Category Archives: Unpacking The Writer

Unpacking The Writer ► First In A New Series

I started my professional career on a machine like this.
I still bang my keyboard as if it’s a manual typewriter
and I wear off the most used letters within a year.

Welcome to the inaugural post of a new, occasional blog series that will look into the machinations of being a professional writer. Pay attention to the man behind the curtain.

Last night I found dozens of files in a folder that was buried inside a folder, which was nested in another folder, that was interred deeply on the hard drive of my computer. I didn’t realize I was still lugging this stuff around. It’s not all that heavy.

It’s a strange melange of files and contains a lot of crap, but there’s also some wonderful stuff that would be called ephemera, if it were actually printed on paper. Some of it’s fascinating; some is dross. There are angry letters, email from the early ’90s, query letters to editors, articles I clipped and saved, research links, sketches for short stories, articles I started writing “on spec” but never found a place to publish, and some files that I don’t even remember how they got there or who wrote them.

Included are several early drafts of published articles. Like the one below. This article was originally published by Hamilton Magazine and was a lot of fun to write. At the time I was fairly new to Hamilton, Ontario, and knew almost nothing of its history. Consequently, then entire article had to be researched extensively. Before it could be narrowed down to 50 items, I had to come up with a list of some 100 items, which me and an editor whittled down. The file is named DRAFT 15. There still would have been changes and corrections made before
it was published [and I see a few I would make], but
this is the version that was approved and for which I finally
got paid. I am publishing it as is. However, I added the illustrations, a few hyperlinks, and a couple of writer’s notes that I couldn’t resist.

Since Hamilton Magazine is not using it any longer, I will. I presume the copyright has reverted back to me by now. If not: Oh well.

  

Hamilton Magazine’s
Silver Anniversary
25 Years to Remember & Forget

It’s been a wild ride.

From good to bad and back again, Hamilton
Magazine has been there.
It’s not been all Sterling Silver. Some of
it has been merely Silver-Plated. A lot of it was steel. From polluted air and
harbours to the comeback of Cootes Paradise. From Opening
Nights to Closing Days. From Mayor Jack MacDonald to
the dawn of Morrow to Mayor Rob Wade. Disasters.
Parks. Eateries.
When an anniversary rolls around, it’s hard
not to get a little nostalgic and want to look back. So indulge and forgive
Hamilton Magazine if we reminisce on the last two and a half decades and
commemorate moments worthy of distinction – and some we would just as soon
forget. Which we plan to do, as soon as we get it out of our
system.
Your own mileage may vary.

1.     
OUR COPPS IS TOPPS: There may be no
bigger booster of Hamilton
than Sheila Copps, Liberal MP for Hamilton East and daughter to the city’s
second longest-serving mayor Victor. Sitting in cabinet in Ottawa variously as Deputy Prime Minister,
Environment Minister, and of late, Heritage Minister, she has been quick to
find and send federal money our way. Her defenders say that because she’s a
smart, confident and outspoken woman, she threatens the male power structure
and that’s the reason she gets a bad rap. From the first Copps hasn’t allowed
the sexist baiting to get the best of her. When, as new MPP at Queen’s Park
she was directed to “go back to the kitchen” she responded by presenting the
offender an autographed Liberal cookbook. She’s thrown her hat in the ring to
be the next Leader of the Liberal party and, if something happens to the Paul
Martin juggernaut, the former Rat Packer could become our next Prime
Minister.

  1. COPPS AN ATTITUDE: Sheila Copps has not always brought welcome press and been a
    positive ambassador for Hamilton.
    In her various squabbles at Queens
    Park and
    Parliament, she has variously been described as “the Princess of
    Innuendo,” “yattering,” “Goddamn ignorant
    bitch” (by former-Burlington Tory MP Bill Kempling),
    “baby,” and “slut” (again by Kempling). A
    constant knock against “Tequila Sheila” is that she’s shrill. And, no,
    it’s not just a gender thing. Women feel that way too. Even Sheila. In
    January of ’73, she admitted “Because I am a woman, my vocal cords
    tighten up when I get excited and I sound shrill.”

    Her defenders say a male politician would never be subjected to scrutiny
    by Blackwell, but that didn’t stop the fashion maven from declaring,
    “Her hair would look good on a man” and “As a fashion statement, she’s
    zero.”

    Sheila Copps with the recently
    deceased Lincoln Alexander.

    For better or worse, she’s our Sheila Copps.

2.     
SEASONS IN THE SUN: In 1986,
Hamiltonians celebrate as the Tiger Cats humiliate the Edmonton Eskimos, by a
score of 39-15, to take home the Grey Cup.

Thirteen years later: The Ti-Cats do it all over again, trouncing the Calgary
Stampeders 32-21 to the delight of 1999 fans.

  1. SEASONS IN THE
    SHADE:
    Could the worst Ti-Cat season be 1989
    when, at the end of their best season on record (12 wins), they lost the
    Grey Cup to Saskatchewan by  a
    field goal in a 43 to 40 game (which, incidentally, still holds the
    record for the most points ever scored in a Grey Cup game)? Or, could it
    be the 1998 season, when the Ti-Cats lost another Grey Cup to Calgary by the
    narrower margin of 26 to 24? Was it possibly the dismal ‘97 season, when
    the Ti-Cats finished the year with only 2 wins and a whopping 16 losses?
    Or, could it be the entirety of The Ballard Years (1978 -1989), when King
    Harold of Hockey ruled the team? You decide.
Martin Short (on the right) with Eugene Levy

3.     
HAMMER & NAILS: There’s a game Hamiltonians
love to play. With great pride we will point to those local guys and gals who
have made good on the world stage. At the drop of a hat we will list their
accomplishments and their entire CVs.

It is always with great pride we note Martin Short and Eugene Levy are from
Hamilton, both graduates of Westdale
High School. Working
together, they gave us the brilliant SCTV Comedy Network and a hilarious mockumentary
called The Canadian Conspiracy, about how Canadian comedians are taking over
the United States.
This duo also appears together in Father of the Bride, Parts I and II, both
box office bonanzas.  Separately they have
appeared in such masterful comedic fare as “Primetime Glick”,
Mumford, Mars Attacks!, ¡Three Amigos!, “Saturday Night Live”, Best
in Show, American Pie, Waiting for Guffman, The
Last Polka, Splash, and Tears Are Not Enough.

If it were just these two Distinguished Canadians, Hamilton could simply rest on those
laurels. However, we also want to claim Ivan Reitman, who discovered his
ability to direct movies while at McMaster
University.

Two pairs of sibs are also embraced by The Hammer: Gema Zamprogna (Felicity, Road to Avonlea) and Dominic Zamprogna (Edgemont, The Boy’s Club) F/x2) are making
inroads in the acting profession, while Ian and Dave Thomas took separate
roads; one a musician/songwriter, the other a comedian also coming out of
SCTV.

If that were not enough we can also lay claim to Roberta Bondar
(another McMaster grad), who has explored Outer Space and Daniel Lanois who has probed the Inner Spaces of music.

Still on the musical front, Hamilton
also claims Lorraine Segato (Parachute Club), who
grew up on the Mountain and Tom Wilson (Junkhouse
and Blackie and the Rodeo Kings), who may never grow up, hopefully.

Ivan Reitman (on the right) with Raffi?
Do parents hold it against Daniel Lanois for Raffi?
  1. SCREWS:  Do we really want to
    claim Reitman? As a director he helped Eugene Levy perpetrate Cannibal
    Girls and also brought us such disasters as Kindergarten Cop and the more
    recent Evolution.

    Or even Short and Levy for that matter. They’ve given us such turkeys as
    Clifford, Pure Luck, Josie and the Pussycats, Holy Man, Speed Zone!,
    Armed and Dangerous, and Going Berserk.

    Even Lanois is suspect. To all those parents
    who were tortured by hours of Raffi, it is
    only fair to point out that Lanois was both
    engineer and musician on many of those releases.

