ROBBLOG #317 W E E K E N D Edition

Boy it’s been a busy week for Swisssh Radio. (www.swisssh.ca) 

I decided back in August I would produce- as well as receive from other stations, some new shows for airing at various times throughout the week. I have done that but now two “live” shows have hit the Swisssh Radio airwaves at www.swisssh.ca. too! 

The “live” shows include- “The Chuck Show” with Charles E. McLachlan, Tuesday at 9PM (ET). I am sort of the co-host/producer.  Chuck and I chat and play music and chat some more. Charles is good at “gabbing” and he certainly has some “different” subjects for us to talk about.

I am constantly saying- “Where do you find this stuff?”

It makes for a two hours of entertaining Radio! 

The other “live” show is with my good friend and radio person- Heather Thompson. It’s called The Morning Show at Night.

Why?

Well, I used to host the morning show with Heather occasionally on EZ Rock, LITE FM and Jack FM. We always had fun- except for the part about getting up so freakin’ early in the morning. Doing a new “morning” show at night is a novel way of bypassing the early morning getup call. Of course- that’s when most morning radio shows are heard.

We are just different that’s all. Heather does a newscast at the half way point.

All Good News.

Light stuff.

Our first show on Thursday got a lot of e-mails and texts. 

Other shows include “Jeff and Sue In Our Cups…Again”. Years ago these two were on the Classical Music Station out of Coburg- before Moses came to the “promised land”- a few years after the station had moved to Toronto. They have a variety of topics. One for each segment. It’s worth a listen Sunday Mornings at 11am (ET) with coffee in hand. Their show is repeated- the norm on Net Radio, Tuesday’s at 8pm.

One other newbie is Johnny Maraca’s Rock and Roll Riot- a show that up until a couple of weeks ago aired on terrestrial radio.

They bumped Johnny!

Swisssh Radio picked him up.

The show is a fantastic mixture of upbeat music and background on the tunes he plays.

You know- rock-a-billy and early stuff before Rock and Roll was called Rock and Roll. Johnny does a great job and we are fortunate to have him on Swisssh Radio! 

Of course my good friend Don Andrews keeps the “live” programming going Monday through Wednesday nights from 11 pm until 1am (ET) with his ”Studio B After Dark”. It’s a great way to wind down after a busy, stressful day. So, take a book and Studio B to bed with you. You’ll be sure to have “Sweet Dreams”. 

All the show details and more are on the Swisssh Radio Website at www.swisssh.ca

Listen to Swisssh Radio though our website. 

Go to your Windows Media Player. Look for the Internet Radio Tab along the top right of the Player and search Swisssh Radio. 

On iTunes we are under radio and Oldies. 

www.tunein.com has a great app for listening to Swisssh Radio and we are also on their website. Just search for us. 

www.reciva.com also hosts the Swisssh Streams. If you have any questions about “How to listen” just e-mail us at Swisssh@rogers.com. 

Thanks for listening and if you never have- give us a listen. 

You’ll be pleasantly surprized!

ROBBLOG #316

Another friend has passed from Cancer. 

James Taylor Goodhand passed from this earthly existence on August 28^th.

I first knew Captain Jim Goodhand in his Wardair pilot days when I worked for Wardair as well out of Pearson International in Mississauga.

He was a good guy.

He flew the big 747 and was a training Captain for other pilots wanting to do the same.

Wardair made Jim Director of Flight Standards. 

Captain Jim retired in 1998 with Canadian Airlines but was hired as a Simulator Instructor with Royal Airlines- now defunct, finally working for Air Canada. For 30 years Jim enjoyed his life with Barbie. 

Barb was a Wardair Flight Attendant and eventually made the move- along with the rest of us, to Canadian Airlines when CAIL bought Wardair.

Barbie’s always funny, engaging and is always in a good mood.

She referred to Jim as “The Big Guy”.

Rightly so.

He was indeed a Big Man with a Big Heart. 

I didn’t make Jim’s Memorial service but Tom was there after his flight landed from London England last Friday. He brought me the programme from the memorial service.

My heart was especially armed by the poem Barbie had placed on the back cover.

As a nod to ‘The Big Guy” I have re-printed it for you below. 

Safe Flight Captain Goodhand!

