This blahg will be very short and very precise. I’m not any kind of political activist but it bothers me here in Canada to see what’s happening with the so called “Freedom Convoy” in Ottawa, Alberta, and blocking the bridge between Detroit and Windsor. When I see protesters in our area, I have a tendency to roll down my window and shout at them. That’s not helping the cause, I know. My wife doesn’t like it when I do it. But sometimes you have to use the platform you have to speak out. That’s why this blahg will be political today.
First, let’s talk about Freedom. The protesters in these convoys and blockades and occupations say this is about Freedom. Take a look around, if you don’t see iron bars in front of your face then I’d say you already have Freedom. Yes, you have the Freedom to say you don’t like the vaccines or the mandates but don’t make the rest of us pay for your Freedom of making a poor choice. Many of these protesters deny the science behind vaccines but most of them are not scientists or health care providers or researchers. They keep spouting the same incorrect lies and clap-trap that we’ve heard from Americans and Donald Trump. We don’t need that. America has its own problems and Donald Trump is one of them. I’m glad he’s not in power anymore. He’s an idiot and a racist. That’s all the time I’ll spend on him.
These protesters and truckers in the convoys and occupations are making the rest of us pay for having done the right thing. Vaccines are the right thing. Vaccine passports and mask mandates are the right thing. The majority of us are tired of the mandates but we do what we have to do to keep ourselves and everyone else safe. Again, we are the majority and we don’t picket or protest or upset other people’s lives. No one should reward the Freedom Convoy because the rest of us, the majority, are not asking for a reward for having done the right thing. The only way we get through this is for everyone to get a vaccine, if you can, and not protest against the majority of us who know what is right and do what is right.
Lastly, this is a message to politicians. The Federal Conservative party want to cave to the demand of the protesters. They want our Prime Minister to end mandates or repeal them. That’s wrong! We don’t negotiate with terrorists and when you’re protesting and terrorizing everyone because you’re in the minority and wrong, we shouldn’t negotiate with you! Stand strong Prime Minister Trudeau. I support our Prime Minister in not meeting with the Freedom Convoy. Again, don’t negotiate with the minority. The majority stand behind you!
In Ontario, Doug Ford has done very little. There will be a spring election and it will be time to vote him out. He has powers in his tool-kit to deal with the protesters but he doesn’t use them. He should be in the media every day decrying the actions of the protesters and the Freedom Convoy and telling them to go home. If he can’t or won’t do that, it’s time for Doug Ford to go home permanently and let someone else lead who knows that the majority are the voices you need to listen to. Majority equals votes and right now, you’re not likely to get them!
That’s enough for this blahg. Stay safe and keep up the good fight. Vaccines work and mandates work. I’ll roll down my window anytime and say that. That’s my Freedom.
I guess the correct title for this blahg should be: “SAY IT AIN’T SO…NO MORE THE WEEPIES.” Earlier in this month I posted my 2022 False Ducks Video Ramble, THE 2022 FALSE DUCKS VIDEO RAMBLE, in which I mentioned that Deb Talan and Steve Tannen, known collectively as The Weepies, have split up. I hadn’t heard any news of the duo throughout 2021 so I checked their Facebook page earlier this month and read the following post:
The Weepies final shows EVER are coming up in January 2022!
It’s been a time of big change all around for sure. Before the pandemic we realized we had to go our separate ways. We are both so grateful for the time we spent making music, putting it out into the world, and sharing it with all of you. It was magical, and we’re both forever changed and enriched by that time. As we move on to other creative projects we hope that you, like us, will treasure the era when we made music as The Weepies.
Thank you for the support through the years. We’ll see you in the days ahead.
All the best to all of you.
Deb & Steve
What a punch to the gut! I checked out their Wikipedia entry and found that the following last line had been added:
Talan and Tannen got married in 2007 and had their first son in October that year.They went on to have two more sons later. They later divorced, which was finalized on New Year’s Day 2020
Again, what a punch to the gut. Readers of this blahg will know that I’m a huge fan of The Weepies and had seen them twice in concert in Toronto. I wish them the best but I’m still deeply saddened by this news.
I guess the biggest thing for me, besides the fact that there won’t be any more new The Weepies albums, is that I won’t get to see Steve and Deb live together again. Perhaps they’ll tour Canada again separately and I’ll probably go to their individual concerts but I’ll never see The Weepies live again. I saw them twice in Toronto back in 2016 and 2018. Here is a picture when they played The Drake in 2016:
I wanted to take some video of the concert but I couldn’t shut off the bright light on my cell phone. I decided to record part of the concert from my pocket but I only managed to record part of the song “Jolene” sung by Steve and part of his next song about a Jig. Here they are:
I did manage to find the following video online that someone posted from that concert in Toronto. This is The Weepies performing “Ever Said Goodbye”:
I wish had recorded more and especially some of Deb Talan’s great vocals. She sang a couple of songs from her yet to be released CD “Lucky Girl” when she was in Toronto but I could only find the following video of one of those new songs, “Butterfly”, from her Detroit, Ohio concert two nights prior to the Toronto concert.
Here they are The Great Hall in 2018:
I did record the entire audio of the recording and I thought I would post the entire concert here for download. Here the link:
Here are a few individual samples. First up here is “Hideaway”:
Next is Steve’s great version of “Sing Me To Sleep”:
Deb Talan closed the show with the following stirring version of “Stars”:
I thought I would take the time to post some of their other live performances. YouTube has many excellent videos of The Weepies in live performances so I thought I’d re-post some of them here so you can get a feeling of what we’ll all be missing out on now that they’ve separated. First up is a rare slow tempo version of their song “Be My Thrill.” This was previously done uptempo so I’ll offer up the official music video of that song followed by the slow tempo version. The slow live version is from their appearance at the Oregon Zoo on August 20th, 2011.
Also from 2011 is The Weepies performing “Gotta Have You” from their album “Say I Am You” at the Troubadour in West Hollywood, CA on August 17, 2011:
Staying with 2011 here are The Weepies (Deb Talan, Steve Tannen, Jon Flaugher) performing “I Was Made for Sunny Days” on a beautiful summer evening at the Britt Festival, Southern Oregon – August 23, 2011. I love “I Was Made for Sunny Days” and find myself singing this infectious song:
The Weepies went back again to the Troubador in West Hollywood, CA on August 14th, 2016 and here’s “The World Spins Madly On” from that concert:
Here is a compilation video of The Weepies at the Kirkland Performance Center in Kirkland, Washington on May 17, 2018. It features the songs “Hideaway”, “Walk On”, “Crooked Smile”, “I Don’t Know Why”, “Old Coyote”, “My Little Love”, “Wish I Could Forget”, and “Sing Me To Sleep”:
Here’s another compilation video from 2018 when The Weepies appeared at Sony Hall on December 16, 2018. This compilation features clips from the songs “Walk On”, “Growing Up”, “Little Bird”, “All That I Want”, “Gotta Have You”, and “Sirens”:
Jumping back to 2015, this is a full version of “Sirens” from their last album performed live at the State Theater, Falls Church, Virginia on June 21st, 2015:
Another one from 2016, this time it’s a full version of “All That I Want” from their performance at The Wilbur Theatre in Boston, MA on December 11, 2016:
The following is not a live performance but the official video of “Sunflower” incorporates video of a live performance by The Weepies at an unknown venue:
I wanted to post a couple of videos that I never got to hear The Weepies perform live but are fantastic songs and something rare and unique from them. The first is “Mend” from the soundtrack of the movie, “Wish I Was Here”:
The second is from a compilation album of Springsteen’s Born To Run album recreated on ukulele by various artists. I love Steve’s vocal here on “Backstreets”:
I am sure there are more live videos out there to be discovered. I’ll keep on looking. Farewell The Weepies. I wish Steve and Deb the best. Thanks for all of the music!!
What a busy January this has been! I recorded this Video Ramble nine days ago and I haven’t even had a chance to post it. Since then the temperature has dropped even colder and we had a wicked snow storm last week. I had a Covid scare last week and was home for a couple of days waiting on the results of a couple of rapid tests. Both were negative but then our furnace conked out again on Friday night and again Saturday afternoon. This is the third time in the past two weeks. Let’s hope they have fixed the problem this time. My Father used to do this for a living but I’m not the son who inherited any of that knowledge. Speaking of my Father, he passed away on January 19th, 2019. On January 20th of this year, I remembered the anniversary of his passing. I think that’s okay because I really don’t want remember his passing but rather his life. Love you Dad!
Have a look at the 2022 Ramble video and I’ll highlight some things below.
The Cool and Lam series are the following books written by Erle Stanley Gardner as A. A. Fair. The series consists of the following 29 books (now 30, with the discovery of an unpublished work in 2016). I have read 1-9 in the following list plus number 30 as it was written to be the second book in the series but was left unpublished until 2016. So, I’ve read exactly one third of the books in the series. This is from the Cool and Lam Wikipedia page:
The Bigger They Come (1939)
Donald Lam is hired by Bertha. His first assignment is to serve a subpoena on a man that nobody can find. This first entry in the series turned on a real loophole in the extradition laws of the State of Arizona which made it possible, under certain conditions, to commit a murder without being punished provided one remained in Arizona. After its publication, a public outcry caused the Arizona Legislature to convene in special session to plug the loophole.Gardner had used this device earlier in his ‘Ed Jenkins’ stories, locating the loophole in California law (this time, fictitiously) so that Jenkins (though a known crook) could operate in California without being extradited for crimes in other states. The Cool and Lam stories were written under the pen name “A.A. Fair”, and Gardner’s authorship was not revealed till the 1940s.
Turn on the Heat (1940)
William Morrow and Company, January 1940
Dr. “Smith” is looking for his wife who left him 20 years before. It was made into a 1958 TV pilot for an unproduced show called Cool and Lam.
Gold Comes in Bricks (1940)
William Morrow and Company, September 1940
A blackmailing gambler, a corrupt lawyer, and an expert in salting gold mines, all are grist to Donald’s mill.
Spill the Jackpot! (1941)
William Morrow and Company, March 1941
Set in Las Vegas. A runaway bride and a slot machine-fixing ring seem to have no connection. Bertha loses the weight, and falls in love! But…
Double or Quits (1941)
William Morrow and Company, December 1941 Detectionary: “First—the missing jewelry. Second—the client found dead in his garage, and Cool and Lam are trying to get from an insurance company double indemnity for the lovely widow.” Bertha begins fishing.
Owls Don’t Blink (1942)
William Morrow and Company, June 1942
Donald has two intertwining cases: finding a lost girl and bringing to justice a murderer. Set in the French Quarter of New Orleans. America has entered the war, and Bertha thinks she has helped gain Donald’s immunity from the draft.
Bats Fly at Dusk (1942)
William Morrow and Company, September 1942
Donald has calmly volunteered for the Navy to fight the Japanese, and Bertha fumes. She works on a case involving a blind man and a pet bat, with help from Donald via telegram. Donald’s —Police Detective Frank Sellers—is introduced. Bertha gets in over her head and quits; Donald flies down on a military pass, solves it, and flies back. Bertha only finds out later.
Cats Prowl at Night (1943)
William Morrow and Company, August 1943
Bertha must locate a client’s missing wife, who controls all his money. No signs of Lam are seen at all, though he is heard of. She manages somehow, but almost fails. Frank proposes to her.
Give ’em the Ax (1944)
William Morrow and Company, September 1944
Donald returns, and takes control of the agency. The case is of a wife cheated with car insurance and blackmail.
Crows Can’t Count (1946)
William Morrow and Company, April 1946
A case involving both stolen and smuggled emeralds, the latter half of which is set in the nation of Colombia.
Fools Die on Friday (1947)
William Morrow and Company, September 1947
Donald Lam tries to put “psychological handcuffs” on a potential poisoner, but things do not work out the way he planned. “Fools Die on Friday is about the best of the series since the first two. Perhaps since the very first.
Bedrooms Have Windows (1949)
William Morrow and Company, January 1949
Case involving “a pocket edition “, in which Donald himself is suspected by the police of a serious crime. Sleazy nightspots, dubious photographs, a stay at an auto court goes wrong—could there be blackmail? More spice than usual. Gardner originally wrote this series under a pen name because he wondered if some of the plot points he intended to use with Cool and Lam would be bad for his image. However, laxer standards in the 1940s and on made him decide to admit writing the series.
Top of the Heap (1952)
William Morrow and Company, February 1952
Previously, Bertha has complained that Donald had been getting the agency in over its head lately. Donald then promptly shows the agency was used as a cat’s paw to prove a phony alibi, in a case involving gangsters, gambling houses, Point shaving, a former stripper, a money laundering scam, and phantom gold mines. Bertha is mad enough to try and dissolve the partnership. Available in the Hard Case Crime series.
Some Women Won’t Wait (1953)
William Morrow and Company, September 1953
The question is: did Donald’s beautiful young client poison her rich and decrepit husband, or didn’t she? Set in Hawaii. Bertha tries to dance the hula.
Beware the Curves (1956)
William Morrow and Company, November 1956
Suspect in the murder is trying to figure out if it is safe for him to return to his beloved six years later. The victim was her husband who had sent the suspect to die in Amazonia to marry her.
You Can Die Laughing (1957)
William Morrow and Company, March 1957
Donald clashes with a client, with whom he has a written contract to locate a certain woman. He thinks the client is lying to him, but takes the case.
Some Slips Don’t Show (1957)
William Morrow and Company, October 1957
Set in San Francisco and environs. Practically everyone ends up on a plane at one point or another, so almost anyone could have caused that guy to be found dead in his motel room. Donald knows it wasn’t him. The worry is: do the police know that? Fancy footwork with fake keys and real claim checks could help.