    [Writer’s note: It’s always fun when one
    can work a friend into an article. I’ve
    known Lorraine Segato for what seems
    like centuries. We were in college together
    and, as station manager, I gave her a radio show on Radio Sheridan at Sheridan College in Oakville, Ontario. I have followed her career ever since.]


4.     
FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH: To celebrate Hamilton’s 1996 Sesquicentennial, the city decides to
restore the beautiful old Victorian fountain – condemned and removed in the
‘50s – to Gore Park. The spire and top bowl of the
original fountain were slated to be installed in Sam Laurence
Park at the top of the
Jolley Cut, until the new proposal is passed. As with anything involving Gore Park
after the Chainsaw Massacre [see # 4 to the right] the plan was mired in
controversy. Eventually, the more favoured spot, both politically and
architecturally, in the middle of Hughson
Street, intersecting the park, was rejected by
the public in favour of putting the fountain right back where it had been 40
years earlier.

  1. THEY PAVED PARADISE: The darkest
    day in downtown is, without a doubt, June 18, 1983 in what has thereafter
    been known as The Gore Park Chainsaw Massacre. Century old trees are
    hacked to the ground to make way for a snack bar, amphitheatre, and
    other projects. By the time the construction dust settled in October
    (and only after the city issued a Stop Work Order), it was decided to
    tear down the half-finished new structures and re-landscape the park
    under a brand new master plan. In the interim, we were left with little
    more than a construction site in the downtown core for well over a year.
    After the usual calls to fire city employees, and a decision not to hold
    a Public Inquiry, it turns out city politicians had been asleep at the
    switch and no one knew what the plan had been before the Parks
    Department ordered in the chainsaws. Taxpayers were on the hook for all
    the changes – and the changes to the changes – but no amount of money –
    only time –will bring back the old growth in the park.
5.     
AN ENDANGERED SPECIES: It is now the
last of its kind in Hamilton,
but when the Westdale Theatre opened in September of 1935 the printed program
proudly proclaimed it had been built with local labour and local materials. By
today’s standards its one, large screen – and 490 seats – harkens back to a
simpler time – a time when an evening out began with a boisterous rendition
of God Save the King and closed the same way.

Opening night at the Westdale was no different. In between was a speech by
city controller F. F. Trealeven, followed by a
colour travelogue of Los Angeles.
Before the Intermission the audience was treated to a Charlie Chase comedy
short. After the intermission came the main feature: “Dance Band,” starring
Charles “Buddy” Rogers.
(Rogers was known as “America’s Boyfriend,” and the following year, would
marry Mary Pickford, a former-Torontonian called “America’s Sweetheart.” They would
remain devoted to each other until her death in 1979. See? A much simpler
time.)

During the last 25 years, when other movie palaces were bulldozed to make way
for today’s Multi-Plex Modernity, the Westdale has
stood proudly, if a little threadbare, as one of the great examples of the
intersection between Art and Commerce.

  1. WATER, WATER
    EVERYWHERE:
    The Great Flood of January 2003
    can be looked at as a cautionary tale of how budget cuts due to
    amalgamation could turn around and bite us when we least expect it.
    Residents along Herkimer and Charlton West were rudely awakened by the
    sound of rushing water, in many cases rushing right into their basements
    by the force of the raging water blowing in the windows. As water always
    does, it worked its way to low ground, mirroring the path of an ancient
    streambed, which had long since been covered over by development.

    When the waters finally receded untold dollars of damage were being
    added up, home owners fought with insurance companies and no one would
    ever look at Hamilton’s crumbling infrastructure the same way again.

    [Writer’s note: I lived on Charlton West during the Great Flood of Oh Three.]

6.     
CHILD’S PLAY: The opening of the
Hamilton Children’s Museum on July
22, 1978 created a world-class retreat for families and
classrooms in the heart of Gage
Park. Which is ironic
considering the original name of the house was The Retreat. The Gage Family
left Jubilee Farm to the city and the red brick house they built about 1875
was always called The Retreat. The Hamilton Children’s Museum is second only
to Dundurn Castle for the number of yearly visitors.

  1. NO MORE RAIN: The Earthsong Festival banner
    waived for a magical decade over Princess Point in picturesque Cootes
    Paradise. The official reason for the failure of Earthsong
    was reduced funding. However, there was also some talk the festival was
    hard on the fragile environment of Cootes Paradise and Westdale
    residents complained long and loud about congestion and litter. No
    matter what the reasons, when Earthsong ended Hamilton lost a
    wonderful multi-ethnic celebration, but many people remember the smells
    of the ethnic food wafting over Princess Point.
7.     
SUBURBAN RENEWAL: The first shovel of
dirt should be turned any day now on what will become the Red Hill Expressway.
Mountaineers have long complained how hard it is to get on and off the
escarpment and this roadway will ease the pain. When it will be finished is
anyone’s guess.
  1. SUBURBAN RUIN: A highway rammed through the pastoral Red Hill
    Valley is
    something environmentalists want to stop at any cost. They say the Red
    Hill Expressway is a mistake still on the drawing board that’s not too
    late to cancel.

8.     
PARADISE FOUND: Cootes Paradise, which
straddles Hamilton and Burlington,
is as beautiful a spot as anywhere in Canada. All through its long
history, it has remained undeveloped by either housing or commerce, but that
didn’t stop it from becoming polluted. In the last 25 years, Cootes Paradise
has been brought back from the brink by many projects, spearheaded by the
RBG, the Bay Area Restoration Council (BARC), and various local environment
groups. Now one can see rare egrets in the bay. The blue heron are back.
Swans regularly use the inner bay for nesting. An estimated 14-16 million
fish can be found in the western end of Cootes. Pollution is down, although
not out, and the system of trails criss-crossing Cootes Paradise makes for
one of the nicest walks anywhere in Hamilton.
When in the thick of Cootes it’s easy to forget you are surrounded by two
major cities. It just feels so remote.

  1. DOWNTOWN IN DECLINE: The collapse of downtown Hamilton happened over a period of
    time and came in stages. Among the contributing factors:

    When Jackson Square opened it pulled people off King Street, which hurt area
    businesses.

    In the economic downturn of the ‘80s, businesses closed their downtown
    offices, leading to fewer customers, leading to more storefronts being
    shuttered.

    Eaton’s, the anchor store in City Centre closed.

    Still fewer customers at Jackson
    Square so most of the chains started
    closing in the downtown mall.

    Shopping habits moved to the new suburbs and the Big Box Stores. What
    was once a burgeoning downtown is now just an economic shadow of its
    former self.

9.     
GOING TO POT?: Marijuana activists
Michael Baldarsaro, 53, and Walter Tucker, 69, have
been battling the marijuana laws of the country since founding the Church of the Universe on September 11, 1982. Their nascent religion claims marijuana
as a sacrament and it’s been getting those wacky boys in trouble ever since.
With the Feds promising to decriminalize the country’s marijuana laws, it
appears Baldarsaro and Tucker were way ahead of
their time. As prescient as they may have been, it’s hard not to laugh at
their antics. Like the time they were busted for sending Health Minister Alan
Rock a baggie of their best to test for medical marijuana trials or the
various times one of them has run for mayor. In fact, in the next municipal
election Baldarsaro was first at the gate to
register to run. That’s dedication. Whether you are outraged or just think
they are simply outrageous, darling, there’s no denying The Church of the
Universe is always good for a laugh.

  1. A NEW YORK STATE OF MIND: In
    a misguided attempt to create an entrance corridor into Hamilton, the city
    expropriated businesses and homes along York Street, stretching from
    Dundurn to Bay, including historic homes at 518 and 555-7 York Street. More than 210
    business owners and residents – incorporating 111 properties – are
    relocated. Those businesses that could not afford to relocate closed
    outright. Widening York
    Street did create a corridor into the city,
    but the grand urban renewal projects slated for along the boulevard
    never materialized and a local neighbourhood is decimated by the
    wrecker’s ball.
10.  A BLOOMING GOOD TIME: Small thing also serve to beautify a city. The Keep Hamilton
Blooming campaign, run by Hamilton City Parks and Recreation Department,
matches companies and individuals to streetscapes and medians. This match
results in annuals and perennials being planted along Hamilton streets, which bloom throughout
the warm season. A beautiful thing indeed.