We’ll see you soon. 

The Next Place 

I won’t know where I’m going and I won’t know where I’ve been

As I tumble through the always and look back toward the when.

I’ll glide beyond the rainbow.

I’ll drift about the sky.

I’ll fly into the wonder,

Without ever wondering why. 

I won’t remember getting there; somehow I’ll just arrive-

But I’ll know that I belong there and feel much more alive than I have ever felt before.

 I will travel empty-handed.

There is a not a single thing I have collected in my life that I would ever want to bring-except… 

The love of those who loved me and the warmth of those who cared-

The happiness and memories and magic that we shared. 

I will cherish all the friendships I was fortunate to find,

All the Love and all the laughter in the place I leave behind. 

All those good things go with me.

They will make my spirit glow-

And that light will shine forever in the next place that I go.

ROBBLOG # 315

Cripes!

 $7.75 for a sausage on a bun!

$5.19 for a regular serving of French Fries

Water $3.59

$7.75 for a foot long hot dog

Cheeseburger, fries and a drink- $14.69

Parking $12.00

Then, there’s the admission to pay.  

You see, we made a pilgrimage to Canada’s Wonderland on the weekend. We were actually supposed to be there two weekends ago when it was “Gay Day” all in aid of PFLAG- Parents and Friends for Gays and Lesbians.

We got stuck in traffic on Hwy 11 and 400. It took two hours just to get to Cookstown. When we pulled off at the Cookstown Outlet Mall, the skies looked threatening. We had already driven through a huge downpour at Barrie, so we had a burger at Harvey’s and turned around and headed for home. This past weekend’s drive was much faster. A small slowdown from Innisfil to just past Hwy 89, then it was full speed ahead. 

We had bought tickets online and they were good until October 31^st. This past weekend featured perfect summer weather, so we made an afternoon of it. As you can see from above, it’s not a cheap visit. We did have a regular tub of fries at $5.19 and a Dairy Queen cone $3.89- about the same as the Dairy Queen in town. We had taken water through the gates with us. I thought the security guards would take the water from us. They checked our “murses” but said nothing about the water I held in my hand. That was good. We would have spent an additional 4 bucks on water too. 

The security checkpoint resembled security at the airport.

What were they looking for?

A Bologna sandwich or two?

Canada’s Wonderland rules still frown on food being take in and consumed on the immaculate grounds. However, families can exit the park and sit on the grass outside or under a pavilion provided just for that purpose. 

The park is non-smoking too- for the most part. For those needing nicotine fix there are several spots where smokers are actually corralled behind a fence where they can puff to their heart’s delight, fowling the sunshine-filled air. The second hand smoke still drifts onto the walkways as you pass by but its way better than having a smoker puffing in your face as they walk just in front of you. 

The rides were all testaments to the marvels of technology and although we didn’t ride any, we did thrill at the absolute “hugeness” of most of them. Actually, I did take in one ride- The Coca-Cola Oasis. One steps beneath a huge red and white awning where clouds of cool mist and droplets of H20 fall from the structures top and sides right onto your hair, face and extremities! It was exhilarating to say the least- and not the least bit scary! 

The park was choc-a-block full of people.

As we walked from one section of the park to another, we began to think it was the “unofficial” Big Shoulders and Big Arms Day. Good Lord, there were dozens of men with some of the broadest, brawniest shoulders we had ever seen. One after another they passed by. Some had removed their shirts after being on rides that soaked their clothing right through to their tanned, hirsute flesh. 

 



There were “shoulders for days”, huge bicep muscles and tight pectorals protruding through tight tee shirts.

Maybe it was just for us?

It certainly was as much a marvel to behold as the technology of the rides!

Yes.

I am a bit of a tramp but remember my husband was just as busy pointing the men out to me as I was to him. It was a pleasant game to play on a hot, sunny afternoon. 

We covered the park from one end to the other with the exception of “Kiddie Land”. One look there and we said- no thanks!

It was walk-to-wall kids.

Who would have guessed? 

Even though it was a brilliantly sunny and hot afternoon- 27 degrees, the water park- much to our chagrin, was closed for the season. We couldn’t even sit beneath a shady tree for an hour or two and indulge in the pleasurable pastime of “ogling” the guys in black Speedos swishing down huge water slides into tepid pools of turquoise blue water. 

