ROBBLOG #555

In much the same way that Rob Ford detached himself from the Toronto Mayoralty race or the way Quebec wants to detach itself from the rest of Canada or even the example Scotland set to the world as half of the Scots tried to detach themselves from England...my retina has decided to attempt to detach itself from my pupil.

Just another of the wonderful things that can happen to one as one gets older.

 

%$#$#

 

The medical name is Posterior Vitreous Detachment.

Google it.

 

It started with some flashes of light in my peripheral vision to the left.

My left eye felt fuzzy.

Blurred vision.

My eye drops for dry eyes were not helping. It was like I was looking through a cloud.

There was no pain but it was irritating- and inconvenient, looking through this gauze-like whatever it was.

 

So, on Tuesday I had to go to the eye doctor.

My retina in my left eye is detaching.

The jelly-like substance is peeling off the back of the retina.

 

For 6 weeks I have to take it easy.

Rest. No stress. No lifting. No bending over and then getting up quickly.

Less computer time.

It all irritates the condition.

All kinds of neat stuff really.

 

I see what appears like a cloud or cobweb on my left eye.

It’s annoying and worrisome.

Age related I am told.

Happens to 75% of us over 65.

I am not quite there yet but Dr. Hung says it's just one of the features of getting older.

How I love being 63!!

 

The eye guy is hoping it will re-attach. If it completely detaches and I see a black curtain over my eye or more light flashes, I have to get medical help asap. Right now I am waiting until Oct 21st when I have my

next appointment and when I hope he will tell me things are OK.

The worst scenario?

 

The retina detaches and surgery becomes the next step.

 

I hear Tom yelling- GET OFF THAT COMPUTER!

Better run.

 

Take care of your eyes, eh?

 

 

ROBBLOG #554

One Sunny September Afternoon on Bleeker Street- about 117pm.

Jane: Fu#k!

~pause~

Jane: Fu#k!

~pause~

Jane: F#ck again!

~Blanche comes wheeling in~

Blanche: Jane Dear, whatever is the matter? I'm beating the batter for my chocolate chip cookies and I hear you screaming obscenities...

Jane: I wasn't Fu#king creaming obscenities Blanche!

Blanche: Well that's what it sounded like to me.

Jane: Well Blanche ~puff, drag puff~ I was just watching the leaves fall from my favourite Maple Tree in the front yard.

Blanche: Now Jane Dear, that's nothing to get upset about. Leaves fall every autumn. It's September now, we have to expect it.

Jane: ~puff, puff~ Oh I know Blanche. It's just so Fu#king upsetting. I love that tree ~puff~ and the leaves are so green and lush.

Blanche: Love! Never thought I'd see the day when you were so full of something as human as love!

Jane: Oh Hardy-Fu#king Har! ~puff, drag, exhale~ Have I ever told you how much Fu#king fun it is living in this house with you?

Blanche: ~laughing~ many times!

Jane: Well I like that ~puff, drag, puff~ I'm being all nature-like and sentimental and you rip into me for it.

~pause~

Blanche: Oh heck. Look, I'm sorry Jane. ~pause~ I have an idea. Why don' t you come into the kitchen with me and help me with the chocolate chip cookies? It'll take your mind off the pretty tree.

Jane: F#ck You Blanche. Who do I look like- Suzie Homemaker. ~drag, puff, puff~

Blanche: Now there's the Jane I love!

~she wheels back into the kitchen~

ROBBLOG #553

I've been noticing We are losing our identity as a country. It's the little things.

Radio stations calling themselves Kool and KICX and KX Country. US stations west of the Mississippi have call letters beginning with “K”. East of the river its “W”.

 

Cheque- as in writing one, spelled check. Guest check or to check off items on a list is check.

Cheque is something you get from your bank.

 

Colour is not color.

Programme is not program.

Labour Day is not Labor Day.

Neighbourhood is not neighborhood.

Theatre is not theater.

 

Not a through street is not "dead end". Duh...

 

A chesterfield is not a sofa or couch nor is pop a soda.

 

Thanksgiving is NOT about the Pilgrims just giving thanks and eating turkey and the

bounties of the land. 

Black Friday is just Friday. Nothing else- except it’s like Boxing Day.

 

Economy is the seating area behind the blue curtain on a flight- not coach. 

Zero is not Zee-Row. It’s Zeer- Oh.