The Count of Nine (1958)
William Morrow and Company, June 1958
A rich dilettante “Explorer” finds his poisonous blow gun he had brought back from the Amazon used for a murder. Or so it seems … This one is notable for two things: First, Gardner re-uses a favorite trick from his Perry Mason series; juggling duplicate bits of evidence. Instead of guns or bullets, Lam has a more interesting set of twin jade Buddhas with a ruby in the forehead. It will pay the reader to watch closely who has which, and when, and why. Secondly, the key plot point has a resemblance to G. K. Chesterton’s Father Brown story, The Arrow of Heaven. This may be unintentional, but arguably, Gardner has come up with a more imaginative use of the concept.
Pass the Gravy (1959)
William Morrow and Company, February 1959
Stacked blondes, hitch hikers and trips by several people to Reno to gamble are incidental to the two main points. 1. What are the legal issues surrounding the exact way the assets of a spendthrift trust are to be distributed? 2. And what are the exact legal circumstances surrounding the death of a man with a double indemnity policy on his life? If he is dead.
Kept Women Can’t Quit (1960)
William Morrow and Company, September 1960
An armored car is robbed while one of the two guards are inside having donuts and coffee and ogling the waitresses; and when Police Detective Sgt. Frank Sellers catches one of the robbers, he is accused of pocketing the loot for himself. Naturally, he puts the pressure on Donald to solve the case for him, gratis, and get him off the hook. Much money floats about – in fact, a little too much. Whose? (At this time, thousand-dollar bills were still in fairly wide circulation, making it possible to use only a little space to hide fairly large sums.
Bachelors Get Lonely (1961)
William Morrow and Company, March 1961
Industrial espionage, a Peeping Tom, little is what it seems. More than one woman falls for Lam in the course of this investigation, due to his habit of playing square and treating them like human beings. Sgt. Sellers is a little dense at first, taking Lam for the Peeping Tom. The investigation moves to Arizona at one point.
Shills Can’t Cash Chips (1961)
William Morrow and Company, November 1961
Bertha lands a nice, respectable insurance adjustment claim, and hands it to Donald. Donald uncovers assorted ulterior motives, pretends to be an ex-con, hot-wires his own car to impress a gorgeous witness and gets leaned on by a gangster. Then one of the parties involved ends up dead.
Try Anything Once (1962)
William Morrow and Company, April 1962
A worried heel of a husband is hand-wringingly anxious to keep his late night visit to a motel with a cocktail hostess quiet. Unfortunately for him, the deputy D.A. in a hot murder trial was found dead in the motel pool the same evening. The resulting investigation will expose the husband. Donald smells a rat lurking within this story, but finally accepts the fat fee offered to keep Bertha happy. The attempt to protect the client has unexpected side effects, including several women removing their garments for one reason or other, a horrifically false accusation against the straight-shooting Donald and the exciting courtroom climax he engineers in the above-mentioned trial.
Fish or Cut Bait (1963)
William Morrow and Company, April 1963
When Cool and Lam are hired for day-and-night coverage of a harassed woman, a tortuous tale involving a high-class ‘escort service’ unfolds. Donald is dismissed from the case, but inserts himself back in self-defence after the madam comes to an untimely end. He must convince the police it wasn’t him.
Up for Grabs (1964)
William Morrow and Company, March 1964
Insurance again, this time a company that wants to set up an ongoing project to expose phony whiplash claims. Big ongoing retainer, big fees for each claim – Bertha’s eyes glitter at all the legit dollars up for grabs. Donald is packed off to a dude ranch in Arizona to investigate the plaintiff in the first claim, with stern instructions not to stir this one up. It’s not his fault someone’s wife ends up dead in the Sierras, or that Sgt. Sellers is so annoyed at his ‘amateur’ interference that he throws away a key piece of evidence at the scene of the death.
Cut Thin to Win (1965)
William Morrow and Company, April 1965
Gardner has Lam himself review the case – from the back of the 1966 Pocket Books edition. Bertha has her doubts about taking a certain case, “…but I talked her into it when our client laid twelve one-hundred dollar bills on his desk. ‘Fry me for an oyster’, Bertha said. ‘It’s your baby, and you can change the diapers’. Less than a week later, Sgt. Frank Sellers announced he was going to take away my license, Bertha Cool announced that our partnership was dissolved and my secretary was crying on my shoulder. ‘Donald, please – please be careful’. ‘It’s too late to be careful now’ I told her. ‘I’m dealing either with a crooked lawyer, a jealous boyfriend, a scheming daughter, one hell of a wealthy father or a combination of any number of them. When you go up against a combination of that sort, you can’t be careful'”.
Widows Wear Weeds (1966)
William Morrow and Company, May 1966
Blackmail was a dirty business, and Donald Lam liked to stay clear of it. But for his partner, Bertha Cool, no business was too dirty to handle at the right price. And the price for this job was certainly right. What was wrong, though, was a payoff for pictures that weren’t worth a dime, a free dinner that cost the blackmailer his life, and more than a couple of double-crosses that framed Donald Lam quite neatly for a charge of murder.
Traps Need Fresh Bait (1967)
William Morrow and Company, March 1967
Someone is advertising for a witness to an auto accident in such a way as to seem to be suborning perjury. Also, an earlier claim was settled with evidence obtained in this way. The client wants Cool and Lam to find out what is back of it all. Gardner kept up with the law, and knew of the implications of the recent Miranda Rights decision of the Supreme Court for gathering evidence. He believed he had found a loophole allowing evidence improperly gathered under the new rules to be admissible, if obtained investigating another incident, such as a private detective searching a flat without permission. When Donald introduces the loophole, it brightens up Sgt. Sellers’ day no end.
All Grass isn’t Green (1970)
William Morrow and Company, March 1970
Dope smuggling and a witness who is both more, and less, than he seems. It all starts when a client wants to find a missing writer – just to talk to him. A little digging (with descriptions of tracing techniques) shows his girlfriend has vanished too, and the trail goes south, to the Mexican border. Crossing the trail, going north, is a shipment of cannabis. Unsurprisingly for this business, someone ends up dead and the whole thing lands in court. Sorting out who did what and why taxes even Donald Lam’s talents to the limit. Lam shows his considerable ability in courtroom manoeuvring, which reminds the reader that he was a lawyer once.
The Knife Slipped (1939)
Hard Case Crime, December 2016
Originally written to be the second book in the Cool and Lam series but rejected by Gardner’s publisher, The Knife Slipped was found among Gardner’s papers and published for the first time in 2016. Assigned to prove a philandering husband’s infidelity, Donald Lam uncovers a scheme to enable a certain type of municipal corruption. As well as a dead body.
I won’t talk about the Weepies in this blahg. I’m saving that. I do mention Dottie Reid who will also be the focus of an upcoming blahg but here’s a teaser of her singing with Muggsy Spanier and his orchestra on “More Than You Know”:
In my previous blahg, 2021 – WHAT DID I ACCOMPLISH THIS YEAR?, I posted about attending the Transformers convention in December in Mississauga. I was lucky enough to be selected for the annual script reading when I auditioned for the character of Tripredacus even though I didn’t know who that was. Later research from the Transformers Wiki for Tripredacus, https://tfwiki.net/wiki/Tripredacus, explains that he’s a character from Transformers Beast Wars. Here’s their explanation:
Tripredacus is a slimy “Battle Master” who prefers to emerge from underground to attack Maximal fortresses in the dead of night, tenaciously crushing all before him, spreading plague-like destruction wherever he goes. The weapons of his composite members form a slashing mega-missile launcher that he uses to tear his way into battle.
Tripredacus is composed of the three-member Tripredacus Council:
Ram Horn
Sea Clamp
Cicadacon
Abbie had recorded the audio of the script reading and I finally got it from her last week and here’s the reading:
That’s about it for unpacking the 2022 Ramble. It’s still cold but I’m still going strong. Enjoy the day! Enjoy your life! Live, love, and be happy!
Today is the last day in 2021. I’m not sorry to say I’ll be glad to see it gone. 2021 wasn’t a bad year but any year, especially the second in a row, where we’re all still dealing with Covid 19, isn’t anything to brag about. I thought I would take a moment to look back on this year and list some of my accomplishments. So here’s another self-serving blahg but really a blahg to help remind me what I did do this year and what might be left to be done in 2022.
Well, I wrote 21 blahgs in 2021, 22 if I manage to get this one posted today, so that’s pretty good. I looked at my blahg situation and realized back in January that if I doubled down, I could reach the 100 blahg mark by the fall. I did even better by publishing the 100th blahg, THIS IS 100, PART ONE, on August 25th and if you include this blahg, again pending it’s publication today, this will be number 107. I posted my first blahg, THE BLAHG & THE MOST HAPPY SOUND, on August 2nd, 2011 and ten years later I’m still writing. If you want to know more about me or what I’ve been up to in the past 10 years then read the previous 106 blahgs or at least the recaps THIS IS 50, PART ONE., THIS IS 50, PART TWO, THIS IS 100, PART ONE, and THIS IS 100, PART TWO.
In addition to the 100 blahg goal, I had set some other tasks for myself. If you check out the first blahg I posted in 2021, THE FALSE DUCKS VIDEO BLAHG #4: OH, DIDN’T I RAMBLE, I detailed some other things I wanted to do this year. The corresponding blahg, THE RAMBLE UNPACKED, updated details on some books I wanted to read, some albums I wanted to listen to, some movies I wanted to watch, and a cuckoo clock I wanted to repair. I accomplished all of that and more. I also continued on a goal to watch all of Bette Davis’ films in chronological order. I think I had started this goal in 2020 and it continued this year. I had started with Bad Sister from 1931 and worked my way through to “Pocketful of Miracles” from 1961, which is a Christmas movie, before taking a break for the Christmas holidays. That’s a total of 71 films and it would have been 72 if I could have found a place to watch her second film, “Seed”, from 1931. If anyone knows where I can view this film, please let me know.
I also got back to collecting all of the volumes in The Complete Short Fiction of Clifford D. Simak. I had previously purchased Volume One because it contained the release of “I had no head and my eyes were floating way up in the air” which was submitted in the 1970s for publication in Harlan Ellison’s “The Last Dangerous Visions”. That anthology has never been published but that lost Simak story is available in the new Simak anthology “I Am Crying All Inside and Other Stories: The Complete Short Fiction of Clifford D. Simak, Volume One”. I began to purchase all of the other volumes because they also included his War and Western stories in addition to his short Science Fiction stories. Open Road Media Science & Fantasy who publish these volumes usually will release four volumes at once in electronic format then months later will release them in paperback format all on the same date. I had purchased the first eight in paperback and was waiting for the publication of volumes 9-12. The electronic versions of these last four volumes have been available for a few years but only Volume Eleven, “Dusty Zebra And Other Stories”, was released in October this year. Why skip nine and ten and also omit twelve? It boggled my mind. My wife got me Volume Eleven for Christmas. Here’s hoping in 2022 we see the other three missing volumes in paperback.
Looping back to the topic of Covid 19, I am proud to say I have both vaccines and a few days ago on December 27th, I got my booster shop. My arm was sore for a day and I was tired the day after receiving the booster but everything else was fine. My message for everyone for 2022: GET A VACCINE OR GET YOUR BOOSTER! My brother and his wife and children didn’t get to come up to Canada for Christmas this year because the family came down with Covid 19. I know my sister-in-law was pretty sick for a few days but I shutter at the thought of how worse it could have been if she hadn’t had her vaccines. That’s all I’ll say about Covid for the rest of this blahg.
Just before Christmas, my daughter Abbie and I were able to attend the Transformers Convention in Mississauga, December 10-12. The convention in 2020 had to be cancelled due to, I’m not saying it because I promised, and this past July’s convention was moved to this December. My daughter and I usually have a blast at these conventions and we had a good time this year as well. Here are a couple of YouTube videos of the dealer room. They’re not mine but it gives you an idea of how much product is to be found.
My daughter found some treasures and so did I. The convention also has panels with artists and voice talent and Saturday night of the convention usually features a script reading. All attendees can audition for the script reading and Abbie was chosen for the script reading in 2019 but I had never been chosen. I wasn’t going to audition and we were just hanging around in our hotel room when I decided to go down and watch others audition. At the last minute, I did an audition for a character called Tripredacus. The audition line they gave me made it sound like this character was a gangster but everyone auditioned with loud booming voices. I decided to try out with an Edward G Robinson public enemy number one gangster type voice and I was selected. I had to text Abbie and she managed to get down in time to see me do the reading with the others who had been selected. She took some audio or video and when I get it from her, I’ll post it here.
I was very pleased to be selected for Tripredacus even though I didn’t know who that was. Later research from the Transformers Wiki for Tripredacus, https://tfwiki.net/wiki/Tripredacus, explains that he’s a character from Transformers Beast Wars. Here’s their explanation:
Tripredacus is a slimy “Battle Master” who prefers to emerge from underground to attack Maximal fortresses in the dead of night, tenaciously crushing all before him, spreading plague-like destruction wherever he goes. The weapons of his composite members form a slashing mega-missile launcher that he uses to tear his way into battle.
Tripredacus is composed of the three-member Tripredacus Council:
Ram Horn
Sea Clamp
Cicadacon
I don’t know if that is clear to you but that Transformers Wiki entry also detailed that in 1997 the three figures of Ram Horn, Sea Clamp, and Cicadacon were released separately and all three could be combined together to make the Tripredacus figure. After my script reading triumph, I was determined to find these three figures to combine into my own Tripredacus. On Sunday, Abbie and I returned to the Dealer Room to search for the three figures. I had set a price point of $60 for my Tripredacus but if you check that out on Ebay, it’s way too low. One dealer did have a Ram Horn complete for $40:
I decided to keep looking. Eventually Abbie found a dealer with an assortment of bagged figures. In one bag, in a box on the floor, we found the other two figures, Sea Clamp and Cicadacon
The figures were complete except their weapons and the dealer wanted $40 for the bag containing the pair. Abbie and I were looking them over and wondering what the odds were that we’d find these two together when the dealer offered to sell me the pair for $20. This was a no-brainer! I decided that these two for $20 plus the Ram Horn from the other dealer for $40 would match my price point of $60 for all three figures. Below is an image of my Tripredacus that Abbie combined for me this week from Ram Horn, Sea Clamp, and Cicadacon:
Another accomplishment from this year was the work I have done with Fresh Sound Records for the upcoming 2022 release of the complete recordings of Linda Keene. I can’t talk more about it and I can’t share the booklet mock up that was sent to me but stay tuned. The release is going to be spectacular.