There were only one or two “live” shows- although we didn’t take one in. There wasn’t even a single “cast member”- as the employees are referred to, strolling around the park- in or out of costume, singing or juggling or tap dancing. No tall, lithe divers with perfectly tanned, muscular bodies either, flailing themselves from atop Wonder Mountain into the churning water below. That attraction had ended on Labour Day. 

Hmmm…

Maybe that’s why there were all those broad shoulders, big arms and chests populating the landscape instead.

Just for us!

I mean, we had to have something pretty to look at!

It worked out very well actually. 

Quite well indeed!

ROBBLOG # 314 W E E K E N D Edition

So the old Geneva Theatre has had their neon sign refurbished.

Yeah! 

The sign- from the 1930’s, has been a part of the Downtown Orillia landscape for decades. It’s just that the colourful neon bars haven’t worked in more than twenty years! When the Geneva was an art deco film house- where as a kid I saw so many classic films, it gave West Street South a “big city” feels. On hot summer nights the sign seemed brighter.

More imposing and important. Comforting and special because beneath that huge sign all the big film starts- and some not so big, from around the world would be inside.

Up there.

On a true silver screen. 

Back a few years ago, great damage was done to the Geneva Theatre. The ceiling was lowered and apartments now inhabit the upper floor. I am surprized as hell they didn’t rip it down long ago like the old library. Not that monstrous white addition. I mean the original old Carnegie library that was hidden underneath. Now we have that big piece of glass and steel crap designed by some hoity-toity architectural firm who didn’t have a whore’s chance in heaven of capturing the essence of the Downtown, let alone Orillia’s cultural and heritage past. Enough on the library- for now. 

I was last inside the Geneva a few years back for the Festival of Trees.

It was sad.

So was the festival of trees as I remember. 

The small stage where the screen once hung was still there last time I was inside. However the soaring ceilings were no longer visible. In the place of space, just a fake, low ceiling covered in ugly, white ceiling tiles. I hope those doing the reno will make those tiles disappear.

I had this idea that the theatre could be used both as a “live” theatre or a film theatre, showing classic films.

That’s me.

I always have the big ideas but no big bank account to follow through. Imagine seeing classic films on a big screen the way they were meant to be seen. A cup of Columbian coffee- or fancy coffee if you so desire. Maybe a muffin or a decadent chocolate desert, while you watch the movie.

Then, a few evenings later, envision a small stage with tables on the floor set for dinner patrons who would be there to dine and then watch the show. The tables and chairs would be scattered about the room. The theatre seats would magically disappear behind the walls.

Snap!

Wake up Rob! 

Oh my Gawd!

Such a dream!

A nightmare really because bingo still makes it home in the former movie palace. Maybe the renovation will be so well done  the company will offer the space for special events. I wonder if there’s a kitchen? 

So, the next time you drive down West Street South in Orillia past the Geneva, try to look up and take a gander at the Geneva sign.

Do it safely too.

I believe it gets “lit up” on Tuesday, September 13^th. 

It’s worth an evening stroll, south to West Street

ROBBLOG #313

Const. Gerry Dwyer of the Orillia OPP says :

“Two customers (aged 53 and 26) entered the Severn Bridge hunting supply store (Ellwood Epps) at 10 a.m. Wednesday morning with a long gun. The 53-year-old placed the firearm on the counter and it discharged, striking the 26-year-old in the stomach and a 66-year-old employee in both arms."

God Bless those Conservatives who love their guns!

Once upon a time, a Conservative-I’m guessing here, pointed out the basic differences between Liberals and Tories by sending out a little quiz. The quiz was supposed to open eyes- Liberal eyes, to the utter ridiculousness of being something other than a Con. The quiz stated, in part:

“If a Conservative doesn't like guns, he doesn't buy one.
If a Liberal doesn't like guns, he wants all guns outlawed.” Which are you?

So, that’s how it goes? However, even if a Tory doesn’t like a gun and doesn’t own one, a Tory still believes everyone should be able to covet one.

Isn’t that correct?

