- “Besides we have too much fun and living yet to do. I for one will not dwell on possibilities. Now look, let’s get a deck of cards and take our minds off this “hogwash”. Betsy, can you make a pitcher of Martinis? Helen have you got some chips and cow dip in that old stall of yours?”

Helen smiled. “Why yes I do. Indeed I do. I’ll be right back. You know Lily, you are right. Let’s live for the moment. We have this wonderful, warm barn. Lots of fresh hay. Clean, cool water and….”

Lilloweth cut in. “Let’s not forget the music on that old radio!”

“and…the radio too, of course. C’mon gals let’s get this impromptu party started, only don’t tell the pigs. You know what party animals they can be!”

Helen marched off to her stall to fetch the food.
Betsy made a pitcher of martinis, then helped Lily set up the card table- all in the warmth of Farmer Frank’s barn.

Finally, they turned up the Philco- just a notch.

ROBBLOG # 220 W E E K E N D Edition

Another opening. Another show.

This time it’s Looking- a Norm Foster comedy. This show has been a big job for all concerned. I think I auditioned way back in late September.
I am told each of the actors have an average of 450 lines of dialogue.
That’s why it felt like so much work.
Geesh!
The results of our months of work are on stage now at the Opera House Studio Theatre. There’s only four of us in the cast- Patti Scott, Jim Dwyer, Phyllis Johnson and me but we pack a punch!

There’s also a large backstage element here. That because set pieces have to be constantly moved on and off stage. A theatre-goer remarked after the show last night that there are so many scene changes!
There are.
The same scenes but they are constantly shuffling.
As an actor, just try to keep all that straight in your head.
I have notes posted in my dressing room wall regarding my costume changes and back stage I have two notes taped to the back of that “window” in my apartment. You’ll have to see the show to understand “the window”.
The notes tell me where I am and what I am about to say as my character “Matt”.
It can get confusing.

Backstage, there’s makeup and costumes from Shimera, Deb and Bev. Props by Susan. Susan even helps move set pieces on stage left. She’s there to help me shove my arms into a shirt during a fast change sequence.
Yow!
Up in the production booth Tom and Claude do the light cues and music and SFX. Downstairs Lisa is on a headset connected to Tom and Claude. She sets the actors in motion.

Then on stage right- where Andy and Matt disappear a few times during “Looking”, there’s more props, set pieces and Krista- who is also connected to Tom and Lisa via headset. She cues our entrance back on stage as well as shoving a beer bottle or two at us and in Andy’s case a couple of drinks for the ladies as well.
It really is a well-oiled machine. We all have to keep on top of it.

For the actors- besides remembering the dialogue, we have to remember what scene we are about to do. The stage crew has to place the right set pieces in the right spot on stage so everything is placed there, waiting for the scene to begin.

An actor friend- who joined us for the opening night celebration at Brewery Bay after the show, was impressed by the large number of stage crew.
We need every one of them too!
We even have a couple of students who are not only deepening their love of theatre but are also fulfilling their 40 hours of community service during their high school years.

So, here we are up and running- finally.
If you want to spend an enjoyable winter evening and have a few laughs some and see us.

“Looking” runs until Sunday February 20th and tickets are available online at the Opera House website, on the phone at 705. 326.8011 or in person at the Box Office at the Opera House.

Hey, we’d love to see you and offer you a night of great theatre!

ROBBLOG # 219

Dress rehearsal time can be stressful.

The show I am currently in is “Looking”- from Mariposa Arts Theatre. It’s a very funny 4 part comedy from the genius of Norm Foster. Norm’s a Canuk boy and he writes brilliantly funny stuff set in plain, everyday situations. We only have a couple of dress rehearsals to go and then- yikes, it’s opening night!