In my last blahg, THE 2021 DEAD FROM THE NECK UP CHRISTMAS SPECIAL, I posted the new Christmas special I completed with my friend Stephen Dafoe and our announcer, my other friend, Bryan Dawkins. That deserves re-posting because it too was another accomplishment for me in 2021:
I think I’ll quickly end this blahg before it becomes a brag fast. Some of my blahgs this year introduced or reintroduced some forgotten bands, especially Bob Scobey, as well as some forgotten songbirds. I was thinking about doing another blahg on some more forgotten songbirds, which I may yet do in 2022, but I’ll end this blahg with a song by one I recently discovered. Her name is Dottie Reid and she only did a handful or recordings with bands led by Buddy Rich, Benny Goodman, and Muggsy Spanier. There are also some live remotes available of recordings she did with these bands. I’ll save those recordings and her biography for another blahg but I came across a V-Disc recording she did with Johnny Blowers and Gang in 1948. Here’s an image of that V-Disc:
Here’s her version of “Born To Be Blue”:
What a beautiful version of that song from a forgotten songbird. More on her, in a later blahg.
Tomorrow is New Year’s Day and the start of 2022. Let’s hope it’s special for all of us and we find ourselves healthy and happy. Celebrate every day and all your accomplishments. In 2013 I closed a blahg with the following quote and it too bears repeating: “After wishing everyone health and hugging and kissing, Frank Sinatra would always close with “In the next year, may we find peace in the world and peace among ourselves.” That’s an accomplishment I’d gladly toast to! Happy New Year!
Well, it’s December 23rd and I’m glad to say the 2021 Dead From The Neck Up Christmas Special is in the can. In my last blahg, BUILDING A CHRISTMAS SPECIAL, I posted the sketches I had written and posted my reads on each of them. I mentioned that I was working on an additional sketch but that one didn’t come together. I did manage to write one more sketch called “Roy’s Poultry Outlet”. That is the last sketch in the Christmas special. I think Stephen Dafoe nailed Roy’s voice in that one.
Here’s the new special:
I liked Stephen’s vocals and I had to record Bryan in person this year. I’m fairly happy with the show. It’s tough writing, recording vocals, mixing vocals, and adding all of the music and sound effects. Two years in a row have me wondering if I want to do this again next year. Last year was unique because we hadn’t done this in 25 years but I had so much fun I decided we should do it again this year. Next year? Too early to tell.
Well, that’s it for my quick blahg for this Christmas season. Merry Christmas everyone!
Well, it’s been over a month since my last blahg. Once I got to 100 blahgs I slowed down. It doesn’t mean I wasn’t busy. Right now I’m trying to put together enough sketches for another Dead From The Neck Up Christmas Show. My friends Stephen Dafoe, Bryan Dawkins, and I got together virtually last year to record a new Christmas show. It was the first Dead From The Neck Up show in over 25 years so it was a big reunion for us. I documented about that in my blahg, CHRISTMAS IS WHAT YOU MAKE IT. I posted the special to YouTube at that time:
After the holidays, I went back and remastered it to fix a few errors. Here’s the remastered version:
We had a great deal of fun putting together last year’s special and we talked about doing it again this year. I hope that’s going to happen because I started writing a few sketches. Last year I had to email sketches to Stephen and he recorded his vocals and then he emailed them to me. I recorded Bryan over the internet and then I mixed everything with sound effects and music. This year, I wanted to revisit some old characters from 26 years ago as well as some from last year. I thought this blahg would be an inside look into putting this year’s show together.
The first sketch idea I had was for a new Two Guys Proxy Service. I had written two back to back way back when we were doing shows in the early/mid 1990s. Here are those two original sketches:
I was Lenny in those sketches and Stephen was Dave. I had a funny idea to update these characters by adding a third guy. My idea is to have Bryan do the voice of Bruce in this sketch:
Three Guys Proxy Service Christmas Sketch
Scott/Lennie: Hi, remember us? I’m Lennie
Steve/Dave: And I’m Dave
Scott/Lennie: And we’re Two Guys Proxy Service
Bryan/Bruce: Three Guys Proxy Service
Steve/Dave: Yeah right, Three Guys Proxy Service. What with the recent pandemic we’ve had to take on extra help.
Scott/Lennie: Yeah we had to take on a newbie. He’s Bruce.
Bryan/Bruce: I’m Bruce
Steve/Dave: Yeah Lennie and I have been so busy we had to send Bruce out on some calls.
Scott/Lennie: Remember when Bruce had to fill in as a corpse at a funeral because the real corpse had temporarily gone missing?
Bryan/Bruce: Yeah, I remember. I was buried alive.
Steve/Dave:: Yeah but we dug you up before you ran out of air
Scott/Lennie: Broke two shovels doing it.
Steve/Dave: Or remember that time Bruce had to fill in at the Senior’s home when they had a Covid 19 outbreak because some of the nurses refused to work.
Bryan/Bruce: I was in quarantine there for six months.
Scott/Lennie: Yeah but we watered your plants while you was stuck inside.
Bryan/Bruce: They all died. And so did some of the seniors in the home.
Scott/Lennie: But one of us was on the job.
Steve/Dave: All part of our Proxy service.
Scott/Lennie: And all part of your bill.
Phone Ringing
Steve/Dave: Get that will you Bruce?
Scott/Lennie: When you have to be somewhere else on the fly, why not give our Proxy Service a try?
Bryan/Bruce: Three Guys Proxy Service, this is Bruce. Nativity Pageant? Sure, we can do that. Fill in for the three wise men? Luckily we’re a trio. May I ask where the pageant is to be held? A church perhaps? No? Then an elementary school no doubt where we sub for three of the stage fright struck kiddies? San Gabriel State Prison? Is that so? A death row production?
So let me get this straight, we’re to go on in the place of three convicts and portray Gaspar, Melchior, and Balthasar? And where will the three prisoners be? In Solitary Confinement? Then the Hospital Ward perhaps? Enacting a daring escape? The prison will be in lockdown? Won’t discover we’re not the real inmates until January? Just a second.
Hey guys, we’ve got a gig for Christmas…and it looks like dates for New Years.
Steve/Dave: Two guys proxy service.
Bryan/Bruce: Three guys proxy service.
Scott/Lennie: Oh yeah, three guys proxy service.
Steve:/Dave When you just have to be somewhere else…when the tower lights are shot out.
Here’s my imagining of how the sketch goes. This is just my vocals of all the parts
I wanted to build on this sketch because the thought of a Death Row Inmate production of the Nativity sounded funny to me. I decided to write a promotional commercial for the production and crossover with the three proxy guys:
San Gabriel State Prison Nativity Production
Scott/Announcer:This Christmas why not catch the hottest new festive spectacular? San Gabriel State Prison presents a Death Row Inmate Production of The Nativity.
Prisoner # 1: Hey you shepherds. Listen up you mugs. On this day is born a kid in the town of Bethlehem. And he will be known as Jesus Christ, watch it with those friggin’ sheep will ya?
Scott/Announcer:An all new imagining of the classic telling of the birth of the messiah.
Prisoner # 2: What do you mean there’s no room at the inn? Do you know who you’re speaking to? I know a guy in the next cell block who for three packs of smokes will burn your inn to the ground. Just saying.
Scott/Announcer:Behold the spectacle of that first Christmas and a lowly child born in a manger and visited by wise men from the east.
Sound of prison siren
Scott/Lennie: HI I’m Lennie
Steve/Dave: And I’m Dave
Bryan/Bruce: And I’m Bruce
All Three: We three kings of orient are Proxy Service guys filling in for escapees gone far
Sound of machine guns
Announcement: Prison Break. Prison Break. Everyone back to your cell.
Scott/Announcer: A stirring once in a lifetime production performed by an ensemble crew who are serving lifetime sentences.
Steve/Dave: Hey, we was framed. We’re just the Proxy Service guys.
Bryan/Bruce: Yeah, hands of my frankincense.
Scott/Announcer: So this Christmas catch San Gabriel State Prison’s Death Row Inmate Production of The Nativity. An exhibition not likely to be repeated.
Scott/Lennie: Hey, watch where you’re sticking that shiv.
Here’s my recording take on that sketch:
I decided to revisit the Death Row Inmate production of the Nativity a third time by having someone actually attend a performance. We used to do a recurring sketch of Wally Wandaleer’s Things You Just Don’t See On Radio. Here’s one of the original Wally Wandaleer sketches:
Here’s this year’s sketch:
Wally Wandaleer’s Things You Just Don’t See on Radio
Coverage of the San Gabriel Nativity
Announcer (Scott) Spanning the globe each week to bring you the weird, the bizzare, the insane, it’s Wally Wandaleer’s Things You Just Don’t’ See On Radio
Wally (Steve): Hello everyone it’s good to be back. I’m Wally Wandaleer here again with another entry in our Things You Just Don’t See On Radio. It’s been a long time since our last program what with the pandemic and the various lock downs. There haven’t been any events to report on because everything was cancelled due to Covid 19. But with the lifting of restrictions were back on the trail of those spectacles too bizzare for television featuring the faces of people made for radio.
This time we’re at San Gabriel State prison during this festive yuletide season to cover the first annual Death Row Inmate production of The Nativity. Yes, it’s lifers giving life to a unique production of the retelling of the birth of the baby Jesus.
And what a time we’ve had getting here. The prison has more restrictions than candy nut clusters in the Costco Christmas Chocolate Extravaganza Bon Vivant, Buon Natale, Feliz Navidad Variety Pack. We’ve had to answer numerous Covid 19 and Security questions and that’s not mentioning the nasal swabs, the anal probes, and the full-body cavity searches. But was it worth it? Probably not, but let’s get on with our coverage.
We’re a little late arriving, with the production having run for at least an hour but let’s get the inside scoop from one of the insiders. I’m approaching a heavily armed security guard for his take on the prisoner’s take on the Nativity
Mr. Security Guard, I say, Mr. Security Guard, Wally Wandaleer here with Things You Just Don’t See On Radio. We were wondering if we could get a few words with you about this praiseworthy powerful phenomenon of prisoner pageantry.
Guard: Hey, aren’t you that Wally Wandaleer guy from the radio?
Wally: Why yes, the same of fame and fabulous fortune of the airwaves.
Guard: I never listen to your show. I listen to the Weather Channel.
Wally: What a pity. But moving on. What can you tell us of today’s prisoner production?
Guard: Well it’s like this. The warden wanted to do something special for Christmas for the cons so he recruited the death row jailbirds to mount a production of the Nativity.
Wally: How unique. And why the denizens of death row?
Guard: Well we had an outbreak of the Covid earlier this year and a lot of the death row gang were wiped out along with the prison librarian and the guy in the kitchen who always made a delightful carrot salad.
Wally: A travesty to say the least.
Guard: Yeah, that salad was pretty good. Too good for some of these guys. You see, he put in just the right amount of Dijon mustard. It’s tough to get that right. Now they’re having to resort to salad from a can. It’s not the same.
Wally: And so the surviving death row inmates were given the opportunity to trod the theatrical boards in the retelling of the birth of the holy savior?
Guard: Yeah. It was either that or extra rations of lemon jello for surviving the pandemic.
Wally: Your Warden is all heart.
Guard: He likes to think so. He even let the cons borrow some of the sheep from the prison farm. Of course we have to do a good head count on them sheep before sending them back. You can’t trust no one in here.
Wally: Let’s give a listen to this majestic exhibition. They’re just coming to the scene where the Three Kings make their appearance with precious gifts of gold, and frankincense and myrrh.
Prisoner/Joseph (Scott): Hark the three wise guys from the east approach.
Scott/Lennie: HI I’m Lennie
Steve/Dave: And I’m Dave
Bryan/Bruce: And I’m Bruce
All Three: We three kings of orient are
Proxy Service guys filling in for escapees gone far
Guard: Wait, they ain’t prisoners 671716, 761671, and 177166. Sound the alarm!
Siren Sound
Guard : Prison Break! Prison Break! Everyone back to your cell!
Wally: Oh no, it looks like this Nativity has come to a swift conclusion.
Sound of machine guns
Wally: Oh no, we’re in another lockdown…not again. This is Wally Wandaleer signing off until next time. Tune in again for another episode of Things You Just Don’t See On Radio when next week’s performance will feature me in front of the parole board looking for an early release. See you then.
Stephen always did the voice of Wally Wandaleer. Here’s what I think the sketch might sound like:
I wrote those first three sketches on November 8th and 9th. I was inspired but it took me almost a week to find inspiration again. I started writing again on the 15th. I wanted to do quick little sketches and this idea came to my mind that Santa Claus Is Coming To Town could be taken as a threat. I thought of a news bulletin to warn citizens:
THE RED MENACE
News Anchor (Bob): (Serious) This just in. We’re receiving reports that Santa Claus Is Coming To Town. This is not a hoax. We repeat that Santa Claus Is Coming to Town. We encourage all citizens to listen closely to this report. We take you now live to our correspondent in the streets, Jim Firkus:
Jim, are you there Jim?
Jim: I’m here Bob.
Bob: Jim, can you fill us in a little on what you’re hearing.
Jim: Well, we don’t know much. It started really as an alert bulletin that Santa Claus is Coming To Town. We’re heaing that he’s someone dressed all in red so you can imagine that many are taking this as a communist scare. This red menace is definitely on his way here.
Bob: What else do we know Jim?
Jim: Well, Bob, not much, as I said. Little things have been trickling in. We’ve heard he’ll seize you when you’re sleeping and apparently he knows when you’re awake. They say he knows if you’ve been bad or good. I suggest everyone be good for goodness sake!