Of course, the sender neglected to mention that Cons still want the Gun Registry scrapped. Yes sir, every gal and guy- I mean Canadian gun lover, who is able to vote should also likewise be able to tote around a gun in the back of their pickup or Cadillac. It seems fair. Equality for one and all.

Shit! That sounds pretty Liberal- up to a point, if you ask me. The “everyone” part, I mean.

It takes big gonads to carry around a gun but you never know when you’ll need to blast someone’s head off for cutting you off at a corner or running a red light or shoving their shopping cart into your Caddy at Wal*Mart. Happens from time to time in the “You ‘s’ of Eh, I understand.

A different scenario: There might even come a time when you may need to put your faithful black lab to sleep. What better and kinder way that to drag the old girl to the basement, haul out your long gun and shoot the bitch right between the eyes?That “person” has a Garfield Dunlop- Ontario PC sign, on their lawn today.Hmmm. Drives a truck too.

‘Course you have to protect yourself and your family, especially if you find yourself passing through A questionable area or neighbourhood . Good Gawd, someone might try to steal your stuff as you drivealong the street. Keeping a gun handy under the front seat? Why it should be as natural as spreading peanut butter on toast.

So, not in the once upon a time world but the real world, another human gets shot for no reason- except there was a gun present. Listen, I understand while the police were investigating the shooting, customers could be heard banging and cocking out back of the store in the shooting range.

Funny, eh?

As Dame Clare Voyant has been known to say:

You just got to laugh sometimes- Don't you?

I mean- don't you.

ROBBLOG #312

“Hurry, Hurry Lilloweth! Farmer Frank’s wife is down near the old apple tree right now!” Betsy was beside herself with excitement.

“I can taste those Mac apples already.”

As the girls pranced through the open gate at the bottom of the field- just a hundred metres or so from their cozy barn and housestalls, Lilloweth finally found an extra breath to speak-

“Betsy Dear. What’s the rush. It’s just an apple and it’s still so early in the day!”

“Oh Lilloweth. It’s more than that. The apples that Farmer Frank’s wife is collecting are the first, snappy Macs of the season. They’re always the best!”

“...and she’ll share them- with us?”

“Yes- of course. She always does silly!” 

As the bovines made their way along the cedar rail fence, they could see Helen- who lived in a housestall near the big barn door, standing near the old oak, chewing on some luscious, green grass. She sported a beautiful sunhat decorated gaily with black-eyed susans, all tied together with yellow and burgundy ribbons.

“Hi Helen!” Betsy called out. “What a day! Love your hat! Do you know where we’re headed?” 

Helen looked up from her snack and saw the girls rushing towards her.

“Haven’t got a clue Dear. Is there a sale at the General Store?”

Betsy laughed and then snorted as she approached Helen’s side.

“Oh no. Better than that!”

Helen stopped chewing.

“Better than a sale at the General Store? This I got to hear. I’m all ears!!” 

Lilloweth was just a few steps behind. As she tried to catch her breath again she spoke- “Oh much better Helen. You see, Farmer Frank’s wife- Daisy, is down at the bottom of the field collecting some fresh Macintosh Apples. Helen here is expecting the human to share.” 

Helen looked to Betsy.

“Is that it Hun? That’s the excitement? Whatever would you do with Macintosh Apples?” 

“Oh, I’d make apple spice muffins. An applesauce cake. Applesauce even! The sky’s the limit!” Betsy smiled excitedly from ear to ear. 

“My, My.” Helen looked at Lilloweth, shrugged and turned to Betsy, “Who knew an apple could send you into such a tizzy Dear?” 

“I know! Why last year I made an apple torte. You must remember. I brought it to your yard party last September. I had all that whipped cream on top? Remember girls?” 

There was an uncomfortable silence. 

Finally, Lilloweth broke the quiet.

“Is that what that was? You made that? You must admit Helen, that was a very good cake. A very, very good cake.” 

"It wasn’t a cake!”- Betsy replied, “It was a torte.” 

Helen playfully bumped up against Betsy’s side- “Of course it was Dear…and a delicious cake- I mean torte it was, as I remember. Yes! Whipped Cream and all. How could I have possibly have forgotten your torte?”

She nodded to Lilloweth.

Lilloweth cracked a smile- “Maybe it was all that fruit compote you were drinking Helen Hun. That was an absolute  tip-top party as I recall. A real hoot!” 