Temperatures are in Degrees Celcius- not Fahrenheit.

 

Sliced bacon is just that sliced bacon. Canadian Bacon is something we do not have but we do have Peameal Bacon.

 

A washroom is like a bathroom- usually it's for public use but it's not a toilet.

 

We wipe our mouth after eating with a serviette- not a napkin.

 

A toboggan is not a sleigh. A sleigh has runners a toboggan does not.

 

We go outside- not outdoors.

 

I could go on eh, however, I'll leave it where it's at.

ROBBLOG #552

 

This is a repeat/updated blog I wrote several years ago about the EX.

Enjoy it again.

 

R*

 

The Canadian National Exhibition is on. Like the first crocus in the spring announcing summer’s coming, the CNE is our yearly reminder that summer is on the wane. As a kid in the 60’s I started to count the “days of freedom” as the Ex began. It was a happy thought that one day during the run of the Ex I would actually be there- on the Exhibition Grounds. It was a sad thought that in a couple of weeks-or less, I would be on school grounds.

 

The Exhibition meant a lot to me. I loved being there on the shore of massive Lake Ontario. Sparkling blue water to the south. Toronto’s skyline to the north. When the city began to light up at dusk and the traffic flew along the Gardiner Expressway on a warm Exhibition evening, I remember thinking it just doesn’t get any better! I wondered what living in the city would be like. Of course I would find out in later years. I still love Toronto and I still love the CNE- if only for the memories.

 

What memories they are too. I saw Uncle Bobby at the CFTO “Glass” TV Studios that sat along Princess Way in the early 1960’s. That was a big deal to see “live” TV, and an even bigger deal was the year that Colour TV made its country-wide debut.

 

I owe it to the CNE for my Career in Broadcasting. Tagging along with my parents I let them do their thing while I would spend hours watching the antics of the announcers at the radio stations’ “ Live” remote broadcasts. All the big stations were there.

CKEY 590-The Good Guys in the CKEY Circus Wagon.  Toronto’s “Hit” Powerhouse 1050 CHUM. CHUM always had that prime spot right inside the Princess Gates. I watched from a distance being too shy to actually speak to the DJ’s. Remember John Spragge, and Duff Roman (he was on CKEY too!)? There was Jungle Jay Nelson and Brian Skinner. Oh- the Chummingbirds with Bob MacAdorey. They even performed on the stage at the back of CHUM’s CNE Studio. The Chum announcers broadcasting “live” daily from the other side of the glass.

As I watched I knew that this is what I wanted to do and be- a Broadcaster.

I never actually worked for a station that Broadcast from the CNE but I did work for a country radio station- CHOO, that Broadcast from a horse show called “QuarterRama” from the Exhibition Grounds. Close-but no prize.

 

A few years back I did a “fake” TV News bit at the CBC Newsworld Booth in the Better Living Centre. That was fun and I still have a copy of the tape they made for me. It wasn’t broadcast live to the country or anything but when I got home I fully expected my phone to ring. An agent calling, wanting me to replace Peter Mansbridge. It never happened.

 

The Canadian National Exhibition meant climbing the Shell Tower to look

out over the Exhibition Grounds and the lake. It meant drinking glass after glass of Honeydew Orange. It was my father taking us to the horse stall where he slept when the Ex housed the “boys” before they left for War. I cherish the memories of my Dad taking us to the exact stall where he slept waiting for the call to leave for Europe. It was quite moving.

 

It meant seeing the animated Fat Lady on the Mile-long Midway beckon you to ride and “Laugh in The Dark”.

The Ex was the “Wild Mouse”, a small “mouse-shaped car on a track that slithered several stories high and then took a sharp leap down again. What a ride. You had to hold tight your “felt” Exhibition Hat with the Purple Peacock Feather and your name etched in silver sparkle.

 

The Wooden Rocket was a thundering roller coaster ride through twists and turns.

 

Remember “the Derby Racers”? Those huge, colourful horses that stood this high and moved “like the wind” round and round in that huge space that housed them at the far end of the Midway. I can still feel the warm, candy-floss tainted wind in my face. Gee, you really had to hold on tight because those things really moved!

 

There was smell of the Tiny Tom Donuts cooking in the Food Building. Probably 50 cents a dozen back then. Free samples were everywhere. There were amazing new inventions and products to buy at the International Shoppers Market. That hot iron never slipped from the tilted ironing board-hard as the demonstrator tried.