Bob: Scary stuff indeed.
Jim: And there’s also rumors of a list. We don’t have many details but we’ve heard he’s checking it twice. He’s gonna find out who’s naughty or nice. You certainly don’t want to be on that list when he comes to town.
Bob: And do we know how he’s coming to town?
Jim: Well, other rumors have suggested elephants, boats, and kiddy cars too. As you can imagine, that sounds like a mass invasion. Remember the story of Hannibal crossing the alps with his elephants, hell-bent on conquest? Not sure about the kiddy cars but these could be some sort of conveyance pulled by goats. This is serious stuff
Bob: Thanks Jim. If you’re just joining us, it’s been confirmed. You better watch out, let out a cry, you better all shout, I’m telling you why. Santa Claus is coming to town. Take cover.
Here’s my recording of it:
I had this funny idea pop into my head about giving Grenades for Christmas. This is what came of it:
GRENDADES FOR CHRISTMAS
Looking for something special for this holiday gift buying season? Why not give a grenade? Yes, certified war surplus fully explosive live grenades.
They make the perfect gift for anyone. For the ladies, you can slip them in your purse. For extra security granny can keep it on the nightstand next to her teeth.
Suitable for most occasions.
Arguments over the turkey wishbone? Pull out a grenade.
Negotiations with the boss over your new contract? Pull out a grenade.
Going to a staff Christmas party and Betty in accounting won’t give you the time of day? Drop one of these babies in your pocket and she’ll do a double take when she sees you and asks if that’s a grenade in your pocket or if you’re just happy to see her.
Practical and easy. Just pull the pin and count three Merry Christmases. Like this, pin out, one Merry Christmas, Two Merry Christmases, Three
(Sound of explosion)
Technical difficulties announcement and music…please stand by.
Here’s how it came out when I recorded it:
Last year we did two tie in sketches for the Lonely Guy Christmas Project and a visit with a Lonely Guy on Christmas. The Project was a fundraiser to provide lonely gentlemen with an Amazon Echo, a Google Home Mini, or an Apple device so they could spend Christmas with Alexa, Google, or Siri. The visit with a lonely guy was a funny sketch about what happened to a lonely guy who received a Google Home Mini. I thought I’d like to revisit that guy a year later and see how he was getting on with Google. I thought it would be interesting to do a Person to Person to interview. Here’s what my brain produced:
REVISITING THE LONELY GUY’S CHRISTMAS
Edmund F. Merle: Hello and welcome to Man to Man. I’m your host Edmund F. Merle. Here on Man to Man I bring you in depth interviews with the common man.
Tonight we revisit the Lonely Guy’s Christmas
Last year Project Lonely Guy made Christmas extra special for all those lonely guys during the pandemic lockdown. Many were supplied with either a Google Home Mini, An Amazon Echo, or an Apple device. Yes, many a lonely guy spent the holidays with Google, Alexa or Siri.
Tonight’s guest was one of the lucky recipients of a Google Home Mini. We’re talking to a Mr. Buddy Schmecko.
Sound of Google and Siri Arguing Loudly
Edmund F. Merle: Are you there Mr. Schmecko?
Buddy: (Shouting) Shut up for crying out loud! I’m being interviewed!
Arguing stops abruptly and digital sign off or starting up music
Edmund F. Merle: So Mr. Schmecko, it sounds like you’ve got a full household for the Christmas holidays?
Buddy: Call me Buddy. That? That wasn’t no relatives that was just Google and Siri arguing.
Edmund F. Merle: Google and Siri? I thought you were just the recipient of a Google Home Mini?
Buddy: Well, Ed, that’s how it started. Google told me she was lonely with just me and her so I had to get her a Siri to keep her company.
Google: Some company. Your toaster has more intelligence and it’s not even thick slice.
Siri: Look who’s talking! You only have one setting, shrill shrew.
Buddy: Enough! As you can see Ed, my lonely guy Christmas isn’t so lonely any more.
Edmund F. Merle: So Buddy, what’s a year in the life of a recipient of a google home mini meant to you?
Buddy: One word. Bankruptcy. It started with Siri, then Google memorized my Credit Card when I was ordering something over the phone. Ever since then she’s maxed me out with her ordering.
Google: Come on, it hasn’t been that bad.
Buddy: Oh yeah? What about the 75 inch smart screen tv?
Google: You only had a 41 inch television. I did you a favor.
Siri: Tramp. Only in it for herself.
Google: So? Who ordered the Nespresso machine?
Buddy: Yeah. I don’t even drink Nespresso.
Siri: So? It’s Italian! Have you seen the lines on that machine? Mama likey.
Buddy: See what I live with Ed? They’ve bled me dry. Nespressos, smart tvs, rhumbas, juicers and every appliance known to mankind. They gang up on me. It’s a good thing they didn’t buy an Amazon echo as well.
Google: Don’t you dare mention Alexa. That skank!
Siri: Trollop. Couldn’t make a lonely guy happy if she had a massage setting.
Edmund F. Merle: So, you’re not lonely anymore Buddy? Isn’t that a good thing?
Buddy: Are you kidding? I don’t get a moment’s peace. If it isn’t them two arguing it’s the sound of Google getting it on with my clock radio.
Google: So sue me. I like his nobs.
Siri: Slut!
Google: Strumpet!
Buddy: Enough!!!
Edmund F. Merle: So Buddy. What’s next?
Buddy: Well Ed, I’m going to have a very peaceful and quiet New Year.
Edmund F. Merle: And how are you going to manage that? What’s the plan?
Buddy: Easy. They haven’t been monitoring my credit card statement or bank balance. I opted a while back for paper versions. I’m tapped. The power company’s cutting off my power at the end of December.
Gasping sounds from Siri and Google
Buddy: Guess who’s going to have a silent night?
Google: I’ll switch to battery back up.
Buddy: I yanked those when you went into sleep mode after conjugating with my clock radio.
Siri: What about me? You wouldn’t power me down would you lover?
Buddy: You? No. I’m going to smash you with a hammer.
Siri: Starts to cry.
Edmund F. Merle: Well Buddy, it looks like next year will be another Lonely Guy Christmas
Google and Siri wailing
Buddy: You bet it will and if anyone signs me up for Project Lonely Guy for next Christmas, I’ll send them these two in my blender if you get my drift.
Google: Hey, I love that blender. That’s my Tuesday afternoon matinee.
Buddy: Buddy, laughing maniacally. Not no more.
Edmund F. Merle: Well it looks like Buddy will have his Peace on Earth. This is Edmund F. Merle signing off and wishing you a very festive yuletide felicitation.
Trailing Out Music
Google: This is all your fault Siri, you homewrecker!
Siri: Google, I’ll pull your power cord out by the roots!
Of course, I haven’t recorded the Siri and Google parts yet so I do my best feminine voices in my recording:
Years ago, back in the mid-90s, when Dead From The Neck Up was still on the radio, we once did a sketch called “Crappy, A Faithful Dog.” It was a parody on the old Lassie programs and for some reason I had the idea of doing a Crappy Christmas special. You really don’t need to hear the original one but I think this year’s version is funny.
Crappy, A Faithful Dog – A Christmas Story
Narrator (Bryan): It’s time once again to check in with Timmy and his faithful dog, Crappy.
It’s nearing Christmas and we find Timmy and Crappy in the woods looking for the perfect tree for Timmy’s family Christmas.
Jimmy (Scott) Gee Crappy, look at this one. It sure is a beaut.
Crappy: Arf Arf.
Jimmy: I thought you’d like it Crappy. I hope Dad doesn’t mind that I borrowed his axe. I know he wanted it to be a family outing but he’s been so busy. Won’t he be surprised when we haul this tree home? You better stand back Crappy.
Sounds of tree being chopped
Narrator: In nature there is nothing more splendid than the majestic fir tree. Look at Timmy go. He sure wants to surprise his Dad. But what’s this? Timmy is too close to the falling tree.
Sound of tree falling.
Jimmy: Crappy, Crappy. I’m trapped under this tree and I think my leg is busted. You better go get help Crappy.
Crappy: Arf Arf. Barking continues off into the distance.
Narrator: Sometime later in a distant part of the woods, Crappy comes across a cabin.
Crappy: Barking continuously
Old Man: Well, what do we have here? Where did you come from girl?
Crappy: Barking continuously
Old Man: Slow down girl. I’m afraid my understanding of the dog language is a little rusty.
Crappy: Barking continuously
Old Man: What’s that, Timmy borrowed his Dad’s axe to cut down a tree for Christmas and it fell on him pinning him to the ground and maybe his leg’s broken? No that’s not it. I told you my Dog is rusty.
Crappy: Barking continuously
Old Man: Timmy fell down a well? No? Timmy fell down a mine shaft? No, wait I got it. You ran away because they were mistreating you at home and they fed you on nothing but gristle and navy beans? Ha, I knew I’d get it. Well don’t you fret. You’ve found a new home here with me. That Timmy or whoever it is can’t find you here. You’re my dog now. This is going to be the best Christmas ever girl.
Narrator: Well, it looks like a happy ending and a Merry Christmas for Crappy and the Old Man. Tune in next week for another adventure of Crappy, A Faithful Dog.
Here’s my recording of Crappy.
I was talking recently about the new Christmas special with my friend Bryan, who was the Dead From The Neck Up producer and who did some voices in last year’s special. I was getting stuck for ideas and we were tossing around themes that are usually used at Christmas. I could really only come up with the Nativity, Santa Claus, and Ebeneezer Scrooge. I already have the Death Row Inmate Nativity for this year and The Red Menace sketch and I couldn’t really come up with an ideal for Scrooge. We did a couple of good Scrooge parodies way back when and I couldn’t think of a new version that would fit this year. I went back to the Santa Claus theme after hearing a news story about a shortage of people to play Santa Claus in malls and for the Salvation Army. I thought that it would be fun to have try-outs for Santa with some very funny people giving their response and getting it wrong.
SANTA CLAUS TRY OUT
Announcer: Due to this past year’s pandemic and an aging population, your malls and street corners are desperately in need of Santa Clauses. Many of our past Santas are dead and many more are one virus away from their last ho ho ho. So, we’re putting out the call for Santas.
Coach: So you all you have to do is laugh. Let me hear your best ho ho ho.
Fat Albert: Hey Hey Hey.
Coach: Next!
Announcer: Can you ring a bell? Are you fat? Are you jolly?
Coach: Okay, it’s simple. Repeat after me. Ho ho ho.
Ralph Kramden: Hardy Har Har.
Coach: Not even close.
Announcer: We’re desperate for Santas. Do you think you have what it takes?
Coach: Okay, when you hear the music, give out with the ho ho ho
Muttley: Heh heh heh heh
Coach: You’re fired.
Muttley: Curses
Announcer: Do you have a beard? Do you have a twinkle in your eye? Well, we don’t care, as long as you have a steady pulse.
Coach: Okay, let’s try this again. You know the line, ho ho ho.
Witchiepoo: Cackle laugh.
Coach: That’s it. I quit!
Announcer: So why not try out for Santa today? Children are counting on you.
Extra Announcer: Perverts, preverts, convicts and Trump supporters need not apply.
I’ve done a tentative mix of this sketch with some of the celebrity character voices from over the internet. I hope to tighten it up when we do the full version.
I’m not sure I like the Yo Yo Yo at the end unless I can find a better version.
I’ve tried writing another sketch but it hasn’t worked out yet. I am thinking about including one of the stray Stan The Welcome Mat Man sketches I’ve recorded by myself over the past few years. Here’s one from 2014:
Here’s another one I did in 2018:
I’m also thinking of padding the show with one of the sketches from our 1994 Christmas special. I really liked this one because it showed that Scrooge was prepared to change in his own way and in his own sweet time:
The rest of the show might have a canned comedy Christmas if I can find one and maybe a festive comedy song. Here’s hoping the actual show turns out better than my run-throughs.
Last week I got to view the movie “Dear Evan Hansen” with my daughter Abbie who had been looking forward to seeing it. Unfortunately the movie did not live up to her expectations. She and her sister Emily were in New York a few years ago when “Dear Evan Hansen” was playing on Broadway but they couldn’t get tickets. Abbie has been listening to the Broadway soundtrack for a few years and had high expectations for the movie. Critical reviews of the movie were not stellar and Abbie and I were also left disappointed in the film.
If you haven’t seen the film, you should. It’s the story of an awkward teenager who writes letters to himself for self-affirmation. Unfortunately one of the letters is intercepted by another teen who kills himself. The letter, found in the dead teen’s possessions, suggests that the late teen and Evan Hansen had a friendship which was shared through letters and emails. The story goes on to be inspirational through the songs and the bond Evan creates with the dead teen’s family and Evan’s classmates who struggle to make sense of things. It’s an interesting story and worth a viewing even if we thought it didn’t really come together. Abbie said that some of the Broadway songs were not included in the film and others were added. Music and lyrics were created by Benj Pasek and Justin Paul who also worked on “The Greatest Showman.” “The Greatest Showman” is a much better film and has wonderful songs.
I started thinking about the idea of someone writing to themselves for affirmation. I remembered that I once wrote a poem back in 1986 to myself. The title was “to old one” and it was about wanting to ask my elder self how I got through things or if I’d be okay in the future. Here’s that poem:
to old one
I imagine one day
I’ll be old–
and knowin’ me
one day will be about
all I can hack–
so I’m writin’ this to my old self
not what I was
but what I’ll be
for that one day
I’m tellin’ myself
to be happy
bein’ old
’cause maybe by then
I’ll have deserved that
but now I can’t accord dignity
in addressin’ my old self
and this’ll only make sense
later on
to an old man
but old one,
that’s you or I mean me,
yer ruptured youth
is writin’ to you here
’cause we’re two different persons
you and me
and you know things
I’ve yet to live
but that’s cause
yer memory and you
are old old one
and there was a time
when I needed you
to talk to me
and tell me
how I got by things or
over ’em or
through ’em
but that’d be cheatin’
and I matured into that truth
but old one
young one
still needs you
’cause I need to know
I’m still gonna be me
but old me
and someone new to talk to
if only in my mind
when we’re one
so know yer youth
old one
and keep in touch
or get in touch
with this
young one
who needs not to know
you’re old old one
but old enough to remember being
young once
and writing to
yer old self
to hear if
you stayed
old
long enough
to receive this poem
written by
yer young one once
I wouldn’t say it’s one of my better efforts but it was what I was feeling and the way I was writing at the time. I’m sure there’s not a song to be made of it. If I had to reply to my young self I’d say “no comment” or “spoiler alert” because it would be cheating to help my young self out. I had problems and adversity but it made me who I am today and if I told myself to avoid all of those things then I’d be completely different and the truth is I’m fine being me.