Looking is a winner for Norm Foster. It was first performed in 2006. It’s about four middle- aged characters- two gals and two guys, looking for love in all the wrong places. Three of the Characters Val (Phyllis Johnson), Andy (Jim Dwyer) and Matt (that’s me) have been married and divorced. All three have kids. Only once character Nina (Patti Scott) has remained single. She’s a cop in the show.
That just might have something to do with it.
Nina Gregorian apparently is only used to putting the criminal element in handcuffs. Maybe she should try it with the men in her life. She might get and keep a man for a lengthy while. Without giving away the plot to this fast-paced comedic romp, Nina does “score”- eventually.
Is it a lifetime relationship?
Foster doesn’t really tell the audience.
He doesn’t jump too far into the future but I think, the audience thinks, she does find love in the “right” place- or bar, at least.

What about Matt- the character she “pairs” up with in Looking? As the actor “playing” that character, I believe she probably ends up with him- for a good while at least. Matt’s quite taken with Nina being a cop you see. He likes the “Cop” terminology like “mirandize me”.
Matt is possibly “looking” to settle down again. That may not work in the long term since Nina would be moving into a ready-made family with kids- albeit both kids are in University.

On the other hand, poor old flustered Andy can’t seem to win in either love or business. He meets Val. They don’t quite hear violins when they meet but the music does start to play towards the end of the story. She’s a nurse. An OR nurse. He sells or rents plastic containers. I am sure by the end of the play, the audience is quite satisfied with what the future holds for both of them.

Looking has been a difficult play to do. Comedic dialogue in this Norm Foster comedy has a nasty habit of repeating in either different or identical situations. It’s been a bit of a nightmare to memorize and now perform. We all have a handle on it now. So don't worry.
Thank goodness.
Opens night lurks on the horizon!

As an actor, one can only be as good as those surrounding him allow him to be, while honing his craft. There is always so much more to mounting a show than what the audience sees down on the stage at the Studio Theatre at the Orillia Opera House.

It takes a committed, focused Director like Dave Graham. I last did Out of Sight, Out of Murder with Dave two seasons ago. The show was a huge success and for that reason alone, I am back to work under Dave’s directorship.

The Stage Manager is Tom Ruechel who knows the ropes and keeps cast and crew both in line and in place. He’s ably assisted by Lisa McKinzey whom- it seems, has the middle initial “O”- for organized.

Then there’s hair and makeup from Shimera Dione. She is the absolute best! Look what she did for me (The Garage Door Players) with A Chatty HANKmuss. Shimera’s wigs and makeup made that Holiday show. There would have been no Dame Clare without the professionalism and know-how that Shimera brings to a production.

Susan Canfield and crew prepare the props and make sure the “correct” liquid is in the beer bottles and glasses at the bar The Private Dick, featured in this comedy.

Bev Totten both finds and gives the final okay to costumes. She has a fine eye and never offers a snap decision.

Max Durnford has the unforgiving task of building a set that looks “real” as well as being functional for the actors.

Phil Hull as Producer, gets the word out about the show as well as lending his support and finding a competent backstage crew to be there- backstage, for the run of the show.

All these people and departments must come together in one focused team effort to make this show a winner.
I think it will be.
Now, it’s your opportunity to be the judge- and the critic.

“Looking” presented by Mariposa Arts Theatre, opens Thursday February 10 at the Studio Theatre at the Orillia Opera House where their main concern is “safety” for one and all.
Actually, it’s not just a concern.
It’s a lifestyle.
A mantra.
A way of life.
A day to day albatross that has been flung around their collective necks and weighted down with chains and links heavier than Marley’s ever were!
It’s something they live and breathe daily.
A case for which there is no argument if one wanders from the set course.
Well, you get the idea.
So be assured, your visit to the Studio Theatre during the run of "Looking" will not only be a humorous one- but a safe one.

Get your tickets before this show is sold out!
Ahhhh. They always say that- don’t they!
It’s supposed to get lazy bums- such as you, into the seats at the little Studio Theatre inside the O.H. right at Mississaga Street West and West Street North, in downtown Orillia.
The Box Office number is 705.326.8011
Tickets are available online too. Just Google Orillia Opera House.