 

Nights under the stars at the Exhibition Stadium featured Bob Hope, Anne Murray and Frank Sinatra. Daytime thrills in that same stadium with the Hell Drivers. Relaxing at the Bandshell listening to a huge orchestra bathed in “cool blue” stage lights. I even bought a plant or two at the Horticulture Building directly in front of the Bandshell.

 

On Lake Ontario it was “Aquarama”. Oodles of finely-muscled young men holding other young men- ladies too, aloft as they maneuvered the choppy waters of Lake Ontario Red Maple Leaf Flags in hand. A stirring, patriotic sight!

I would watch the Water Show several times and still want more. Those were the days when men wore nothing but a Speedo and a pair of skis. None of this sissy-wet suit/lifejacket stuff today. Just bronze bodies glistening in the hot August sunshine. Can’t you just smell the water and the suntan lotion?

Today there’s a different odour coming from Lake Ontario.

 

The CNE used to host 3 million fairgoers a year in the decades of the 60’s and 70’s. Now about 1.5 million enter her Princess and Dufferin Gates.

The rest of them just don’t know what they’re missing do they?

 

Go to the EX before Labour Day because stepping inside the CNE Grounds is like discovering your very own “fountain of youth”!

ROBBLOG #551

I don't know what made me cry more...

That Grandmother in British Columbia who was losing herself to dementia and ended her own life in a peaceful, loving, serene way or that young reporter- beheaded by a terrorist, who quite possibly is a British Citizen gone awry.

Both stories are sad.
Perhaps even shocking to most.

Life really is wonderful-
most days.
Sure, we all have bad days when we long for something better like peace and tranquility.
However, at times peace and tranquility remain out of reach, like they are on another planet. Still, we have to make the best of what we have.

I completely understand that Mother/Grandmother's actions. Rotten, unforgiving dementia was snatching her away from those that love her. She had some happy, final, heart-wrenching times with them all and then earlier this week decided she was through.

Years of dependency in a care home loomed large.
Diapers.
Memory loss.
Soon she wouldn't be able to read a book.
Watch TV.
Think.
Take a walk.
It was time for her.
She passed in the outdoors in a space she loved.
I'll bet the angels swooped down and carried her away to a safe place.

Then, that reporter who was filmed before and during his execution by those fighting for what they believe is the right way.
The executioner- who had his face and body covered in black clothing, leaving just a pair of deranged, insane eyes peering out through a slit in the facial covering- could be of U.K birth.
Someone born in the U.K. turning their mind inside out and following this bunch of religious-based fanatics.
Religion based?
You bet your sweet ass.
My thoughts go to his family. They just wanted him home.

As we go about our daily ways, people are being enslaved, blown up, beheaded, stoned, murdered, stabbed and savagely beaten and killed. It's hard to fathom that these horrors happens in our world as we stand in line for our large Tim's- with milk.

I think about it at times.
We enjoy a nice sunny day.
Take a bike ride.
A walk.
Go shopping or spend an evening with friends, yet a few hours flight time away it's an entirely different world with different rules, different beliefs and no sense of just how wonderful life can be.

Then, I think about some of the folks I see every day in Orillia who don't take advantage of what is right on their doorstep. They would rather live in a world of drugs, booze, welfare, fights, welfare, dirty living conditions, handouts, welfare and disrespect.

One doesn't have to go far from Orillia's downtown to see it.
Experience it.
It's all there.

So, the joy of living happily in this world is not for every human on earth but is for those of us who see, understand and appreciate what this world has to offer.

I may start to cry...again.

ROBBLOG #550

Good Gosh…Aren’t we lucky? 

Here we live in the beautiful, small-yet sprawling, city of Orillia. We have two lakes and a nice downtown where green canopies of leaves stretch cross Mississaga Street in the summer sun, creating a shady place to sit and linger for a while.

We have parks and trails for walking and biking.

We have a miniature train for the kids and Festivals along our waterfront and Downtown streets.

We have big box stores and locally run shops.

We have sports fields and a hockey rink or two. Of course, we have no major rec facility-yet, that brings all these activities together under one roof.

It’s Orillia’s curse. 

We also have “heart”- a warm, good community with heart. Orillia always has had “heart”.