“Well, I am glad you two haven’t lost your memories completely or anything. So, do you want to go down to the Mac trees with me and see if Farmer Frank’s wife will part with a few of those delicious, red beauties?” 

“Dear Betsy, if it will make you happy, I would be pleased to attend with you.”

“Oh me too, Hun.”- says Lilloweth. “We’re practically there now. Shall we amble on?” 

“Oh Lets!”- Betsy cried. 

So the girls all strolled down to where Farmer Frank’s wife was collecting the mac apples. She gladly parted with several bags of the fresh beauties which the gals happily lugged all the way back to Farmer Frank’s barn. 

Later that day the aroma of baking apples filled the barn’s interior. 

Round about tea time, Betsy called both Lilloweth- who lived in the housestall next door and Helen who lived in a housestall near the barn door, to her cozy, homey housestall for tea and apple muffins.

ROBBLOG #311 W E E K E N D Edition

Norma gobbled up the deep fried “ball of butter”. 

It took a moment but as she chewed she began to gag.

“I told you so!” You see, Henry considered himself a bit of an expert when it comes

to food. He shook his head and laughed out loud. He laughed so loud, his glasses with the gob of white tape on the right earpiece practically fell from his ears. 

“Smnut..ump.. U” was all Norma could manage. She spit out the ball. She had chosen a chocolate dipped ball covered in little sugar sprinkles. 

“You should have stayed with what you know. The Tiny Tom’s mini-donuts are always a quality product Norma.” Henry was preaching- again. “You know that Norma”. 

She could speak clearly now. “Shut the hell up Henry. You always have to be right. What about getting out there in the world and going for the gusto just once! You should learn from me, not make fun of me!” 

Still laughing Henry replies- “You mean those disgusting little balls of butter, deep fried in litres of fat? That’s going for the gusto? No thanks Norma! C’mon, I’ll get you a bag of mini donuts.” 

“No thank you Henry.”- said Norma  quite tersely, “I don’t need to have a bag of donuts- at least not right now.” 

“Awww. Tummy not feeling so good?”- Henry chided her. 

“Henry, how be we ride the Crazy Mouse and I push you out of your seat when we get to the very top!”  Norma was spitting bricks. 

“Now look, Norma, we’re at the Ex to have fun, not argue and do damage to one another. I’m sorry for laughing at you. Can we please just friggin’ back up and start to have some fun?” 

“Sometimes Henry you are so crass”. Norma spun on her heels and started walking away from the Deep Fried Butter concession stand. 

“Look, I’ll buy you a nice lunch at the Food Building. How about a German Sausage and a nice cup of hot java or maybe a freshly-squeezed lemonade. What about a Krispy Crème Donut with a beef pattie wedged in between!” he laughed. “Now that’s fine dining!” 

Norma stopped and turned to face Henry.

“Shut the hell up Henry!”

She paused briefly.

“No, you just buy me a nice lunch and I’ll find us a nice table outside- in the shade.” 

“Deal”- Henry says, as they walk towards the Food Building at the west end of the Exhibition Grounds. “Norma, lets take a short cut through the Horse Palace.” 

“It’s not a short cut. It’s dark and stinks of cows and poop.” 

“Horses”- Henry corrects her. 

“What?” 

“Horses, Norma. The Cows are at The Farm exhibit at the far end of the EX!. 

“Horses, then. Whatever!  How can a building full of cattle be considered farm fun? Remember the good old days when building like The Better Living Centre had furniture and the Kitten Sweater exhibit? Now if it isn’t poop it’s a Casino!” 

“What happened to living that life with gusto?”- chortled Henry.

“Cow shit is not Gusto. It’s just shit!” Norma was getting a little pissed off at Henry- again. 

“Why Norma, such crude language- from a lady. I think you’re just being nostalgic for what the Ex was years ago. It’s a different fair today Norma.” 

“Yes I know- but it is such a shame that lovely exhibits have taken a back seat to hogs and bovines.” 

They turned right and climbed the steps leading into the Horse Palace and the centre ring. One inside, they stood for a few moments and watched a bevy of young girls leading their miniature horses through their paces in the show ring.  Norma stopped one of the gals outside the ring and said-

“Oh your ponies are so cute. Do they sleep in your bedroom with you?”