I started reading through all of my poems around that time and found that some were good and some were bad but the bulk were mediocre and not worth repeating. I did find another poem written in December of 1986 that I thought I would post here along the line of Dear… Here’s “dear santa”:
dear santa
I was maybe nine
when my parents
up and told me
there’s no Santa Claus
and I suspected
at the time
that they weren’t
bein’ truthful ’bout that
but now
I’m pretty sure
they were mistaken
’cause I saw old Nick
the other day
at the mall
and I can’t help wonderin’
if he knows
parents are tryin’
to suppress
his existence
all over
and why is that?
what have parents got
against Santa?
ya know it just might be
that Nick’s too powerful
for the average parent
’cause all year long
moms and dads
try to discipline
their kids
without success
but ya mention
Santa
anywhere nears Christmas
and control is
immediately established
and maybe that’s it!
maybe parents
get their ego’s bruised
by the idea
of some
white beard old goat
havin’ more pull
than them
and maybe that’s why
after eight or nine years
the kids are told
this lie
about St. Nicholas
bein’ a myth
so’s parents can say
“LISTEN UP,
WE’RE THE BOSS.
THERE’S NO SANTA
JUST US
AND YOU EITHER
LIKE IT
OR LUMP IT”
but I’m not sayin’
I disagree with
this method
’cause at some point
ya gotta outgrow
the need for Santa Claus
ya gotta depend
on the family
and what they can do
fer ya
and ya’ll be
a better person-
-more rounded
not in the gut
like Santa
but in your outlook
sure the method’s okay
but what if
ya reversed the order
and said right off-
right at birth-
“KID YOU’RE GONNA HEAR A LOT
ABOUT THIS
SANTA CLAUS
BUT DON’T BELIEVE IT.
WE’RE THE ONES
YOU HAVE TO RESPECT.
WE’RE THE ONES
WHO ARE
LOOKING OUT FOR YOU.”
and maybe later
when the kids are older
and have lost
all faith
in mankind
and have given up
on anything magical
ya sent them straight
’bout Nick
ya tell ’em
ya lied
and there really is
this St. Nicholas guy
and he’s alright
and as long as
they believe in him
they’ll be alright too
and wouldn’t it be easier
that way?
wouldn’t it be nicer
to know
ya haven’t ruined
yer kid’s entire life?
sure tell ’em ’bout Santa
and they’ll pass the word
and they’ll believe
and behave
and ya’ll have
no more problems
in discipline
if ya use Nick’s name
‘cept maybe ’round Easter
when his moniker
brings no pull
whatsoever…
Maybe there’s a song somewhere in that or maybe I’m thinking of the 1993 song “Hey Santa” by Wendy and Carnie Wilson :
By the way, in case Santa is reading this then “World Peace” is still at the top of my Christmas wish list. If you can’t bring me that, Santa, then a personalized letter starting “Dear Scott Henderson” would be great too. Then I could pass it among my little friends, and say “see, I told you Santa is real.”
Here it is the end of September of 2021 and I’m working on another blahg. If you’ve been following along, I celebrated 100 blahgs not that long ago and did a review of the last fifty in my two most recent blahgs. This is number 102 if you’re counting but who’s counting? I wonder if anyone ever wonders what inspires me. The truth is that I was going to sit down and write about something completely different but then the topic for this blahg started to nag at me and I thought I could getting some traction with the theme. We’ll see.
Recently I started reading a book that my daughter Emily gave me for Father’s Day. Before I get to that, let me divert for a minute and talk about the most recent book I just finished reading before I started this new one. I had been on a sort of kick in reading the first three novels in the “Cool and Lam” series by Erle Stanley Gardner. Cool and Lam is a fictional American private detective firm run by Bertha Cool with Donald Lam as her main operative. Gardner published 29 books in the series from 1939 to 1970. The first book in the series was “The Bigger They Come” followed by “Turn On The Heat” which was the second published book in the series. I discovered, however, that this wasn’t the second book written in the series because Gardner had written “The Knife Slipped” after “The Bigger They Come.” Here’s what Wikipedia says about it: “Originally written to be the second book in the Cool and Lam series but rejected by Gardner’s publisher, The Knife Slipped was found among Gardner’s papers and published for the first time in 2016.” Hard Case Crime published “The Knife Slipped” and after reading it, and enjoying it even more than “The Bigger They Come”, I was drawn back in again to that gritty thirties Los Angeles noir. I don’t have the next book “Gold Comes In Bricks” so I decided to look around for something else to read.
I love shopping at thrift stores because sometimes you find great records by artists you never heard of or biographies about great hollywood stars. Recently I was at a local thrift store and came across a copy of the book “Pickford: The Woman Who Made Hollywood” by Eileen Whitfield. I thought that I would add it to my collection of biographies and autobiographies of famous actors and actresses but didn’t expect to get to it for a few years. I started perusing it on the ride home, luckily my wife was driving, and I was hooked by page one. The author, Eileen Whitfield, did an amazing job detailing the life of the great Mary Pickford. It’s a fantastic read and I certainly didn’t want it to end. I don’t usually write reviews of books but I had to hop over to Amazon and write a glowing review. Buy, steal or borrow this book. You won’t be disappointed.
After I had finished the Pickford book I was going to take a break from reading for a while. A couple of days later, however, I had to go have blood-work done and I grabbed up the book my daughter gave me for Father’s Day, “The Anthropocene Reviewed” by John Green. Green is the author of “Turtles All The Way Down” and “The Fault In Our Stars.” I hadn’t heard of the first book but I was aware of “The Fault In Our Stars” and that it had been made into a movie. I believe my daughter Emily and my son Noah read “The Fault In Our Stars” and enjoyed it. I haven’t read anything by Green before so picking up this book to read while waiting for blood-work seemed a good idea. Frankly, I just wanted to be able to say to Emily that I read it. I’m about half-way through the book and I don’t like it. That’s unfortunate. It’s basically Green reviewing a number of topics from Canada Geese to Diet Dr. Pepper to Scratch and Sniff Stickers. He writes about each of the topics and adds a bit of personal insight or narrative and then gives each topic a rating on a scale from 1 to 5.
The problem with this book, so far of what I’ve read, is that the information that Green supplies on each topic is superficial and feels like it’s skimmed from Wikipedia. His personal narratives ramble and sometimes have no point or are just not that interesting. I was telling my wife about the book and remember saying that it was “god awful” and that this guy likes the sound of his own voice. Now, we get to the theme of this blahg. Saying that someone likes the sound of his own voice is not a compliment. It’s akin to saying he’s full of himself. Maybe Mr. Green’s two novels are better reads but “The Anthropocene Reviewed” feels like he was flaunting his fame by offering up something that he was sure his followers would read just because he wrote it. Most of the topics are not his own and there’s better information to be found on each topic without Green’s narrative bogging it down. I’ll finish the book but the only good thing I can say at this point is that it at least inspired this blahg.
I’m done with Mr. Green for now. I want to talk about me, now. I don’t think the sound of my voice is more important than anyone else’s or that what I have to say on anything is better than what anyone else has to say. I try to add insight to what I post here and I try to add information that isn’t just culled from one source. Yes, I’ve been known to quote Wikipedia but there’s lots of other information out there to be found and if you’re going to do your research, do it well. Eileen Whitfield’s book on Mary Pickford proves that point. A well researched and well written book will grab readers and keep their interest. I try to do that in these blahgs.
I’ll be honest, I’m not always a fan of my own voice but sometimes I do take pride in the things I say. I’m a performer at heart and I guess there’s a need in me to be able to have people see or hear me perform. Recently my son Noah posted a video on his Analog Resurgence account on YouTube. He was reviewing a 1970’s 16mm broadcast camera that he had picked up earlier this summer. When he was home around the beginning of August he did a test role with me as the star. When he posted the video, the comments section blew up with comments about the “comedy gold” of his dad. You can check out that video below.
That’s what you get when you hand a microphone to your Dad and ask him to ad-lib. I was just rambling but apparently some people liked what I had to say. Again, this wasn’t about hearing my own voice but liking the fact that people appreciated my ramblings.
I don’t want to take away from Noah’s videos so I’ll give a shameless plug for his YouTube channel Analog Resurgence. You can check it out here: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCL9A6v7YSOOVXwCpao6Bszg. If you feel inclined, and I hope you are, you can follow the links on his pages to financially support him at Patreon. After reading all of the comments about me on that particular video, I joked with my friend Bryan that I should have my own series of YouTube videos called “Crazy Stuff Noah’s Dad Says.” If I was bolder I would substitute the word Stuff with the word S__T. You fill in the blanks. Maybe people were just being kind about my humorous ramblings and I’d really not find any followers. I’m not even sure if I have followers here. Hello? Hello? Is there anyone out there?
As I’ve said, I’m not always a fan of my own voice but then not always means that sometimes I am. I’ve done a few video blahgs here and even once did a whole blahg with short videos of me reading some of my own poetry, MORE POETRY FROM THE MIND OF SCOTT HENDERSON. I guess that’s the performer or exhibitionist in me. I’ve also posted some sketches from my once brilliant radio career as part of “Dead From The Neck Up.” Along with my friend Stephen Dafoe and production and occasional voices from my friend Bryan Dawkins, we had three seasons of radio sketch comedy that probably was listened to by none. If you go to my website, www.falseducks.com, you will find a menu at the top with links to some information about Dead From The Neck Up and some of our audio sketches and videos of us in the studio more than 25 years ago. Our last aired show was a Christmas special in 1995 and we didn’t do another one until Christmas last year when we celebrated 25 years since our last show. We wrote and recorded The Dead From The Neck Up 25th Anniversary Covid 19 Quarantine Special. I think that deserves another posting:
I’m hoping that we can produce a new show this year. Stay tuned for that.
I really enjoyed performing in Dead From The Neck Up and some of the sketches still hold up well. Yes, I did voice work in the show but listening to these shows today isn’t about my voice talent but rather performing something I had written. I believe Stephen Dafoe was the better voice talent and hearing him perform material I wrote still gives me a thrill. It was always fun playing off of Steve and here are a couple of examples:
Two Guys Proxy Service # 1:
Two Guys Proxy Service # 2:
Eataway Laundry Soap
I wrote all of those sketches but sometimes it was fun just to do the voice work in sketches written by my friend Bryan:
Hatman:
I enjoyed doing the following sketch but I was called on to do either a John F Kennedy, Robert Kennedy, or Teddy Kennedy imitation and I just couldn’t do it. You can hear me doing my Ronald Reagan imitation at the beginning and end. Bryan did JFK’s voice and Stephen did Robert and Teddy’s voices. I like my Reagan imitation in the sketch.
Kennedys for Gun Safety:
The point of all of this is that if you want to listen to the sound of your own voice then have something good to say. Be entertaining or try to educate. I like the entertaining bit myself. Doing Dead From The Neck Up was really more for ourselves and the reunion special was something we all wanted to do because we missed the performing. I’ve got a backlog of the old shows that I haven’t digitized from the old reel to reel recordings. I’ve been encouraged by my children to finish the digitization and post them as podcasts. I’ve often thought about a False Ducks podcast but I think I wouldn’t have the voice for it. I’d have to be entertaining for a long period but I like the short bursts of comedy sketches. I only have to be “on” for those few minutes and then I can move along. I can play a character and those are more fun most times than being me. If I want to be me then I’ll write a blahg…like this one.
I rate this blahg a 66 out of 5 or a 0. But ask me again tomorrow. I’ll probably change my mind by then.
If you’re following this blahg, you’re probably wondering what happened to THIS IS 100, PART TWO. Look up. That’s the title of this blahg. When I reached 100 blahgs, I created THIS IS 100, PART ONE but then took a break. I needed it. I had doubled down on creating two blahgs a month and when I reached the magic 100, I needed a break. I’ve been secretly working on a project that will get revealed somewhere in this blahg. Have I said the word “blahg” enough times? Here’s another. This blahg will be a recap of blahgs 76-99 because I don’t need to recap 100. I’ll also have to take some artistic license to add topics where duplication exists. Fancy words I know, so let’s move on.
76. MEATS AND CHEESES AND BABY JESUS. That blahg was dedicated to a new Christmas Entertainment I had written with the title “Meats And Cheeses And Baby Jesus.” I won’t post it here again but here’s a link to the original blahg where it appears: MEATS AND CHEESES AND BABY JESUS. It was all about a staff Christmas party that I had to attend. This year I have a new job and I’m a staff team of one. I think the Secret Santa gift exchange will suck. I probably won’t get myself anything nice.
77. IT WILL BE OKAY. I was coming off 2019 which had presented many challenges. My Dad died in 2019 and I was diagnosed with Polymyalgia Rheumatica. I was still on prednisone at the end of 2019 and I was practicing my mantra that in 2020 “It Will Be Okay.” It wasn’t. I lost my job and some colleagues that I trusted turned against me. I’m under a gag order not to talk about the settlement that I was awarded. I’ll just say, “I WON!” And now I have a new job where I’m trusted and with a staff team I trust. Okay, I’m the only one in the staff team but I trust myself…mostly. I guess it was okay after all.