Yes, we have all these things and more.

Here’s the more.

For a city of 30,000 people and an area serving 75,000, we have two summer theatre companies.

That’s right. Two!

Have you taken notice?

We have the Opera House, the historic old gal that sits quietly next to the glass façade of our new library and we have The Orillia Stage Company at the OCC on Colborne Street- the former Orillia Cinema 4.

This is quite a fantastic accomplishment for a City of our size. 

Both companies/facilities offer an assortment of “live” theatre shows.  We’re approaching mid-August but there’s still plenty of time to go to a show.

Hundreds of people from out of town take the time. 

Buses pull into Orillia throughout the week from the big city.

The occupants visit the OPP Museum and the Leacock National Historic Site.

Many stay in our local hotels, Inns and B&B’s.

They marvel at Champlain standing high atop that rough-cut boulder, hat in hand.

They have lunch at a local restaurant.

They tour Lake Couchiching and our Downtown.

Many see a “live” theatrical show and they rave about it afterwards. 

Maybe Orillians are missing something?

Real people, performing for real audiences, in real theatres?

Not many communities can offer this to visitors and locals alike.

Plus, it’s cheaper than you might think. Summer theatre always offers special prices for groups.

There are 2 for one nights and occasional coupon specials.

Call the theatres to ask what’s available and just go see a show.  

Takes the kids and let them experience the world of “live” theatre. Yes, there is a world beyond video games, hockey and soccer. People- actors we call them, standing on a stage telling a story or singing a song. Not Television or a Blu Ray DVD or a Movie.

It really happens right on stage- right in front of an audience. 

Currently, the Orillia Opera House is offering Vegas Knights. Derek Marshall serves audiences some Sammy, Dean and Frank. Cool summertime entertainment .Colin Stewart leads the band. The show runs until August 30. Call the Box Office 705.326.8011 and take in a show- in air-conditioned comfort. 

The OCC at 64 Colborne Street has Nunsense. A “bunch” of Nuns who go “bananas” and they do it all for laughs. Sherisse Laurence, Paige Tuddenham-Kitchen, Amy Moodie, Meaghan Ing and Michelle Bailey- the Sisters of Hoboken. Renee Cingolani is the Music Director with Jason Thompson (Sister Jason) handling lights and sound. Sister Mary Margaret is the “show hostess”, keeping audiences laughing and “in line”. The Orillia Stage Company Box Office number is 705.242.8011  

A friend once said- “All theatre is good for all theatre”.

In the same manner- all theatre is good for all of Orillia.

If you’ve never been to a live theatrical show before, this is your chance to see two shows right on your doorstep. 

Support summer theatre because it’s all part of the Heartbeat of Orillia.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ROBBLOG #549

I have never been a Nun before...

Until now.
I am not even sure how it happened.
A week ago I go down to the OCC to help Mary Lou and Jo Anne usher and carry on front of house duties.
I decide to take a nun costume along with me- just for the fun of it.
The Garage Door Players have 5 of them. I thought- "they are not funny locked up in a plastic bin. Maybe if I wear one while ushering it'll promote some chuckles."

Anyway, Mary Lou asks me to go on board the buses bringing folks to the show just to welcome them and explain what the OCC is like inside- the lay of the land if you will- and where the washrooms are in relation to the theatre.

One things leads to another.
I get this Scottish/Irish accent going and my name appears out of the blue as "Sister Mary Margaret" and- A Nun is Born.

Actually in a show a few years ago, my buddy Hank mentioned that his sister was a Nun, so it all fits.

Since that first show it's been a "heavenly" blast.
I am polishing my craft.
Doing standup.
Thinking on my feet. Nothing is scripted.
It all comes from my mind. I talk to the theatre-goers.
Make them laugh.
Tell a joke or two- all before Act I.
Sister Mary Margaret is now the "Show Hostess"

Then I "man"- or..."Nun"... the refreshment counter at intermission.
I ask for tips in aid of "The Orphans of Sierra Leone."
One show I managed to take in $19.50.

They like me...they really, really like me!

So, now I am in for every show until August 23rd.
I have been added to the programme.
I have a photo up inside the lobby.
Three weeks of being Sister Mary Margaret.

So come along a buy a ticket. Box Office is 705.242.8011 or come to the
theatre at 64 Colborne Street, East- Downtown Orillia.