Alas, this program is being threatened by the budget cuts forced by
amalgamation. In another 25 years, we may see this topic on the other side of
the ledger.

  1. URBAN URINE: Another dark day for downtown came when the Comfort Station
    below Gore
    Park was flushed
    away, despite it having received 1981’s coveted “Best Public Washroom”
    award from Today Magazine. The decision to wash our hands of the
    facilities came in May of 1984, a year after The Rape of Gore Park [see
    above]. By the time the Gore’s redesign of the redesign went ahead, the
    entire project was so far over budget that something had to be cut and
    it was decided it would be the lovely tiled, well-kept, and
    well-remembered washrooms under The Gore.

11.  COPPS OUT?: Although we now rent it out as a movie set, the Victor Copps
Trade Centre Arena, or Copps as it is more commonly known was a big deal when
it opened on November 30, 1985. Opening ceremonies began at 11:30 a.m. followed by an
old-timers hockey game pitting the former Hamilton Red Wings against the St. Catharines Black Hawks and Teepees.
The first wrestling match at Copps, Mosca Mania,
was held just two months later, on February 2, 1986. It’s been downhill ever since.

  1. BLACK DAY IN JULY: On July
    11, 1997, a black cloud rose over Hamilton, both literally and
    figuratively. By the time firefighters finally knocked down the Plastimet inferno on the 12th, the city
    had declared a state of emergency and about 650 people had been
    evacuated. The dense, black, toxic plume put Hamilton on the map for hundreds of
    miles in every direction. While Public Health Department officials say
    there should be no long-term effects, residents, firefighters, and
    police officers all report troubling symptoms.

    In an odd twist, Hamilton’s
    previous state of emergency concerned the same property. Early in the
    ‘90s, a metal recycling plant on the site had closed. In 1993 some teems
    broke into the abandoned factory and made off with a quantity of deadly
    mercury.

12.  IT TAKES A VILLAGE: In the last 25 years, Hess Village has become the most vibrant
place in Hamilton
for Night Life. Yet, year after year its existence is threatened and
activities curtailed by ongoing complaints from area residents.

Hamilton Magazine humbly makes two suggestions for keeping Hess Village
thriving for another 25 years: a). Local residents with noise complaints
should do it quietly; b). those who go to Hess Village
to party should make less noise than the residents.

Why can’t we all get along?

  1. BOUGHT THE FARM: Upper James, in fact much of the Mountain, was once a place
    where farms flourished. However, like all cities, Hamilton had to expand. In the
    process, all the lovely farms up on the escarpment were bulldozed to
    create the same Shopping
    Theme Park found
    on the outskirts of any city anywhere.

13.  THE MORE THINGS CHANGE:  Beautiful
Downtown Dundas is as quaint and perfect an example of small town Ontario still existing among the urban sprawl in the Oshawa – Hamilton
corridor. While other small towns have lost many of their older buildings, Dundas’ storefronts
retain that same nostalgic quality, while serving a vibrant and active local
community.

  1. PUT THE LIME IN THE
    COCONUT:
    Be honest: Who hasn’t called it Slime
    Ridge Mall at one time or another? When Lime Ridge Mall opened, it
    changed forever the shopping patterns of Hamilton residents.

14.  FAVOURITE SON: The Honourable Lincoln “Call me Linc” Alexander has had many accomplishments
in his 80 plus years. He was the first Black Member of Parliament,
representing Hamilton West from 1968 through 1980. Named Ontario’s first Lt. Governor of colour, he
served as the Queen’s representative from 1985 to 1991. In addition, in 1997,
a highway was named after him. How perfect is it that the affectionate nickname
for the roadway that brings Hamiltonians together is The Linc? Making the
irony even more delicious is the fact that Linc has never driven a car in his
life. License or not, at his 80th Birthday Bash then-Premier Mike
Harris presented him with his own provincial vanity plate reading LINC 80.

  1. BIGGER IS NOT
    ALWAYS BETTER:
    With the stroke of midnight January 1st 2001, the city of Hamilton swallowed Stoney Creek, Flamborough, Ancaster,
    and Dundas
    in. Overnight the city’s population jumped from 387,000 to 489,457. Like
    all the other amalgamations across the province it was sold to us as
    revenue neutral, but taxpayers have lost dearly as costs are downloaded
    onto residents.

15.  A BRIDGE TOO FAR: After years of arguments, proposals, studies, cancelled tunnels,
and construction the newly twinned Burlington
Skyway Bridge
is officially reopened on October
10, 1985 and dubbed the Burlington Bay James N. Allan Skyway at a
cost of $41.8 million. In attendance was James N. Allan himself.

  1. BRIDGE OVER
    TROUBLED WATERS:
    OPP Constable Paul Brammer has the dubious honour of investigating the
    first fender-bender on the newly opened Burlington Bay James N. Allan
    Skyway, a mere 14 minutes after the official dedication. The crash pits
    Transportation Ministry official Alfred Wittenberg’s 1984 Datsun against an ’85 Mazda, driven by St. Catherines reporter Kevin
    Hodges. The damage? Four-hundred dollars and some bruised egos.

16.  A BRIDGE TOO FAR; THE
SEQUEL:
The High
Level Bridge
has always made a grand, if understated, entrance into Hamilton. On July 11, 1988, the High
Level Bridge
was refurbished and rededicated the Thomas
B. McQuesten High
Level Bridge,
honouring both the city’s past and a man crucial to Hamilton’s development. Thomas McQuesten is largely responsible for the RBG and the
province’s system of highways. The High
Level Bridge,
by any name, is an architectural treasure and the best way to enter Hamilton.

  1. DOLLARS TO DONUTS: In October
    1999, Hamilton’s
    World Famous Tim Hortons
    Store Number One re-opened after extensive renovations. However, rather
    than using the opportunity to create a time capsule to reflect its 1964
    origins, the donut shop on Ottawa near Main was redecorated to look like
    any other Timmys anywhere else in the world.
    Gone was the chance to give Hamilton an
    interesting cultural donut Mecca
    to remind the city of its working-class roots. Oh well. At least they
    erected a nice big plaque to commemorate the event.

17.  BORIS AND NATASHA: Despite Boris Brott calling Hamilton Magazine one of his pet
peeves in a 1981 Hamilton Spectator article, we are going to show how
magnanimous we can be by including the Peripatetic Maestro on the To Be
Remembered List. Love him or hate him – there seems to be no middle ground –
Brott has invigorated the Hamilton
music scene since his 1969 arrival to twirl baton for the Hamilton
Philharmonic Orchestra. He wears his Order of Canada with pride and has never
stopped being a booster of the city of Hamilton,
with his Summer Music Festival, despite all the bad press he has received
over the years.

  1. THE FOUR HORSEMEN
    OF THE APOCALYPSE:
    The beautiful Birks Building, at the corner of King
    and James streets, was already gone when Hamilton Magazine began
    publishing, but the ornate “Charging Horsemen” clock that
    greeted passers-by remained. However, in 1984 it was taken away and
    reinstalled two years later outside Jackson Square following extensive
    repairs. Only two weeks after the clock was put back into the downtown
    area, the plug was pulled. The charging horsemen were not working
    properly. The clock was beginning to sag, causing the horsemen to run
    into each other. The clock has had many problems and been repaired many
    times since and although the “Charging Horsemen” no longer charge
    the clock still sits outside of Jackson Square.

18.  URBAN RENEWAL #? If you have ever watched Anne of Green Gables, you have seen it.
If you’ve driven past Whitehern, at 41
Jackson Street West, you come to understand why
it’s considered one of the best examples of Victorian life in Canada.
It is also one of Hamilton’s
greatest architectural treasures. In 1991, the Natural Historical Sites and
Monuments Board recognized Whitehern for its historical and architectural
significance and once again an honour was bestowed upon Thomas McQuesten, Whitehern being his former-estate. Future
generations of Hamiltonians will be able to tour a truly beautiful building
and grounds and future movies will be able to film there.