On with the show!

ROBBLOG # 218 W E E K E N D Edition

Every once in a while I Google “Swisssh or Swisssh Radio” just to see where it falls in respect to search results.


Usually it’s the first ten results of a search. However, there is a new Internet Radio station in England that uses the same name.
Different spelling.
It’s Swish.

I am sure they have a much larger listening audience, since the Brits are miles ahead of us Canuks when it comes to listening to Internet Radio Stations. Remember, this is the same country that sent ships out to sea to “play” radio in the 1960’s when there was just the BBC, which only allotted an hour or two per week to Pop hits.
Radio Caroline was born.
That country is on the cutting edge- even though they can’t make hot toast and coffee refills in restaurants are not complimentary!

This upstart Brit station decided to use the name as well. I don’t know where it came from but it is appearing on searches for Swisssh even though the spelling is completely different.
Why do I mention this?
You can help me keep Swisssh Radio on the top for searches form Swisssh,simply by plopping Swisssh or Swisssh Radio into the Google search bar and hit “enter”. When you see a “Swisssh” result, just click on it to go to the website. That will keep Swisssh Radio at the top of the search.

Thanking you in advance for the Google thing.


That's me relaxing in Muskoka with Kiki


I also do random searches of my name- Rob Reid. I am nowhere near the top of the list of Google results that appear on my computer screen. There are many that bear the same name and consistently beat me to the top- at least as far as I can see, no one is saying anything "bad" about me.
Who are these imposters you may well ask.
Here are a few of them and what they are “famous” for.
Wat up wit dat?

Rob Reid- born in Toronto, Ontario on January 22, 1955, is a Victoria, British Columbia athlete, community activist and entrepreneur.


Rob Reid Ministries, a non-profit organization committed to promoting the liberating message of Jesus of Nazareth. Apparently, he has personally experienced the freeing power of the Gospel of Jesus.

Rob Reid, Founder of Frontrunners and recent Mayor candidate (2009) for Mayor of Victoria B.C.


Rob Reid was appointed Executive Vice President & Chief Operating Officer in May 2005 for Air Canada.


Rob Reid- the author- New Books in the Works.

Rob Reid (lawyer) practices in the areas of labour and employment.


Rob Reid, Senior Revenue Analyst at CBC.


Rob Reid is a singer/songwriter based out of Chicago.

Rob Reid, founder and chairman of Listen.com


Rob Reid, co-founded Mainspring Productions, a commercial, documentary and narrative-based film company, 2008.


Rob Reid: An assistant Scientist


Rob Reid Memorial site at www.rob-reid.com

So there you have it. A few of the “imposters” who have swiped my name and are actively seeking their own fortune and fame! I also did a search for “pics of Rob Reid”. My own “mug” actually came up a few times. That was surprizing!

Now it’s your turn. Be brave.
Type in your own name and see -
“wat up wit dat!”

ROBBLOG # 217

Dear Readers:

I hate when a writer starts a piece with "Dear Readers" but I just have....Haven't I.

Let me explain. Every week Steve Caston (A Chatty HANKmuss)
copies me in on Something he calls the Wednesday Lift. This past Wednesday he sent a small film- with a score he wrote, about a small troll-like creature that was sailing and dancing -among other things.
Suddenly, the following story came to mind. No, it's not the same troll as in Steve's film.
Anyway, here's my story.

The day dawned bright, clear, sunny and warm.

Dorik, a small, gentle little creature with a chartreuse hank of hair shooting up from the centre of the top of his head, rolled over and gazed at the tiny gold-coloured clock on his side table.
It was 6:23.
“Goodness!”- he chimed, “I’ve slept to 6:23? That is amazing. But how rested I feel.”
Dorik always rose precisely at 6:19, so sleeping in to this “late” hour filled him with amazement. However, having a short attention span, he moved on to the next order of business on this fine summer morning-
Coffee.