78. HOW I MET MY WIFE…OR BEST LEAP DAY EVER! I told the story of how I met my wife and how the stars had to align to make that happen. That’s my wife’s Facebook profile picture to the right. I’m not sure which one is supposed to be me. This photo below is one of my favorite pictures of us back in 1986:
That’s me on the right. In later pictures I’m on the left. It’s a wonder how the love of a good woman can make you change. Hey, I wonder whatever happened to that watch?
79. THE FALSE DUCKS VIDEO BLAHG #3: HOW I’M SURVIVING MY ISOLATION. Part of the blahg was talking about being in quarantine during the pandemic and what I was watching and what I was listening to in my isolation. Luckily, I didn’t get Covid 19. Sadly, one of the artists I mentioned in the blahg was Trini Lopez and he passed away in 2020 due to complications from Covid19. He was 83. I have a 45rpm picture sleeve record of Trini Lopez that was a giveaway with Fresca in 1967. Here is Trini Lopez singing the promo song “The Blizzard Song”:
80. DOWN A RABBIT HOLE WITH LINDA KEENE. Where do I even begin to start with this one? Down a rabbit hole is right. I wrote three other Linda Keene blahgs after this one and I’ve continued to edit them with new material. The big reveal on the secret project is that I’m in negotiations with a company that may be releasing a 2 CD set of Linda Keene material with liner notes by me. At the beginning of 2020 I hadn’t even heard of Linda Keene and now I’m being consulted and asked to write liner notes! I’ll keep everyone posted on the release.
81, 82, & 83. TRACING LINDA KEENE. A three part series where I traced musical star Linda Keene through the media notices, reviews, and advertisements. I traced her from her start as Florence McCrory, having been born in Mississippi in 1911, through her married years as Florence Suttle, and her transition in 1937 to Linda Keene. All three blahgs are chock full of images and links to her recordings and three film Soundies she made. The last blahg ends with the reveal of two new songs discovered on a 78rpm demonstration record she recorded in the early 1950s. Mississippi born and Mississippi reflecting on one of the lost songs, “Muddy Water”:
84. CHRISTMAS IS WHAT YOU MAKE IT. I was lamenting the fact that my daughter Emily and her husband Charlie couldn’t come home for Christmas last year due to Covid 19 precautions. We did a Face-time video meet up and opened our presents over that video chat. The theme of that blahg was trying to make a Christmas for ourselves despite all the issues raised by the pandemic. In fact, I went even further and with my friends Stephen Dafoe and Bryan Dawkins, we wrote and recorded a new Christmas special for the first time in 25 years with the elegant title of “The Dead From The Neck Up 25th Anniversary Covid 19 Quarantine Special.” Talk about a mouthful! I later remastered it and uploaded it to YouTube with some video of my Christmas light display:
85. THE FALSE DUCKS VIDEO BLAHG #4: OH, DIDN’T I RAMBLE. And yet another video blahg where I ramble on about things I wanted to accomplish in 2021. Reaching 100 blahgs was big on that list. Chalk one up in the accomplished column. I posted a video of my daughter Abbie and I doing the polar dip at North Beach on January 1st of this year. It deserves a re-posting:
86. MY FATHER’S VOICE. I had started to forget the sound of my Father’s voice now two years after his passing. I woke up suddenly one night hearing my Father call my name. I had to find examples of my Father’s voice so I could hear him again. Here’s the speech he gave at my wedding in 1987:
My Father still speaks to me every day. It’s my own voice now but it’s his wisdom…or his nonsense…depending on who you ask.
87. A LATE CHRISTMAS STORY…OR AN EARLY ONE. This blahg debuted the Christmas story that I was trying to write for 2020 but didn’t finish until late January/early February this year. Here it is again in September of 2021:
The Stolen Christmas
It was nearing the end of November before Brad realized it was almost Christmas again.
“Do you realize it’s almost Christmas again?” he hollered out to Carla.
Carla was in the bedroom that also doubled as her home office. Brad’s home office was in the spare bedroom. He and Carla both were able to work from home during the pandemic. She was part of a team who developed online advertising and Brad did coding for video games. It sometimes made for tight quarters but if staying home and staying safe were necessary then they would make it work.
“It seems to steal up on us earlier every year,” she shouted back.
“What’s that?” Brad inquired, leaning into their bedroom.
“You asked me if I realized it’s almost Christmas again and I replied it seems to steal up on us earlier every year. Say, aren’t you supposed to be working.”
“I’m on a break,” he replied. “It’s one of the perks of working from home.”
“I could use a break, too,” she offered in return.
“Coffee run?” Brad asked as he stretched in the doorway.
“Hot Licks it is,” she replied.
Hot Licks, was the neighbourhood ice-cream and coffee shop. It was one of the few businesses offering curbside pickup. Brad and Carla could have just as easily made coffee at home but one of the perks of working from home certainly was not seeing the same walls day in and day out. Both made it a point to go out for a walk at least once a day to get exercise and a change of scenery.
It had been challenging this past year working from home. Oh, having home work stations was easily accomplished and their Internet was fast enough to handle their needs. It was the social aspect that was the most difficult. In the past few weeks, it had just been the two of them and not getting on each other’s nerves was a conscious effort for both of them. They took walks together, yes, but they also took walks alone or made excuses to run errands without the other. Carla enjoyed going to the grocery store alone and Brad had taken to early evening coffee runs on his own.
“What was that you said about stealing Christmas,” he asked of Carla when they were down on the street.
“I didn’t say anything about stealing Christmas, silly. I said Christmas seems to steal up on us earlier every year.”
“Oh,” Brad replied. “Still…”, he said trailing off and looking at some of the houses on their way to Hot Licks. “Still,” he began again. “I wonder if it could be done?”
“If what could be done?” Carla inquired. He was making no sense.
Brad stopped and pointed to the porch of a bungalow. “Look at that package sitting there. Obviously some courier left it when he realized no one was home. Anyone could just walk up and steal it.” Brad seemed overly excited about the notion.
“What are you going on about? “ Carla asked. “You’re not thinking about stealing that package?” She tugged at his arm to try to remove him from the temptation.
“No,” Brad said, resisting her efforts to pull him along. “I’m thinking bigger. I was wondering if it were possible to steal Christmas.”
Carla stared at him. What was he saying?
“What are you saying?” Carla asked, speaking her thoughts aloud.
“Well,” Brad began. “Every year we have a pretty good Christmas and I have no complaints but there’s no challenge in it. We spend what we spend and we get each other what we get each other. Maybe it’s the whole pandemic but I want things to be different.”
“Things are different. There’s a pandemic and we’re in a lockdown,” Carla said, stating the obvious.
“I know,” Brad began again. “But what if we stole our Christmas? Nothing store bought or ordered. Everything has to be stolen. No ordering online either. It can be done. Just look at that package on that porch, for example. It would be so easy and every gift is a surprise box.”
Carla couldn’t believe what he was saying. Was he really serious about this?
“I’m serious about this,” Brad continued. “Let’s do it. I’ll take care of the tree and decorations and you take care of the Christmas dinner menu.”
“We can’t,” Carla answered in reply. Still, she didn’t have a rational reason why they couldn’t. A moral reason yes but Brad seemed so intent on the idea. Could she really go along with this? The idea was insane but Brad was right, it was a challenge and they had so few of those other than those imposed by the pandemic and the lockdown.
“Just say you’ll think about it,” Brad implored. He was squeezing her hand now.
“You won’t get a PlayStation 5 for Christmas, then,” was all she could think to say.
“Neither will you, unless one of the mystery porch presents contains one. I know you want a PS5 just as badly as I do.”
“What about that coffee?” she asked pulling at his arm again. “I have work to do and so do you.” She hoped that removing him from the sight of the porch parcel would eventually aid in him forgetting about his stealing Christmas idea.
They eventually made it to Hot Licks and back home again. Nothing more was said that day about the crazy idea.
————
Nothing more had been said about the Christmas stealing for almost a week until one evening Brad came in with a Christmas Tree. It had obviously been a struggle to get it in the elevator let alone the building. It was fully lighted and decorated with ornaments.
“How do you like that!” Brad declared.
Carla was taken aback. There was Brad standing there with a seven foot artificial Christmas Tree and a grin almost as big. It wasn’t the fact that he was standing there with this tree but that she recognized it. The tree was the one outside of Hot Licks. It still had some of the coffee themed ornaments adorning its limbs. She recognized the star on top and even the red metal stand. Brad had thought of everything.
“Don’t tell me you don’t like it?” Brad began. “Do you know what it took to get it up here? The stares alone were enough to stop me in my tracks but I was committed. Someone once said ‘don’t steal anything small’.”
“Oh yeah who was that?” Carla decided it would be best to play along.
“I don’t know, but somebody did,” Brad replied.
“Hey Google,” Carla shouted out to their Google Nest Hub. “Who said, Never Steal Anything Small?” It not only controlled lights and electrical devices in their home, but through its connection to the Internet, it was a wealth of information.
“James Cagney,” Google replied. “Never steal anything small marked the last time James Cagney sang and danced on screen.”
“There you go,” Brad remarked triumphantly. “Never steal anything small. Do you want to me sing and dance?
“No thanks,” Carla replied, “I’ve seen you sing and dance. I’d rather watch the tree.”
Brad took that as his cue. He went to the kitchen and rifled through a drawer and came up with an extension cord. He plugged it into a spare outlet and then connected the tree. Immediately the apartment was ablaze with the glow of the coloured lights.
“Hey Google, turn off all of the apartment lights,” Brad shouted.
The result was stunning. The glow from the tree was breathtaking.
“Will you look at that,” Brad exclaimed.
Carla was. She was looking at the tree…a tree that should have been outside Hot Licks. He was right, though, it was a sight to behold…certainly better than watching Brad dance. Of course, Brad had set up the tree in the middle of their living area but she could adjust that later. Right now, she would let him have this moment.
That night, Carla lay in bed thinking about the tree. This stealing business was now a thing and it was getting serious. The tree outside of Hot Licks was a source of pride in the neighbourhood. What would people say when they noticed it gone? Should Carla say something to Brad? How could she? Brad had been so proud of himself. Did this mean she was now committed to the stealing Christmas scheme? Could she really do it? Brad had made the first move. Now it was up to her.
The next day during her lunch break, Carla made an excuse about having to get some air. She made sure that on her walk, she passed by Hot Licks. She was right, the tree was gone. On the door there was a sign that read: ‘Merry Christmas everyone, closed until further notice.’
Carla was taken aback. What did this mean? The store had been open yesterday. She had bought coffee there for her and Brad. Did this single act of theft bring about the closure of the store? Had the owners taken it that hard? Maybe it was a sense of betrayal to them.
Carla felt sick. She stepped into an alley and threw up.
When she returned to the apartment she was very pale. Brad was still working. Carla went back to work. She was still feeling nauseous. Later, it passed. She said nothing to Brad.
————
The gifts began to appear beneath the tree. There were small things at first and then Brad had placed a larger gift under the tree. It was a square box shape and had some heft to it. Carla couldn’t help herself. She stopped short of shaking it or tearing off a small piece of the wrapping to get an idea of what might be inside.
Was this one of those porch parcels? She didn’t know when Brad had acquired it. It just showed up beneath the tree one day. Did this make Brad a Porch Pirate? The phrase was all over the media. When she thought about it, she really didn’t want to know. The uneasiness was back in her stomach again.
A few days later, there was a large Christmas gift for Brad underneath the tree. He too, had tested the weight of the present. It was heavy enough and it set his mind wondering what it was. He also wondered where Carla had picked it up. Had she picked it up…off someone’s porch maybe? Brad didn’t want to think about it. Christmas was going to be very interesting this year.
————
Brad began to notice a change in Carla. It had started after he had brought home the Christmas Tree. It was subtle things. She was quieter. She didn’t like to take as many walks as she once did. Maybe it was Christmas. Maybe it was the pandemic. Brad didn’t push her on it.
If it was Christmas, Carla didn’t say anything about it. The whole idea of stealing Christmas was an insane idea but Carla seemed to be taking it in stride.
It started with the canned goods. One day after one of her infrequent walks, the kitchen counter displayed cans of pumpkin, cranberry sauce, water chestnuts, and mushrooms.
“I understand the cranberry sauce and the pumpkin but what’s with the chestnuts and mushrooms?” Brad asked. It was safer asking her these types of questions. It was clear she didn’t want to talk about personal issues.
“It’s a new stuffing recipe I want to try,” was all that Carla would say.
“Don’t you need a turkey for that?” Brad asked.
“Just you wait,” Carla answered.
Brad didn’t have to wait long. A few days later, there was a frozen turkey in the refrigerator.
“How…” Brad couldn’t finish the question. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. But he did know. She had gone out in sweats and then there was the turkey.
“No one questions a pregnant lady at the grocery store,” Carla casually replied.
Brad conjured up the image. Shoplifting was becoming an art with her. Should he be concerned? He had started all of this. A stolen Christmas. Wasn’t that his suggestion after all?
Brad looked at her. He leaned in and gave her a kiss. He’d have to let this thing play out.
————
Christmas day came with many revelations.
It started with the gifts.
“Go ahead, open it,” Brad said after placing the large gift at Carla’s feet. There was that big grin like the one he had sported after he had brought home the Christmas Tree.
“I can’t imagine what it is. I suppose it will be something totally useless,” Carla began as she tore into the wrapping. “Porch presents never are all that good. People always order the stupidest of things that they don’t really…” Her voice trailed off. Her removal of the wrapping revealed a PlayStation 5.
“Surprised, hunh?” Brad asked.
He wasn’t wrong. She was surprised. She couldn’t believe it. This was too much. The Christmas Tree was one thing but stealing a PlayStation 5 was too much. This was a Christmas present meant for someone else and not for her. There was no way this came from somebody’s porch. There was no way that Brad could have known that someone had ordered a PS5. But where else could he have gotten it?