  1. CHOCOLAT: When Laura Secord closed its doors at 113 King Street East in 1984, for
    the last time, they had been in business in the same location for more
    than seven decades. They opened on October 20, 1913 to supply the City of Hamilton with
    Laura’s famous candies.
19.  URBAN RENEWAL # ?: A $125,000 facelift in 1995
saved one of the architectural treasures of downtown Hamilton. The Right House was built between
1890 and 1893, and has watched over the corner of Hughson and King for well
over 100 years. When it was converted into spaces for service oriented
businesses, it gave The Right House, Hamilton’s
first department store, a new lease on life. [DRAFT] William Stewart &
Son architectural wonder that was the Right House is retained on King Street.
[DRAFT]
  1. IS THIS THE RIGHT
    HOUSE?:
    It was a
    sad day indeed when, in January of 1983, The Right House – Hamilton’s first
    large department store – closed its doors for the last time.

20.  CHINA FOOD: The Pagoda Chop Suey House at 85 ½ King Street East
is the oldest established restaurant in Hamilton,
having opened in 1942. At one time, it was the only place to buy ethnic eats
in Hamilton.
However, as Hamilton
has come of age more restaurants, representing every corner of the globe,
have opened. The discerning diner can eat in Thailand one night and taste
Indian curry the next. Typical of this trend is The Roti
Hut on Main Street East.
A Roti is Caribbean
fast food and is singularily delicious. When you
can buy a tasty Roti, you just know a city has come
of age.

  1. CHINA DOLL: For more than six decades, neighbour to Laura Secord was the
    Herbert S. Mills China Shop, with an international reputation. The shop
    originally opened at 11
    King Street in 1924 and was one of the
    first china shops in North America to
    stock fine bone china. Among customers was Franklin D. Roosevelt’s mother,
    who bought china for the White House in the ‘30s. An order for the
    Japanese Embassy in Washington,
    D.C. alarmed the F.B.I.
    and concluded in some cloak and dagger operations. The spooks learned
    the order was placed by a December 6, 1941 telegram demanded the china be
    shipped before the next day, or not at all. This convinced them the
    ambassador must have known about Pearl Harbor since he was too anxious for the
    Mills order. The Herbert S. Mills China Shop closed in 1985.

21.    A DAY AT THE BEACH: The natives called it “Daonasedao,”
meaning “where the sand forms a bar.” Étienne Brûlé may have been
the first European to see when he passed through these parts in 1615. A
strategic site militarily, skirmishes were fought there during the War of
1812. In the mid-‘70s battle lines were drawn again on the Hamilton Beach Strip, as the city bought up properties in order to form a huge park. In the
end 170 houses were razed and the residents were
upset by this plan to turf them out.  Hamilton’s Beach Strip was officially sanctioned as a
residential area in 1983 and it is now a thriving community.

  1. WHEN CHICKENS COME
    HOME TO ROOST:
    It was certainly a day worthy
    of forgetting when the sheriff bolted the doors and seized the property
    at The Chicken Roost in 1986. Today it’s the site of Cheapies Record
    Store, but at one time, the lines snaked down the block to get into one
    of Hamilton’s
    most fondly remembered restaurants. The Roost opened at 67-69 King Street East
    on October 1, 1948
    by the Mintz Brothers Max and Benny. The desired
    delicacy was the signature Chicken on a Bun, with BBQ Sauce, a recipe
    smuggled from Toronto.
    For a while CHML’s Meet at the Chicken Roost,
    with Gordie Tapp,
    could be heard on the radio every Saturday night. The original owners
    sold to out-of-town businessmen in 1984, but they could not make a go of
    it. On May 11, 1986,
    interested parties could wander aimlessly in a Frid Street warehouse where the
    former contents would be auctioned, ending an illustrious run as one of Hamilton’s great
    eateries.
22.  THAT’S THE WAY NIAGARA FALLS: It has stood for millions of years, carved out by the glaciers
that scoured the countryside as they advanced and retreated. When the last
Ice Age ended Head of the Lake was left with
its unique geography and geology.

On February 8, 1990
UNESCO (The United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization)
recognized what Hamiltonians have long known and declared the Niagara
Escarpment as an International Biosphere reserve.

The Bruce Trail
runs through the escarpment for more than 800 kilometres, from Queenston near Niagara to Tobermory
on The Bruce Peninsula, making it the largest footpath in Canada. And, some of its
loveliest sites are right here in Hamilton.

  1. WATER, WATER
    EVERYWHERE; PART TWO:
    They tell us it’s not
    as bad as it once was and we are winning the battle against pollution in
    Hamilton Harbour. However, the question
    still begs itself: When will it be safe for our children to swim there?
23.  TO MARKET, TO MARKET: Unlike many cities and even smaller towns, Hamilton has managed to retain its Farmer’s
Market. Now housed under the Main Library (where much of the research for
this article was conducted, incidentally), the market has operated, in one
form or another, since April 14, 1837 when Andrew “Yankee” Miller deeded the
land to the city for 5 shillings in tax arrears. At the ripe old age of 166
years it is still one of the liveliest places in the city to buy fresh
produce and meats and a walk through The Market is like a walk around the
world.
  1. THIS LITTLE PIGGY
    STAYED HOME:
    The Farmer’s Market moved to
    its current location in 1980. At the time Rick Butwick,
    a Waterdown farmer and Market vendor said
    about the new facilities, “It looks more like the inside of a battleship
    than a market.” And it still looks the same way 23 years later. Which
    begs the question: Whose crazy idea was it to put the Farmer’s Market in
    a concrete barn of a space?
24.  WADE INTO DEEP WATERS: Although current-Mayor Rob Wade has stuck with his predecessor’s
decision not to make any more proclamations [See #24 to the right], he has
been more proactive by walking in the Hamilton Gay Pride March and has even
allowed the rainbow flag to fly over city hall. Nary was a protest heard.
Maybe Hamilton
is growing up.
  1. MAYOR McCHEESE: In 1991, former-mayor Rob Morrow gained the ire of Gays and
    Lesbians nationwide when he steadfastly refused to proclaim Gay Pride
    Week in Hamilton.
    Angered at the mayor’s intransigence, Joe Oliver decided to take the
    case to the Ontario Human Rights Commission, arguing he was discriminated
    against based on his sexual orientation. After almost 4 years, the OHRC
    agreed, ordering Mayor Morrow to proclaim Gay Pride Week if asked again.
    He was in 1985, and so he did. That was the last proclamation ever made
    by the Mayor’s Office. In order to avoid having to ever proclaim Gay
    Pride Week again, the mayor promptly went out of the proclamation
    business. Say goodbye to McHappy Day.
25.  HAMILTON GOES INTERNATIONAL: After several years of investigation, followed by a complete
exoneration, John C. Munro gets his final reward from the federal government
when Mount Hope
Airport was renamed the John C.
Munro Hamilton
International Airport
on April 6, 1998.
Munro – like Sheila Copps who took over his seat when he retired – Munro
never forgot his Hamilton roots and always
managed to make sure the city came in for Ottawa’s largess when money was being doled
out.
  1. RETURN TO SENDER: John C. Munro’s “Return to Greatness” mayoralty campaign in
    2000 was a disappointment for his backers and the once mighty federal
    minister who could do no wrong. He spent $206,782 to garner a mere
    14,308 votes, or about $14.50 per vote.

Unpacking Aunty Em ► My Shocking Confession

“Hanging” Chad. Despite his
name, Chad’s a wonderful dancer.

I have never voted in an election in my entire life. In fact, it’s somewhat of a family tradition. I am a Second Generation Non-Voter™. 

I had always assumed that Pops voted before I moved back in with him to help him out. I was shocked to learn he never voted in his life. I’ve asked Pops why he doesn’t vote and simply put: he thinks they’re all crooks and doesn’t want to encourage them. People ask me why I’ve never voted and I say, “It’s complicated.”

Get comfy, kidz.