He clamoured out of bed and headed down to the kitchen of his tiny, perfect cottage- which sat next to a big oak, alongside the babbling brook- and plugged in the coffee maker.

“What shall I have this morning?”- he thought out loud stroking his huge tuft of hair.
“I know!”- he yelled excitedly- “I’ll have “mossy bark”. Yes, “mossy bark” is my coffee flavour of choice. He plopped a couple of heaping tablespoons of “mossy bark” into the filter cartridge of his coffee maker, filled the reservoir with water and pushed the red “on” button. In seconds the aroma of fresh coffee permeated the kitchen.
It was so good to wake up and be alive for another day.
He was absolutely beaming!

Pushing open the door that led from the kitchen to his garden, he took in the fresh, early morning air, scratching himself in the most private of places as he gazed out upon his garden and open fields beyond.
The coffee finished dripping. He paused his daydream-mode for a second while he stepped back in to the tiny, perfect kitchen and filled a mug with the steamy, hot liquid.
He returned to the outdoors, mug in hand.

Reclining on his favourite turquoise-blue lawn chair, he drank it all in. He couldn’t help but smile-
“Was this not just the most perfect of days in a most perfect world?”
An ivory-white butterfly flitted among the flowers in his perennial garden. It stopped for brief moments on the blossoms of his Jackman Clemantis.
“How pretty. How full of nature my garden is…”
How many times had he thought that very thought?
Many times, he was certain.

The sun’s rays lit upon his face. He smiled, feeling comforted by the sun’s warmth.
Suddenly, in the open field on the other side of the babbling brook, he could see a huge baboon- driving a front end loader with its blade fully engaged in the “down” position, flying across the field towards his little cottage, beyond the row of hollyhocks at the south end of his garden. The contraption travelled at break-neck speed, ripping up grass and trees- even the row of hollyhocks, as it crossed the babbling brook it lept skyward coming to rest right on top of the turquoise-blue lounger where Dorik the troll lay reclined on this sunny morning with his cup of “mossy bark” coffee.

Now a final word from the author…

"Pardon me?"- you say.
"What’s that?"- I say.
~mumble, mumble`
"Oh, I hear you."- I say. "I hear you asking ever so politely-
“So, what happened to Dorik the Troll?”- you say.
Well, poor, sweet, adorable, well-rested Dorik was squashed flatter than a pancake on the breakfast menu at the Golden Griddle.


On another much happier note-
Didn’t that “mossy bark” coffee sound delicious?

ROBBLOG # 216

Oh My God….

By the time you read this you could be buried under tons-
literally tons and tons of snow.

SnowZilla- some are calling it.

Armageddon of the winter world.

Forign news channels and local stations in places like Bumnectedy, Connecticut have been broadcasting warnings in advance of what is being billed as the most “hugest snowstorm”- ever! This could be the end of “normal”, for weeks to come.

Why even here in our own “Homeland” media is brewing a tempest in a storm cup. Run for your lives they are telling us. Work from home. Don’t go out. Hide under the bed. Buy salt and sand and shovels- even if you don’t need to. Flee to the tropics.

Good God, it was weather such as this that swept through the Yorkshire Dales in England back in November. Some people were buried at their local pubs for 6 or 7 days until a backhoe could get to them.
But they survived. The British Bulldog made it. They weathered the storm. It eventually melted.
Some of it.

Take heed from this story and learn from the mistakes of others. Don’t go to Metro or Foodland. You might get stuck in there for the next week.
What would you eat?

What if you missed Little Mosque on the Prairie while you were snowbound at your local groceteria?
OK.
People.
Settle.
So, a storm is coming. It’ll lay down maybe 40 or 50 centimetres of snow in places like Hamilton.
Chicago got 60! That wonderful town.

So that’s it. The warnings are out. The Environment Canada website has been flashing Winter Storm Watch. In bright yellow for hours now.

Just be aware that this might be it.
Yes indeedy do.
The end of the world.
The final battle between good and….and…and…

SNOW!

Deal with it!