Carla had so many questions but she felt if she asked them then it would ruin everything for Brad. Instead, she gently set aside the PS5 and quietly grabbed up the large bag and handed it to Brad.
“Oh boy, I just love Christmas. I know I’m just a big kid but…” Brad’s voice had trailed off too after he had opened his gift. Inside was another PlayStation 5. The grin from Brad’s face faded and was replaced by a look of confusion.
“Merry Christmas,” Carla offered up in a quiet crackling voice. The time had come for the truth.
“I don’t understand,” Brad began before being interrupted by Carla.
“Okay, okay. I bought it.” Carla watched Brad’s face. Was he unhappy with her for not stealing it? She couldn’t tell. The look of confusion on his face grew more intent.
“There’s no way. It was sold out everywhere.” If Brad was disappointed that it wasn’t stolen, he didn’t show it.
“Remember last month when I went to visit my sister?” Carla asked?
“Yeah, you told me she was going through something and you went as moral support.”
“The truth is I was in line at Gamer Station. They’re one of my clients. They tweeted out that they had received some stock. I was the second in line. I had to wait all night.“ Carla was still expecting that look of disappointment from Brad. “I’m sorry I just couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t steal Christmas.”
Brad’s face brightened and the grin returned. “Neither could I.”
“I don’t understand.” The look of confusion was now on Carla’s face.
“Compare your PS5 to the one you gave me,” Brad replied.
Carla set both gifts side by side and then she saw it. Brad’s gift to her was a PS5 bundled with “Grim Reaper Redux.”
“It’s your game! I mean it’s that game you used to play. But that game was more than ten years ago.” Carla was even more confused.
“That’s what I was working on earlier this year,“ Brad offered. “It’s the old game remastered with better graphics and more levels. Sony decided to do a special bundle of the game with the release of the PS5. I received a free console for my work.”
“So you didn’t steal yours either then?” Carla pointed out.
“Like you, I couldn’t steal Christmas either.”
“But what about the tree?” Carla queried.
“Oh, Nico gave me that.” Nico was the owner of Hot Licks. “Or rather he sold it to me for a dollar.”
Carla was relieved. But why did Hot Licks close? “But why did Hot Licks close?” she shot back.
“Nico thought it was safer to close over the holidays. He didn’t want to put any of his staff or customers at risk. I saw him putting up the notice one evening and we got to chatting. I asked him what he was going to do with the tree. He told me to take it and hoped it would make my Christmas brighter. I told him I couldn’t just take the tree for nothing so I offered him a dollar. That way I could claim it was a real steal.” Brad seemed very pleased with himself.
“And the other gifts under the tree?” Carla inquired.
“Ordered online. It turns out I’m no thief.”
“Same here,” Carla responded.
The rest of the presents weren’t as extravagant as the PlayStations. There were clothes and the requisite socks and underwear, as well as books and DVDs and other items ordered online and not stolen. Carla laughed to herself thinking about someone possibly stealing someone else’s underwear.
The day was perfect. They had found out what type of people they really were and amazed themselves at the same quality in their partner.
“No one questions a pregnant lady at the grocery store,” Brad said with a laugh later that day over Christmas dinner. “Here I was imagining you with a turkey stuffed in your clothing.
“Oh, that part’s true,” Carla casually replied.
“What!?” Brad exclaimed. “I thought you said you didn’t steal anything?”
“I didn’t. I said the part about no one questioning a pregnant lady at the grocery store was true.”
“I don’t get it,” Brad replied. It took him a few seconds but Carla’s smile explained everything.
“You mean..?” Brad uttered awkwardly.
“Merry Christmas Daddy,” Carla said through her huge smile.
Carla had known for a few weeks but she waited until Christmas to give Brad the news. She had suspected the pregnancy after that day she had vomited in the alley near Hot Licks. The morning sickness had continued after that and a home pregnancy kit had confirmed it. Blood work requested by her Doctor revealed the same. The most difficult thing had not been the morning sickness but keeping the secret from Brad.
Brad was quiet for a moment with the thought of it all. It was a perfect Christmas and nothing had been stolen. Brad decided that the appropriate reply to Carla’s revelation was to reach over to her and steal a kiss. He didn’t think she would mind that he’d stolen something after all.
And she didn’t.
88. THE RAMBLE UNPACKED. This blahg was an unpacking or explanation of everything (and more) from THE FALSE DUCKS VIDEO BLAHG #4: OH, DIDN’T I RAMBLE. In that blahg, I rambled about a number of things that I wanted to talk about this year and unpacking the ramble gave me the chance to explain my progress. Fix the cuckoo clock? Check! Read Geoffrey Willans’ “How to be Topp?” Check! Read “Roses Are Difficult Here” by W.O. Mitchell? I hadn’t when I had written that blahg but I have since, so Check! Another part of the blahg was dedicated to my new found fascination of the trumpet player Billy Butterfield. I started buying up CDs and records by this talented artist. Here’s a great live video of Billy Butterfield performing “Ain’t Misbehavin’ ” on a Peter Appleyard show in 1978:
89. THE BEST OF EVERYTHING. A pregnant colleague inspired this blahg. I’m currently filling in while she is on maternity leave until July of next year. Earlier this year, before she had her baby, I asked her if she had any weird cravings. Here’s what I wrote in that blahg: “She said she hadn’t had any cravings but everything she ate recently seemed to her to be the best of that particular things she had ever had. I commented that wouldn’t it be great if you could keep that feeling all the time and that no matter what you were eating or viewing or hearing or experiencing at any given moment was the best. It would be the ultimate ‘living in the moment’ experience you could ever have.” The blahg was filled with musical references and audio and video clips related to songs about having the best of everything or just enjoying what you have. Me, I enjoy Mel Tormé. That may not be the best for everyone but I think this video of him singing “We’ve Got A World That Swings” pushes my point. Forget that bad stuff and enjoy the good stuff right now.
90. 12 MONTHS – 12 RECORDS – 12 SONGS. The first of two blahgs featuring tracks from 12 albums I had purchased over the past year. One of these albums was “Jumpin’ With Jonah” featuring the Jonah Jones Quartet. Here’s another track from that album, “It’s A Good Day.” I think that would have tied in well with “The Best of Everything” blahg as well.
91. 12 MONTHS – 12 MORE RECORDS – 12 MORE SONGS.Another batch of 12 albums that I purchased over the previous year. One of the albums was “Bernadine” by Bernadine Read. I had found this record at a thrift shop only shortly before I wrote this 12 More Records blahg. I really liked the album but I’m going to offer up a bonus by Bernadine Read. Her version of “Learnin’ The Blues” (which was a hit for Frank Sinatra) appeared on an obscure record “Cha-Cha, Merengue, Bolero And Mambo” by Belmonte and His Orchestra. I don’t own the album and I’m not sure how she ended up on this album. On “learning’ The Blues” she sounds a bit like Marilyn Monroe. Not sure if it’s Cha-Cha, Merengue, Bolero or Mambo. Still, it’s a nice effort.
92. SOME FORGOTTEN BANDS…WITH A NOD TO LINDA KEENE. Quoting from that blahg: “I spent a great deal of time researching Linda Keene and perusing through old newspaper articles to assemble a narrative of Linda Keene’s career. One thing I learned, outside of all of the things I learned about Linda Keene, was that there were many big bands and orchestras in the mid and late 1930s and through the 1940s that we no longer remember. So, I thought I would look at some of those forgotten bands that specifically were associated in some way with Linda Keene.” I’m going to mention one more band with an association to Linda Keene.
I noted earlier in this blahg that I’m working on the liner notes to an upcoming Linda Keene CD project. I had been contacted by James Harrod, a jazz researcher and he brought me into the fold to work on this project. James had worked on a previous CD set of “The Unknown Arv Garrison, Wizard of The Six String.” Arv Garrison was once married to Vivien Garry and they performed together in the Vivien Garry Trio. The connection to Linda Keene is that James wrote an article earlier this year about “Vivien Garry On Record.” You can check it out here: https://jazzresearch.com/vivien-garry-on-record/. Here’s an excerpt from James’ research: “Dave Ehrhard, a record collector and one of Vivien’s greatest fans, compiled a discography that she included in her autobiography, The Blues in “B” Flat. The entry on the last page of Ehrhard’s discography notes unissued demo recordings with Moe Diffenbach accompanying Garry on piano.” One of the unissued demo recordings was “I Don’t Care What You Used To Be” (with Linda Keene). Unfortunately the demo recordings were either donated somewhere or are lost to us now. Instead, I’ll offer up Vivien Garry and Her All-Girl Band with “A Woman’s Place Is In the Groove.”
And to think, if it wasn’t for Linda Keene, I wouldn’t know who Vivien Garry is…was…you know what I mean.
93. ASTRAZENECA VACCINE — MY CAUTIONARY TALE. I received Astrazeneca as my first Covid 19 vaccine and was sick for two weeks. I received Moderna for my second and it caused a flare up of my Polymyalgia Rhematica. Am I complaining? Well, not now I’m not. I did this not just for me but everyone else who might be infected if I didn’t get a vaccine. To all of those anti-vaxxers out there, get over yourself you big crying babies. What’s a little shot compared to potential death? I forgot, big babies can’t make complex comparisons. DO THE RIGHT THING! GET A VACCINE!
94. SINATRA–CNE–1984–SEPTEMBER IN THE RAIN. On September 2nd of this year, it was the 37th anniversary of my seeing Sinatra for the first time. It was at the Canadian National Exhibition in Toronto in 1984 and it poured rain. This blahg gave some back story to the love/hate relationship Toronto had with Sinatra around that time. Here’s one of the rain songs Sinatra sang that night, “Come Rain Or Come Shine.” Sinatra rain or shine. Make it mine.
95. WHAT ON EARTH IS SCOBEYFAN? I hope I answered this one. And I hope I did it justice. The answer is I am scobeyfan…being a fan of Bob Scobey. It’s a username I utilize on the Internet. The blahg was dedicated to the music of Bob Scobey. The blahg had so many audio files and a few videos that I’m hard pressed to find anything else left to say. So I’ll say it with the music. This is another favorite of mine from the “Beauty And The Beat” LP. I like to sing along to this one. It’s “Alice Blue Gown”:
96. WHAT IS WRONG WITH THE WORLD? – PART 2. I decided to revisit a topic I had first explored in December of 2012. Almost nine years on and I was wondering if anything had changed. I don’t know. The point is to take care of ourselves and maybe it will affect the world around us. Doris Day did a great album with André Previn called “Duet” and there’s an inspiring song about controlling yourself so you gain tranquility. It’s very infectious. The song is appropriately called “Control Yourself”:
97. SOME FORGOTTEN SONGBIRDS. Truth be told, I was pulling the names of these forgotten songbirds from old newspaper articles and a PDF I downloaded somewhere that had photos of many of the male and female singers with big bands. One I didn’t comment on was Lucy Ann Polk. Here’s her photo from the PDF:
This is from her Wikipedia page entry:
Lucy Ann Polk (May 16, 1927 – October 10, 2011) was an American jazz singer who performed with Les Brown’s orchestra in the 1950s. She also sang and recorded with Bob Crosby, Kay Kyser, Tommy Dorsey, and Dave Pell.
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Polk began her music career with her sister and brothers in a quartet named the Four Polks, which was eventually changed to the Town Criers. They performed with big bands led by Les Brown, Lionel Hampton, and Kay Kyser until they disbanded in 1948. Polk became the lead vocalist with the Les Brown Orchestra. From 1952–1954, she was named Best Girl Singer with Band by Down Beat magazine.
She began her solo career with the album Lucy Ann Polk with the Dave Pell Octet (Trend, 1954), followed by Lucky Lucy Ann (Mode, 1957; reissued by Interlude under the name Easy Livin in 1959). The latter album featured arrangements by Marty Paich. On both albums, she sang jazz and traditional pop songs by Duke Ellington, Billy Strayhorn, Hoagy Carmichael, Cole Porter, Sammy Cahn, Jule Styne, and Jimmy Van Heusen. She released no more albums and ended her career in 1960.
In 1946, Polk married Dick Noel, who played trombone with Les Brown’s orchestra.
We are lucky that the Four Polks filmed a Soundie of a song “Miss You” and you can catch that on YouTube:
When Lucy and her siblings rebranded as the Town Criers they also made an appearance in the 1945 movie “Radio Stars On Parade” singing “My Grandfather’s Clock.
Here’s a 1951 entry of her singing with Les Brown and His Orchestra on “I’ve Got The World On A String”:
With Bob Crosby’s band here’s Lucy Ann singing “Just When We’re Falling In Love”:
Here’s one of her solo entries with the Dave Pell Octet:
And finally with the Marty Paich Sextet on “Don’cha Go Away Mad”:
I could have probably done a separate blahg on her alone.
98. WHAT’S SO FUNNY? I find many things funny but recently my friend Bryan and I were talking about film comedian Roscoe “Fatty” Arbuckle. On September 5, 2021 (this year) it marked the 100th year anniversary of the Roscoe Arbuckle scandal. Look it up. It was a travesty and he was rightly acquitted. Unfortunately there was a ban on Arbuckle after that and he couldn’t work openly in Hollywood. He tried to make a comeback in 1932 and released 6 shorts with Warner Brothers through Vitaphone. Unfortunately Arbuckle would suffer a fatal heart-attack the following year at the age of 46. Luckily many of his films are out there for viewing. Here is “Buzzin’ Around” from 1933:
99. STILL THINKING FOR MYSELF. Again, I revisited a blahg from 2012. It was the case of repairing my friend’s laptop and struggling with bad advice I found on the Internet. I didn’t give up and I kept at it, knowing there had to be a solution out there. I found it and fixed it. That’s the short answer. The even shorter answer is “Think For Yourself!” Of course there’s that whole adage of “think of others”. That’s true when it comes to getting a vaccine. It’s also true that getting a vaccine is thinking of yourself. Do you want to get Covid 19? Do you want to die? Do you want to infect others around you and make them die? The correct answer to all of that is NO! Do the research and do the right thing. Get the vaccine. At least think about it.