When I became of a voting age, I was already living in CanaDuh, where I moved after growing up in ‘Merka. However, I wasn’t a Canadian citizen. I was merely a “Landed Immigrant,” which is the equivalent of having a Green Card. You must be a Canadian citizen to vote in a Canadian election, just as you have to be a ‘Merkin to vote in ‘Merka.

I lived in Canada as a Landed Immigrant for quite a while. During that period I covered several elections for several publications. I also worked for the #1-rated tee vee newsroom for a decade, which had me working during several long election nights live — some in the newsroom and some as a Field Producer producing, err, out in the field at an election headquarters.

Having no stake voting in Canadian elections, I looked at them from afar, the same way I get to look at the Christmas hysteria every year. It’s a very different experience when watching the sausage get made, especially when one can’t even vote. Having no stake in ‘Merkin elections, I looked at them from even more of an afar, the same way I get to look at the Super Bowl hysteria every year.

If truth be told, I could have voted absentee in ‘Merkin ‘lections. I became eligible to vote there in 1971. Since then there have been no matchups exciting enough for me to go through the process of learning how: Nixon-McGovern; Carter-Ford, Carter-Reagan, Reagan-Mondale, GHW Bush-Dukakis, GHW Bush-Clinton, Clinton-Dole, Bush-Gore, Bush-Kerry. Sorry, but in my opinion none of those races were worth getting out of bed for. Besides, I lived in Canada and never anticipated moving back to ‘Merka. What did I care?

John and Sandra are not related.
Anne and Pierre are cousins.

However, ‘Merka could learn several things from the elections of those crazy Socialists to the north. Lesson Number One: Ballots are uniform across the country. What’s more, they couldn’t be simpler to understand. Make an “X” in a circle on a piece of paper. That’s it. No butterfly ballots. No hanging chads. If there needs to be a recount, all those paper ballots are right there to be recounted. If there’s a dispute? All those paper ballots are right there to be examined.

In Canada electronic voting machines are not owned by one of the candidate’s sons. I put no trust in electronic voting. If entire countries can be hacked, so can your vote. Besides, electronic voting has no paper trail. If you get a receipt for a donut, why not for something as important as your vote?

Lesson Number Two: The Suspense. ‘Merkin ‘lection campaigns always seem to be happening. And, the elections come like clockwork. Senators serve 6 years. Presidents serve 4 years. Congress critters serve 2 years. There always seems to be an election of national import going on in ‘Merka. It seems no sooner that one election is finished, the signs go up for the next election. Those who serve in Congress have it worse. They begin their next campaign on Wednesday.

Suspense is one of the best parts of the Canadian election system. In Canada elections tend to happen every five years, because that’s as long as a government can sit legally without calling one. UNLESS one is called before 5 years have passed. Under the parliamentary system, a Prime Minister
can call an election at any time. If he thinks the party could pick up
more seats in the House, he might call a snap election. But, since Canadians hate being asked to make a firm decision about anything, especially politicians, he better have a good reason to call an
election. He could be punished at the polls if he misreads the mood of the public. Another case in which a snap election can be called — in fact, must be called — is when a minority/coalition government loses a “vote of confidence” in the House.

Lesson Number Three: Most of my ‘Merkin friends would love how there are three viable parties in Canada, as well as a few rump parties that also garner votes. Consequently, if a candidate wants to win, she cannot just appeal to the extremist wackadoodles on one side or another, like what happens in ‘Merkin ‘lections. Having multiple political parties also means that minority/coalition governments are possible. A minority government is the circumstance best for the public in the long run. Political parties have to compromise and work together to get any laws passed. If a government falls due to a vote of “non-confidence,” the party that showed the most intransigence leading to the snap election could be punished at the polls. 

My Majesty’s a pretty nice girl,
but she doesn’t have a lot to say.

Lesson Number Four: The election cycle in Canada is mercifully short. The
legislated minimum length of an election campaign is 36 days. While there’s no maximum legislated length, other laws about
when a government MUST sit in the House would kick in.
This would effectively limit an election campaign to a year. However, and this is the blissful part, Canadian election campaigns generally only last about 5 weeks, TOPS! Then it’s done. Finished.
Kaput. Over. And Canadians forget all about politics until the next election.

However, this essay is supposed to be about me not voting. I digress.

All the time I lived in Canada, it bothered me that I couldn’t vote. All I would have needed to do was become a Canadian Citizen. However, somewhere deep in my heart and psyche I was still a ‘Merkin. There was something about having to swear allegiance to The Queen — a MONARCH, fer fuck’s sake!!! — that went against the grain. Charles Roach — a man I respected who passed away last month — took the same stance as I did. He went further and wanted to abolish the entire monarchy. I didn’t care that much. However, as a ‘Merkin I still couldn’t bring myself to pledge allegiance to a MONARCHY!!! Ain’t that what ‘Merkins spilled blood over way back when, or did I confuse my wars again? They all look alike.

Pics in the Public Domain stitched together by author.

However, it was decades of watching ‘Merkin ‘lections, while fully immersed in a Canadian news stream, that made me 100% cynical about ‘Merkin politics. What can you say about a populace who elected Richard Nixon twice, despite the fact that he was always Tricky Dickie, and always would be? ‘Merkins elected Dubya — not once, but twice!!! That’s when I finally gave up on ‘Merka and decided to take out my Canadian citizenship — oath be damned — just in time to return to ‘Merka to take care of Pops.

That was the supreme irony. While I hold dual citizenship, there were other parts of that
solemn oath I swore to The Queen, and all her heirs and assigns. I also swore
that I would not vote in another country’s elections, nor serve in
another country’s armed forces. I took that part of the oath seriously. Therefore, I am still prohibited from voting. I wonder if I can vote absentee in Canadian elections?

When I returned to ‘Merka, after 3.5 decades outside the country, I decided to adopt the nom de plume “Aunty Em Ericann.” It seemed to fit because I felt almost like a “Stranger in a Strange Land.” The country was familiar on the surface, but once I started digging deeper, I didn’t recognize ‘Merka anymore. She was uglier and meaner than I ever expected her to be. There was far more of “I got mine, Jack. Fuck off” than I ever would have imagined.

However, after careful consideration, I realized the fault was all mine. I came to realize that I had retained an idealized, halcyon, childhood, rose-coloured image of ‘Merka in my mind all of those years in Canada, where there are enough safety nets to catch almost everyone.

I watched the election of Barack Obama from Florida in 2008 with alarm. There was far more racism than I ever could have imagined. Little of that was reflected in the mainstream media news stream (which includes Fox “News”). It was the deeply racist rumblings in some of the circles I found myself immersed in, on the patio at Starbucks, overheard in line at the store. Because people thought I belonged to the same White Skin Club, they’d say the most outrageous things to be unbidden.

‘Merkin racism has only gotten — Yannow, I was going to say “worse,” but I’m not sure it’s worse. I think it has just become more acceptable to express, so it is just out in the open these days. Some people believe because there is a Black president, racism ended. Therefore, they feel more comfortable blurting out the stupidly racist shit that’s dangled at the end of their tongue unexpressed all those years.

Edward Everett Hale, 1865

But I digress and am about to do so again, but I’ll connect it all up at the end.

When I was growing up, there was a short story that deeply affected me. It always brought me to the verge of tears. I recently re-read it and my reaction was even more visceral. How did I know as a child how deeply it would affect me as an adult? But I did.

The Man Without a Country was a short story originally published anonymously in The Atlantic Monthly in 1863. The author was later revealed to have been Edward Everett Hale and it purports to be a true story. However, it is not, something I only learned while researching this paragraph. Yet, that doesn’t change the way I feel about this story. It seems to describe me in a way that I never could have imagined when I first read it as a child.

When I am finally allowed to vote, I will no longer feel like Philip Nolan, whose obituary begins The Man Without a Country.

Me and Pierre Trudeau ► Nostalgia Ain’t What It Used To Be

DATELINE October 18, 1919 – Pierre Elliot Trudeau is born in Montreal, Quebec, Canada. While he was born into wealth, when he became Prime Minister in 1968 there were no Canadians who didn’t think he also spoke for the “little guy.”