The young lady pushed her glasses up her nose a bit to get a more in focus look at the person who asked such a silly question. 

“No Ma’am”- says the small blonde-haired girl with two pony tails hanging below her red straw cowboy hat, “Nellie here doesn’t sleep in my bedroom nor in the house at all. She has a nice, little apartment in the barn and Nellie is a “miniature horse”-

Not a pony!” 

The girl walked on.

“Henry did you hear that brass of that little witch. I just asked a simple question and…” 

Henry cuts her off- “Norma, you asked a silly freeking question. A question she probably hears 10 times a day. Why would the freekin’ horse sleep with her. I am sure she has a nice little one bedroom apartment in the barn- like she said, with a big screen TV and a nice kitchenette.” 

“Oh I hope so Henry. I really hope so.”

“Norma! Wake up! That little girl was just having you on. The horse would sleep in a stall for Pete’s sake- not a private apartment!” 

Norma became silent.

They walked away from the ring, Henry in the lead as they headed for the exit on their left past several rows of horse stalls. Norma wasn’t prepared to let it go! At least not yet! 

“Still Henry, I think that little girl was a regular bitch to me.”

As she spoke her right food sunk right into the biggest patch of horse shit imaginable. 

“Jeremy Cripes!” she yelled. “Look what happened!!”

Henry turns. “Looks like you stepped in a pile of shit, Norma.”

Henry stifled a smile. 

“A big pile of shit! You, you- man you!” 

Henry took her by the arm and pulled her from the pile of horse pucky.

“It’s not that bad Norma. Look it’s only to the top of your running shoe. You socks haven’t been touched.” 

“My brown socks, Henry”- she asked. 

“Yes”- he says wondering why she asked. 

“I am not wearing any socks Henry! That’s Horse shit halfway up my leg!”

She was screaming now. Henry looked ahead of him and saw a water hose.

“Nevermind, Sweetheart. Come over here and I’ll hose you down. Just like a miniature pony!” 

“That’s not funny!” Norma was serious. 

“Look, you have a pair of sandals in your bag there- right?” He pointed to the Zehr’s bag handing from her left arm. “We’ll hose your runners down and they can dry in the sun while we eat.” 

“ Ok. Fine.”

“Fine.”- repeated Henry.  

Soon, Norma stood in the shower area, where horses- not “Normas”, where bathed before they were taken to the show ring. A few passerby’s giggled. A small boy pointed and cried out to his parents- “Mommy. Daddy. Look at the funny horsey!”

Norma would have gladly rung his little pre-kindergarten neck- with a smile on her face, if she could have gotten away with it. 

“Better now?”-Henry asked.

“Yes. I suppose.”

“Your runners will be dry in no time.” 

They walked out the west entrance of the Horse Palace. The Food Building was just across the boulevard.

“Norma, you go find a table with a patch of sun to dry your shoes and I’ll be back with the lunch.” Henry ran across to the entrance of the Food Building, glad for the break away from Norma’s negativity. 

In a few minutes Henry returned with lunch. Norma had found a table near the stage where buskers were entertaining a crowd. After enjoying part of a German Sausage she slid off the seat of the picnic table to check her runners, drying in the hot August sun.

“How are they”- asked Henry as Norma bent over and ran her fingers along the inside of the white runners..

“Pretty good actually. They are drying quickly.”

“Norma?”

“Yes?”- she answered still bent at the waist, “what’s that on your shorts there?”

“Where?”

“All over your butt.”-he was pointing now.

“I dunno… She wiped an index finger across her shorts and raised it to her nose.”

Suddenly, Norma strung a stretch of expletives together at such volume vocally, that the ticket booth attendants at the BMO field across the way could hear! 

“It’s Pigeon Shit!”

Then, Norma took a hissy fit, right there on the CNE grounds with thousands of people watching. She wailed with unapologetic  gusto! 

Meanwhile, Henry dropped his face to the picnic table and laughed such a hardy, yet silent laugh, that his entire body simply shook and shimmied.

He had no regard for the consequences of his actions but in that moment he knew one thing for certain- he still loved going to the Canadian National Exhibition- especially with Norma.