I shook Pierre Trudeau‘s hand once. It was 1967. I was a 15 year-old ‘Merkin and at summer camp, which was in Michigan. Every year, in an effort to shoehorn culture into us, we would be sent to Stratford, Ontario to take in a Shakespeare play. We were waiting in front of the playhouse and the doors were still closed, long past the time they should have opened. Several of us were milling around on the steps, hoping to be the first to get inside.

Suddenly a black limousine pulled up, a man jumped out of the back, and the crowd went wild. Suddenly all the Canadians erupted in applause and cheering. As the doors to the playhouse opened, and we were held back from entering, PET bounded up the few stairs shaking hands all the way as the crowd magically parted for him. I was right at the door. Pierre Trudeau turned to his left, where I standing, and reached out to shake my hand. I reached back. For 2 seconds we were connected. Then he ran into the theater. The audience was held back another few minutes so he could get settled, but the crowd waiting was ELECTRIFIED. I had never seen anything like it before. I turned to the closest Canadian and asked, “Who was that?”

“That’s Pierre Trudeau. He’s our Justice Minister,” words that meant absolutely nothing to me at the time. Skip ahead a few years. By 1971 I was living in Canada and Pierre Trudeau was MY Prime Minister.

Trudeau was a transformational politician. He was a Rock Star. He was loved and hated, but remained Prime Minister until his defeat in 1979. However, just a year later the Joe Clark government fell on a Motion of Non-Confidence and the Liberals won the subsequent election, with PET serving as Prime Minister until 1984 when he decided to retire.

Pierre Trudeau will always be known as the Prime Minister who patriated the Constitution from Great Britain in 1982.

This documentary was made during the period when Pierre Trudeau was still Justice Minister and shaking my hand. It was made by celebrated Canadian journalist Norman DePoe for the CBC program News Magazine.

Pierre Trudeau died in 2000 and the entire nation mourned.

Unpacking the Aunty Em Ericann Blog Again

Every once in a while I like to pull back the curtain and show my readers what it looks like under the hood here at the Aunty Em Ericann Blog. However, and this is the important part, it’s really just an excuse for me to beg my readers to click on the ads. That’s the only way this blog generates any money for me and I work on it so very hard. Click on an advert. Clicking on an advert will cost you nothing, but it will put a few pennies into my pocket . . . and I do mean “few.”

All-time Top Ten posts.
Click to enlarge
All-time Top Ten search terms. Click to enlarge

I started this blog on April 19, 2012. Since then the blog has had 35,352 page views (as of this writing), which averages out to approximately 7,070 page views per month. That’s not bad for a newish blog. At left is a list of the all-time Top Ten Posts. It’s clear even at a small resolution that the Number One post is ahead by a wide margin: 1,493 to 610 for the Number Two post. I find that stunning for a bunch of reasons, main among them is that I’ve not promoted the Number One post; people have found it through the Googalizer, as evidenced by the next graph. At the time of this writing 526 people have found the Number One page in a search, as opposed to 293 who searched and found the Number Two post on the blog.

For the record: The Top Ten posts on the Aunty Em Ericann blog are:

Entry Pageviews
1494
610
560
375
319
310
310
281
281
266

Some of those surprise me. There’s really no reason I can think of why the Barbara Walters clip comes in at Number 10, or why the post on Wretched Gretched clocks in at Number Six. Both were intended to be silly one-offs, yet they keep on garnering readers. Amazingly neither are part of the search terms people have used to find my blog.

Who am I to argue with my readers? They know what they like.

I am gratified, however, that some of the posts I am most proud of have made it into the Top Ten.  Specifically I’d like to point to the ones on Josephine Baker, The E.W.F. Stirrup House, When Whites Went Crazy in Tulsa, and The Detroit Riots. The thread that connects them all is that they are all about Race Relations and Racism, a subject I have been researching as my own Independent Studies Course as long as I can remember.

Meanwhile, I will keep publishing my blog. Hopefully my readers will realize how much hard work goes into writing these posts and will click on an advert, or two, or three and help support this project.

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***

My Evening With First Lady Michelle Obama

My ticket.

It was a thrill to get my ticket to see The First Lady Michelle Obama. One thing that was less than thrilling: To get the ticket I had to fill out a form on which I left my phone number blank. Before they’d give mer the ticket they insisted I give them my phone number, so I reluctantly did. The night before the First Lady arrived I received 3 calls reminding me the First Lady was coming. The the exact reason I didn’t want to give my phone number: I didn’t want to be bothered by a number of electioneering calls. Three calls for the same thing, within an hour of each other, borders on harassment.

Next year they will combine these
events and you can learn how
to knit your own gun.

The Michelle Obama rally was taking place at Fort Lauderdale’s War Memorial Auditorium, just off Florida’s famous US Route 1 near Sunrise Blvd. In the seven years I’ve lived down here, I’ve not been to War Memorial Auditorum, known as War Memorial to the cognoscenti. Oddly enough, I have been to the Parker Playhouse just catercorner from it. I saw documentarian Ken Burns at the Parker (as the cognoscenti call it), when he brought a preview of his amazing documentary “Prohibition,” and afterwards took questions about his body of work. But never the War Memorial. And, because I approached Parker Playhouse from behind, I didn’t even know War Memorial was there. They hold a lot of different kinds of events at War Memorial Auditorium, as this sign I saw on the way there will testify.

I still have the same 9,514 tunes on my music machine and by happenstance a great Sly and Robbie Reggae tune was blasting out of my windows when I arrived. Several people gave me a thumbs up. However, when that ended “Brown Sugar” started playing. I said, yeah, yeah, yeah, OOOoooo! I wish I was making this up.

There were loads of people and several fire trucks gathered around the front doors. The fire trucks were necessary because of the 95 degree heat. I saw more than one person drop and need medical attention. The line snaked around the side of the building and there were several hundred people there before I arrived. We settled in for a long wait. Doors were scheduled to open at 3:00, but my part of the line didn’t get in until about 4:30. When I finally got to the doors I looked back. The line stretched way beyond the point where I originally joined it.

Monument near the doors.
Finally near the doors.

While we waited in line volunteers kept working the crowd, making sure everybody was registered to vote and to see who wanted to volunteer to help President Obama win the election. There was another group of volunteers who worked the crowd to alert us that we couldn’t bring in umbrellas, which many in the crowd carried to protect themselves from the oppressive sun, or cameras. This instruction puzzled a lot of people, who were all carrying cameras, and it had to be explained over and over again. The first explanation was that  phone cameras were okay, but no other cameras. That also puzzled a lot of people, like myself, who were carrying stand-alone cameras. “Why are phone cameras allowed, but not other cameras?!?!” People were getting hot, and it wasn’t entirely from the heat. A lot of people had cameras and it’s only natural to want to document the day you saw the First Lady of the United States. It’s something you’ll want to show your children and grandchildren, provided the Mayans are wrong. Then it was clarified that small cameras, like mine, were allowed by not “big cameras.” However, the volunteers were unable to define “big camera” to anyone’s satisfaction. I presume they meant a 35mm camera with a telephoto lens, but who knows.

Far more amusing: Women were told that large purses were not allowed, which just made all the women near me in line laugh. Most of them had large purses, some the size of small suitcases. The volunteers couldn’t define “large purse,” just as they couldn’t define “big cameras.” 

One other thing that was odd is they confiscated all signs from the people in line, only to pass out signs to people once we got into the auditorium. What’s up with that?

I wanted to take a picture of the security at the door, but as soon as I leveled my camera I got yelled at. When one is being yelled at by Fort Lauderdale police AND Broward Sheriff officers AND the Secret Service, ALL AT THE SAME TIME, one tends to do EXACTLY as they demand. That’s why there are no picture of that part of my adventure. However, I can describe it. All cell phones and cameras had to be turned on and handed to an officer, who inspected them and made sure they were operable. Purses, fanny packs, and knapsacks were also handed to the officers who searched them extensively. Everyone passed through metal detectors and then were ‘wanded’ on the other side. It was all quite similar to boarding an airplane, except we could keep our shoes on and there were no X-ray machines.

The other major difference to the airport security checkpoints: Everyone took it with good humour because we all understood that The First Lady’s safety trumped (no pun intended) any small inconvenience we might have experienced.

What follows are just some of the 218 pics I took once I was inside War Memorial Auditorium.

There was a time in my media career I would have been sitting on the other side of this barrier.

There was a time in my media career when  I would have been field producing segments like this.

Fort Lauderdale Mayor John P. “Jack” Seiler gets to say a few words to the crowd.
Several people gave pre-game show speeches. Debbie Wasserman Schultz received
the biggest round of applause. She is clearly well-loved by her constituents.

The First Lady must have been delayed at the last minute because I have never seen an intermission after the introductory speeches have already begun. These speeches are supposed to get the crowd revved up for the Main Act. However, they announced from the stage that there would be a 40 minute intermission before the First Lady would come out. That allowed the crowd to both mingle and push closer to the stage. Since it was starting to get a little tight where I was standing I decided to move back, which is why some of my pictures of The First Lady are less clear.

Intermission with an out-of-focus tee vee review stand in the background.

Doing a breathless for Spanish-speaking viewers during intermission.
This woman and the woman seated shared the same cameraman, but spoke different languages.

I finally got pushed back behind the tee vee review stand and had to move to the side to have any view of the stage at all.
The First Lady didn’t need warm-up acts. As soon as she was announced the crowd went nuts!!!

I have far too many pics like this. No sooner would I line up a shot, than someone in front of me held up their hands.

I was able to move a bit closer and had a better angle.

When First Lady Michelle finished her speech the crowd went crazy, shouting “Four! More!! Years!!! Four! More!! Years!!!” “

Then Mrs. Obama came down to the ‘rope line’ metal barriers and talked to people personally.

There was such a crush to get close to her, I couldn’t even get close enough to get a picture.

One of the officers who kept as all safe.

Seeing a First Lady was a heady experience. People left smiling, laughing and singing. It took forever to get out of the parking lots, but everyone was in such a good mood there was none of the typical jockeying for position one might see leaving a sporting event, for example.

All in all, it was a great experience, although a hot one.

My First First Lady

My coveted ticket

I managed to score a ticket to see First Lady Michelle Obama on Wednesday. I am on her mailing list and she wrote to me personally, along with thousands and thousands of others, that she was coming to town and would just love to see me.

She gave three locations where her minions, aka the President Obama Re-election Campaign workers, would be giving out FREE tickets to see her on a First Come, First Served, one ticket per person basis.

Since there were a finite amount of tickets and, I presumed, an infinite number of people who would want them, I decided I would get there early. So for the 1:00 PM call I was shooting to arrive at high noon and, thinking there was a possibility I would be standing in the 95 degree heat for a while, 3 frozen bottles of water, only one of which would fit in my pocket.

The Obama Re-election office was less than 5 miles away, so it took only about 15 minutes to get there. However, I go no where without my new, little Sansa music machine. It’s a terrific machine, smaller than a pack of matches. It has an internal 8 GB hard drive, and a slot for micro-memory card, in which I added another 16 GB of memory, giving me a grand total of 9,514 tunes of every genre you can name. I throw the thing on random shuffle and head out, windows open. Just as I pull up to the people lined up outside the the songs switches from a Reggae tune to, and I wish I were making this up, Louis Armstrong’s version of “Shine.”

There were about 50 people ahead of me when I arrived.

Luckily no one already standing in line was paying attention to the music emanating from my car. I joined the line and waited. And waited. And waited. I was disconcerted. Every 5 minutes someone new came by and asked us to fill out a form and to make sure we had our 2012 Voter Registration Card ready, or we’d not get tickets. Every 5 minutes I explained to somebody new that I don’t have a 2012 Voter Registration Card because I wasn’t allowed to vote. When a one of the volunteers asked if if it was because I was a felon, I changed my response to “I don’t have a 2012 Voter Registration Card because I’m not a citizen.” That didn’t make me many friends either, but at least I wasn’t mistaken for a felon.

Even though they were all telling us we needed a Voters Registration Card to get a ticket, when I explained they said “Don’t worry about it,” but I was. Mostly because they all kept saying we needed it to get the ticket, before they told me privately that I didn’t need it to get a ticket. That didn’t give me much assurance, especially because I heard many people arguing with the volunteers. Loud voices were yelling, “If we needed to bring out Voters Registration Card, it should have been in the email!!!” and “I don’t take my Voter Registration Card everywhere I go!!!” and “You people done fucked up!!!”

In the end no one asked anyone for a voter registration card once we were getting out ticket to see the First Lady, so all that anger and frustration in line seemed to be just for the fun and entertainment of the volunteers.

I arrived at noon and left at 1:45, most of that time standing in the oppressive heat. I had long finished the frozen water I carried and when I got back to the car the other two bottles were almost completely melted, but at least they were still cold.

Here are a few of the other pics I took while waiting.

Still life: Gecko with cockroach on a wall. In Florida they call these Palmetto bugs so they can pretend they’re not roaches.

I tried to get one of these signs for my window, but they didn’t have any more. There was also one that said
“African Americans for Obama” which I wanted, because I have racist neighbours, but they were out of those too.

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***

My First Band ► Cobwebs And Strange ► Nostalgia Ain’t What It Used To Be

When I was growing up, like every other kid in ‘Merka, I wanted to be in a band. The Beatles had just broken worldwide and it seemed like the easiest thing in the world. All you had to do is grow your hair long and shake your head every once in a while, right? No, it turns out being in a band actually involved learning an instrument. That’s where I fell down on the job.

We had a crappy acoustical guitar in the house and I would spend hours fumbling on it trying to make it sound like a guitar. It never sounded like a guitar in my hands. That’s when someone suggested I take lessons. Lessons?!?!?! Who knew?

I took many lessons and never seemed to improve. I’d practice for hours V-E-R-Y  S-L-O-W-L-Y and could pull it off the runs and scales. However, the second I tried to speed up it all started to fall apart on me. I could never make my left hand do what I wanted. Eventually my guitar teacher, as gently as he could, told me to give it up. Now keep in mind: he was getting paid for these lessons and could have strung me out forever, earning money on my fumbling. Yet, he was honest enough to tell me that in his career he had seen a couple of people like me before. Slow, I could play anything he gave me. However, the minute we tried to speed it up to anything resembling music, it all fell apart. I had an uncoordinated left hand that wouldn’t obey commands from my brain. I was heartbroken.

It turns out that time proved him right. Over the years I have learned that my left hand is pretty useless for most tasks. When I smoked I couldn’t even use my left hand to hold the cigarette because I managed to drop it so many times. Trying to use a remote with my left hand? Forget it! I’m the EXTREME opposite of ambidextrous. Hell! I’d give my right arm to be ambidextrous.

I was heartbroken until I saw bands like The Turtles and The Rolling
Stones and The Doors. Those bands had lead singers who only had to know
how to shake a tambourine. So, I bought a tambourine and I practiced shaking it, for hours on end. When I felt I had that down I added my next signature move: I’d shake the tambourine, occasionally hitting it with my left hand. Once I perfected that I moved on to Lesson Three: Hitting my thigh with the
tambourine. That was much harder because on Day One of Lesson Three I
created a huge black and blue bruise on my thigh.

Eventually my right thigh toughened up and I could bang a tambourine
with the best of them. It was time to find a bunch of backing musicians.

Dean Donaldson, my childhood friend from Gilchrist Avenue

The truth of the matter is the band kind of fell together
organically. Across the street from me lived Dean Donaldson who had
taken up the drums. I can still remember how excited he was when he got his
first pair of drumstick and a practice pad, before he ever got his first
drum set. He came over to the house and put his practice pad on our
kitchen table and said, “I can play ‘Downtown’,” the Petulia Clark hit
that was at the top of the charts right then. Then he started singing
and banging on the pad. Every syllable was punctuated with a thud, alternating hands: ♫
WHEN YOU’RE A-LONE AND LIFE IS MA-KING YOU LONE-LY. YOU CAN AL-WAYS GO
[pause] DOWN-TOWN ♫ and at this he did a little para-diddle. It sounded
like real drumming to me. What did I know? I had just perfected the
tambourine.

I went to summer camp with a fellow named Mark Levine, who played Farfisa organ, and another kid named Howard Deitch, who played guitar. Both were not only proficient on their instruments, but had real equipment with real amplifiers too. That was almost more important than being proficient in those days.

So, now I had a band and we needed a name. One of my favourite songs at the time was a demented instrumental by The Who, written by Keith Moon, called “Cobwebs and Strange.” I don’t remember how I convinced the rest to name the band after this song, but they went for it and Detroit’s “Cobwebs and Strange” were born. Actually, I know why Dean voted for it, because we also did the song and he got to do some wild soloing during that song.

Here’s The Who version. Ours was never recorded for posterity.

The set list was, for the most part, mine. It had to be. I was always the final determining factor for any songs we did, because the song had to be in my very limited vocal range. We did a lot of Doors, The Who, Animals, and Mothers of Invention, The Turtles (which is ironic, due my later friendship with Howard Kaylan; we even did Happy Together and I didn’t have to pay Howard 17 cents either). All those influences were mine, as were the Frank Sinatra covers we did.

Mine, mine, mine!!! ALL MINE!!!

Why am I obsessing over a band I started 45 years ago this year, Daylight Savings Time? Because there’s a web site out there called “My First Band” with a page on Cobwebs and Strange in which I was totally written out of the band’s history, even though I formed the band with my childhood buddies and had the most influence on our set list. Under the rubric of “Cobwebs and Strange/The Greenhalgh Band” it says:

Bill, Howard, Dean and Mark formed “Cobwebs and Strange” in 1967. They won a battle of the bands contest at Cobo Hall (Detroit), winning some equipment. The band did a lot of Doors, Who and Mothers. Also some Motown and Moby Grape.

Dean, Bill, Howard and Mark in 1969, after I
had already left the band. I never knew Bill at all.

There is no mention of me anywhere on the web site. I have on 3 separate occasions written to “John Kanaras” for a correction to no avail. He provided the information to “My First Band,” and replaced (according to his own suspect band biography) Mark Levine in Cobwebs and Strange in 1969, having come from Johnny and the Junglemen, which (I’m guessing) was later called The Greenhalgh Band. I have never gotten a response.

Writing to the owner of the web site would do no good. Aside from the fact that he says “we’re no longer taking submissions,” he has a very cleverly worded disclaimer:

The publishers of My First Band™ do not check facts submitted by contributors. All information is expected to be as truthful and factual as possible. My First Band™ is not responsible for any lapses in memory, lack of good taste, assassination of character, disparaging remarks on musicianship, outing of sexual preferences, public exposure of alcohol or pharmaceutical abuse, paternity suits, or any other kinds of vindictiveness festering over 40 years. Information submitted is the sole responsibility of the contributor.

My First Band™ accepts no responsibility for erroneous or fabricated information concerning the bands or individuals listed as members of said bands, so if you’re out to humiliate that guitar player that got all the girls and kicked you out of the band, piss off, we’re just trying to have a little fun here.

A version  of Cobwebs and Strange I was never in

“Having a little fun here” was the whole reason I started the band in the first place. That and the fact that deep down inside I was a frustrated musician after not being able to play guitar. Maybe that’s why I later went into music promotion and managed several bands.

By 1969 I had already left Cobwebs and Strange because I went to be a councellor at Camp Tamakwa in Algonquin Park, Ontario, Canada and, by the end of that summer, had met a Canadian gal I eventually married. I didn’t live in Detroit a whole lot of time after that and spent 35 years in Canada before returning to the States to take care of Pops.

Me onstage on the venerated El Mocambo stage (where
The Rolling Stones also played) with Drastic Measures.
I love this pic because it appears as if I am singing with
Drastic Measures. I am not. I’m just introducing the band.

The sad, sad truth of the matter is Cobwebs and Strange were probably better off with
out me. I am, to be generous, a mediocre singer with a limited range.
When I do Karaoke, there are some songs I can nail. I do a mean “Sixteen
Tons;” have great fun doing the Otis Redding arrangement of
“Tenderness,” rocking out at the end on the stuttering part; but my favourite is to do the
Louis Prima arrangement of “Just A Gigolo/I Ain’t Got No Body” with my
Louis Armstrong voice. These 3 tunes always go over big because I have
’em down pat. But more importantly, they are in my range and don’t
require me to harmonize. I can’t harmonize worth shit.

Once I was visiting my friend Tony Malone, who I also had the honour of managing when he was the leader of Drastic Measures. He was building up tracks on a song at his home recording studio and asked me if I wanted to add a backup vocal. I was thrilled because I’d finally be on a Tony Malone song. He played me the song and then sang me the part I needed to sing as harmony to his main vocal. I had no trouble singing the part he wrote for me to sing. That is, until he hit playback. Every single time I fell off my harmony line and sang the main melody that the recored Tony was singing. He gave me a nearly a dozen attempts and I did the same thing every time. Without the playback, I had no problem singing that very simple harmony. With the playback, I was a total vocal idiot. Frustrated, Tony gave up on me and sang the harmony line in ONE TAKE! One fucking take!!! I felt humiliated. But I also knew I was watching a true professional at work.

Anyway, that’s my story of My First Band and I am reclaiming my history starting NOW.

***
***

How Jamaica Conquered The World ► The Day I Met Bob Marley

The latest episode of the excellent podcast-documentary How Jamaica Conquered The World is now online. Episode Eleven is the second part of the story of Bob Marley: Recollections and Legacy. It includes an edited version of my “Meeting Bob Marley” story. The story takes place backstage at Convocation Hall, Toronto.

Here’s the first part of the Bob Marley story:

Some of my recollections are also featured in Episode 3: The Story of Dub Music:

I highly recommend How Jamaica Conquered The World, and not just because I’m in it. It is a high quality documentary on Jamaica’s influence around the world in the past 50 years.

Unpacking The Aunty Em Ericann Blog

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One of the cool things that Blogger gives a blogger like me is a bunch of stats. There’s not a lot of ways to view the information, but within the statistics can be found some real information. F’rinstance, since starting this blog, here are the Top 10 countries where my visitors live:

United States [9,601 visitors]
Italy [1,420]
Canada [320]
United Kingdom [284]
Ireland [177]
Russia [168]
Germany [119]
France [67]
Australia [46]
Netherlands [32]

    This is information I find totally useless. It would make more sense to know who they are than what country they come from so I can ask them personally if they enjoyed their stay here and how much they think it was worth.

    However, this is info I found more useful:

    Pageviews by Browsers

    1. Firefox 9,336 (64%)
    2. Internet Explorer 3,472 (24%)
    3. Chrome 619 (4%)
    4. Safari 343 (2%)
    5. Mobile 296 (2%)
    6. Mobile Safari 214 (1%)
    7. Opera 71 (<1%)
    8. Instapaper 21 (<1%)
    9. BingPreview 4 (<1%)
    10. Maxthon 3 (<1%)

    It allowed me to see what the Aunty Em Ericann Blog looked like on other platforms.

    But wait! That’s not all!!!

    Pageviews by Operating Systems

    1. Windows 8,782 (61%)
    2. Macintosh 4,731 (32%)
    3. iPhone 320 (2%)
    4. Android 217 (1%)
    5. Linux 144 (1%)
    6. iPad 115 (<1%)
    7. BlackBerry 41 (<1%)
    8. Other Unix 12 (<1%)
    9. Windows NT 6.1 8 (<1%)
    10. SymbianOS/9.3 2 (<1%)

    HA! There are operating systems on that list I have never heard of.

    As of this moment [1:29 PM DST; June 18, 2012] here are the Top Ten All Time Posts on my Aunty Em Ericann Blog:

    The Top Ten All Time Posts on the Aunty Em Ericann Blog

    257 Pageviews

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