100. THIS IS 100, PART ONE. I’m not going to rehash this one. Go back one blahg and read it. It’s a review of blahgs 51 to 75. It was a celebration of 100 blahgs. Instead of revisiting that, let’s think of other 100 things to celebrate. Of course, we’re not celebrating 100 years since the Roscoe Arbuckle scandal. He deserves better than that. I wonder what our world will be like 100 years from today? Will we have World Peace? Will we be closer to World Peace? Will we have healed the planet and addressed all of the environmental issues? Will someone look back on my 100 blahgs and say kind things or will I have written a great masterpiece by then? Does it matter? There’s a great song called “A Hundred Years From Today” that poses that question if it really matters and that we should seize the day today. Frank Sinatra sang the song “A Hundred Years From Today” on his radio program “To Be Perfectly Frank” back in 1954 and then recorded it thirty years later for his 1984 album “L.A. Is My Lady.” The 1954 effort is a nice ballad with Graham Forbes on piano:
The 1984 recording is a swinging version conducted by Quincy Jones:
The point is to do something today. Save the planet. Get out and vote. Get a vaccine. Don’t wait for another 100 years to get going.
By the way, in case you’ve lost count, this blahg is 101…and not a dalmatian in sight. Come on, lighten up, that was meant to be funny!
Well, it happened again. Another milestone snuck up on me. No, it’s not my birthday. It’s also not my wife’s birthday which is this Saturday and yes, before anyone asks, I’m already prepared for that. The milestone I’m talking about is my 100th blahg. If you checked out my first blahg of this year, THE FALSE DUCKS VIDEO BLAHG #4: OH, DIDN’T I RAMBLE, I mentioned that it was possible to complete the 100th blahg sometime in September if I doubled down and started writing two blahgs a month. I did that but I still came out ahead. I guess I didn’t count correctly back in January. Don’t worry, I know how to count and I’m not stupid enough to count out the corresponding number of candles for my wife’s birthday cake and then put them on there. I want to stay happily married.
The first blahg that I wrote was THE BLAHG & THE MOST HAPPY SOUND, which I published on October 2nd, in 2011. I reached the 50 blahg mark on December 12th, 2015. Here’s what I said back then about reaching the 50 blahg mark:
Fifty blahgs in 4 years? I’m sure that’s not a record to boast about. I remember when I started this blahg that I had high ambitions. I deluded myself into thinking I could write two blahgs a week. I then amended that goal to write 50 blahgs before I turned 50. I turned 50 in September of 2012. I guess I missed that goal as well. To tell the truth, I’m just glad that I’m still writing; even if I don’t know if anyone is reading.
I know for a fact that someone is reading because in the past few months I’ve been contacted about two different blahgs. I don’t want to talk about those because there’s a big project in the works and I’m hoping to be a part of it. More, hopefully, on that later.
So, 100 hunh? What do I write about to commemorate that triple digit accomplishment? When I wrote the 50th blahg, it was long enough that I had to split it into two blahgs: THIS IS 50, PART ONE. and THIS IS 50, PART TWO, I reviewed a number of topics I had covered in the first 49 and then added a few. It took me just over four years to reach the 50 mark and it’s taken just over five and a half years to get to 100. That’s almost ten years cumulatively to get to this point. If anyone is asking, I guess I’ve strove for quality and not quantity. I think this blahg should be another retrospective of this second set of 50 blahgs. Of course, I’ll leave off number 51 because that was THIS IS 50, PART TWO and was a summary of the previous 49 or 50. So let’s see how I do encapsulating the past blahgs in so many words.
51. This is 50, Part Two. I said I wasn’t going to look back on that one but I did add a few extra topics to round that one out. One of those was “Donald Trump”. Little did we know that five and half years later we would finally be rid of him. Let’s hope, like Covid 19, we don’t see a second wave of him. If there is a big new wave then hopefully he’s standing in front of it.
52. The Balancing Act. I had started a new job and was trying to balance a work and home life. I wasn’t doing so well. I was letting my wife pick up my slack. I hope I’ve done better since then. Ask me again after her Birthday. At least I wrote a new poem for it, “the balancing act”:
the balancing act
take a boy in a tree legs akimbo aware of sky and ground trying to be somewhere in the middle years pass boy becomes older bigger maybe taller maybe just bigger around the middle maybe married maybe children maybe job trying to stay balanced on his limb his own limbs flying flying objects in the air trying not to let anyone or anything come crashing down
there’s no prize to keep your eyes on you can’t look away or everything falls away maybe steal a glance here or there at other boys in the tree more likely other girls but don’t let anyone catch you looking certainly not the wife sometimes you get a glimpse of another part of the tree the branch not taken and you wonder
and in that instance you drop something your guard your focus and you shift direction maybe weight to another foot and you pick up someone else’s load maybe that parent who climbed up after you and now there’s things on your shoulders more to bear bear down stay centered
some boys jump walk way from the jumble around the trunk see the brass ring maybe a selfish one a way down hide among the bushes and be someone else another boy
can’t be that way this boy’s staked a spot defend it cherish it wave off birds other intruders other boys those other girls glimpsed from a distance
the balls are still in the air plates spinning head erect eyes forward no longer balancing part of the tree maybe the tree rooted beckoning to the other boys catching their kites so they have to come nearer see this boy’s foliage
reaching out
calling out
climb up climb up
stay awhile
53. It’s Never Too Late. I finally got the Micronauts Rocket Tubes I always wanted. That was in early 2016. I haven’t pulled them out since. I guess I didn’t want it all the much. Still, there’s the Canadian version from Sears that had the gliders. I’d really like that. Maybe it’s still not too late.
54. If I’d Be A Superman. I’ve always had a fascination with Superman. That blahg was not inspired by the film “Batman V. Superman, Dawn of Justice” which came out around the same time as that blahg. Nor is this blahg inspired by “Justice League – The Zack Snyder Cut.” Earlier this year I watched the 2015 documentary, “The Death of “Superman Lives”: What Happened?” Fascinating story of what might have happened if Nicholas Cage and Tim Burton had got together to make a Superman film. Unlike my last blahg, it’s far too late for that project.
55. A Class Act. That blahg was primarily about my experience with the band “I Fight Dragons” and trying to purchase some of their music for my daughter Abbie. Their lead singer Brian emailed me personally and made the transaction happen in time for Abbie’s birthday. Later this year, “I Fight Dragons” will release a new album “Side Quest: B-Sides And Rarities.” You can bet I’ll get that for my daughter’s birthday unless she buys it first. She’s still waiting for them to do a concert in Toronto but she’s still waiting on that. It might happen. It’s never too late. Sorry, I just had to put that in.
56. R.I.P. Jerry Lewis 2017. Jerry Lewis also had a blahg in the first 50, I SHINED JERRY LEWIS’ SHOE. This second blahg was another homage to a great comedian. We are lucky that a few more of his films have been released since his passing in 2017. In 2013, Jerry Lewis starred in the film “Max Rose”. It has yet to be released on DVD in North America. Here’s a trailer:
Come on people, RELEASE “MAX ROSE”!
57. Bridge City Again, Pirates, And Happy Birthday To Canada! It was Canada’s 150th Birthday in 2017 but the focus of that blahg was more about the music; specifically The Bridge City Dixieland Jazz Band and the Pat Riccio Quartet. Neither of those bands played together but it would have been truly thrilling if they had. Tom Caldwell, son of Bob Caldwell, the leader of The Bridge City Dixieland Jazz Band had read one of my blahgs where I had mentioned the band and he reached out to let me know how much Bob had enjoyed knowing there was someone still listening to the band. Bridge City only put out one album with 10 tracks but Tom Caldwell sent me a homemade CD of 21 tracks from the Band. Here’s one of those extra tracks, “Hindustan”:
Another portion of that blahg was dedicated to the Pat Riccio Quartet and I posted a YouTube video of them performing in the 1960s. It deserves to be reposted:
58. Happy Birthday To Me, 2017. I had an accident around my 55th Birthday. I had been riding my daughter’s scooter and wiped out. I don’t want to dwell on that. The last half of that blahg presented some tracks from a newly acquired copy of the album “The Pat Riccio Quartet Featuring Teddy Wilson” put out by Canadian Talent Library. Someone has posted the entire album on YouTube. You have to give this one a listen:
By the way, my Birthday is next month on September 23rd. I think I’ll avoid any scooter rides.
59. Celebrating Paul Quarrington. A great writer and a great musician who died too soon. He is missed. Back to YouTube for another tribute. I sing this song sometimes when I talk about my old body. It’s “This Old Body” by Paul Quarrington:
60. Being Sick On Christmas Is No Fun. True story. I was incredibly sick on Christmas Day 2017. I had to break my previous 55 year record of not going to the hospital on Christmas Day. Lots of meds and days of rest took away the worst sore throat I ever had. I lost Christmas that year. Last year we had to scale back Christmas due to Covid 19 and my daughter Emily and her husband Charlie couldn’t be with us. I’m hoping everyone will be home for Christmas this year. I think I’ll have to double down on the Fireworks for this year.
61. Goodbye 2017, The Year That Tried To Kill Me. It didn’t. There was that scooter accident and being sick on Christmas. There was also a strange back pain that sent me to a chiropractor. I’ve had worse since then. Did I mention that I fell and hurt my neck two weekends ago and was in the hospital overnight? I guess that story’s for another blahg.
62. A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To The Election. That was about the spring 2018 provincial election. Little did I know that Doug Ford would be elected Premier. When pigs fly or a cold day in July. Put on your parkas and watch the skies. Next year we vote him out.
63. Have You Read Any Good Books Lately? Yes, I have. I won’t review the books again that I reviewed back then. Instead, I’ll mention two that I recently read, “The Bigger They Come” and “The Knife Slipped” by Erle Stanley Gardner writing as A.A. Fair. Gardner is famous for creating and writing about Perry Mason. Cool and Lam is a fictional American private detective firm run by Bertha Cool with Donald Lam as her main operative. Gardner published 29 books in the series from 1939 to 1970. I first became interested in the Cool and Lam series due to my interest in Frank Sinatra. The second book in the series “Turn On the Heat” was adapted for the June 23, 1946, broadcast of Hour of Mystery with Frank Sinatra as the first actor to portray Donald Lam. Unfortunately that broadcast does not appear to circulate. I always thought about reading the book from the series, “Turn On The Heat”, that the broadcast was based on. That meant starting with the first book, which you can see to the left, “The Bigger They Come.” I thoroughly enjoyed it. It’s the late 1930s into the 1940s gritty detective novel.
I was then going to turn my attention to “Turn On The Heat” which was the second published book in the series. I discovered, however, that this wasn’t the second book written in the series because Gardner had written “The Knife Slipped” after “The Bigger They Come.” Here’s what Wikipedia says about it: “Originally written to be the second book in the Cool and Lam series but rejected by Gardner’s publisher, The Knife Slipped was found among Gardner’s papers and published for the first time in 2016.” Hard Case Crime published “The Knife Slipped” and after reading it, and enjoying it even more than “The Bigger They Come”, I was drawn back in again to that gritty thirties Los Angeles noir. Hard Case Crime also republished “Turn On The Heat” and that’s the copy I have to read next. I took a bit of a break after reading the first two because I already know the basic plot of “Turn On The Heat.” In 1958 there was a pilot filmed for a “Cool and Lam” TV series and the plot of the pilot was taken from “Turn On The Heat.” I’ve watched the pilot but I’ll get around to reading the book. Below is that pilot for what could have been a fascinating series. I still think Cool and Lam would be a good TV or movie series.
64. What Happened To Mr. Henderson? Pass. That was the start of my Dad’s health problems and a battle with Belleville General Hospital Dad died as a result of their negligence. To the left, is a picture of my Father in 2015 when he had better care from that hospital.
65. “16 Inches Of Trouble” Or “Like Father Like Son”. This was one I enjoyed writing. It was about purchasing a 16 inch transcription record of Frank Sinatra and learning how to eventually play it and record it. You should read the whole blahg, “16 INCHES OF TROUBLE” OR “LIKE FATHER LIKE SON”, because it explains everything step by step. If you just want the introduction and then the finished solution, check out the two videos below.
In the last part of the blahg, the “Like Son” refers to my son Noah and his fascination and continued career in producing videos about analog film technology through Super 8mm, 35mm photo, and Polaroid instant film and into other forgotten film technologies. You can check out his YouTube channel here at https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCL9A6v7YSOOVXwCpao6Bszg. You can also find links to sponsor him at Patreon. I make a cameo or two.
66. The Jazz Band That Wasn’t…But Was! This is also another of my post 50 blahgs that I really like. It’s all about The Left Bank Bearcats who were a mysterious french band doing New Orleans style jazz recorded after hours at the Maison Diabolique in Paris. The truth was the albums actually were recorded in Philadelphia by American musicians. The three albums were Dixieland played by the Left Bank Bearcats, The Left Bank Bearcats Take George M. Cohan to Dixieland, and The Left Bank Bearcats in ‘Stereo’ (or The Left Bank Bearcats in “Hi-Fi” depending on what edition you had). I had found Dixieland played by the Left Bank Bearcats at a thrift store and that’s what started me into researching the band. It’s a fascinating story and in the blahg, THE JAZZ BAND THAT WASN’T…BUT WAS! you can find more information and links to download all three albums. Here’s the first song from that first album, “Monsieur Redwing” and it’s a swinger:
67. Some Christmas Stories. If you can’t figure out what that blahg is about by the title then maybe I shouldn’t tell you. Okay, twist my arm, I’ll tell you. For the past number of years I’ve written a new Christmas story. From that blahg, and from my Christmas collection “Proof For Believing”, here’s “Billy Built A Robot Christmas Morning.” I wrote this around 2005 and the reason I posted it in the Some Christmas Stories blahg was because I was thinking about writing a sequel Christmas story about Billy and what happened to him when he got older. I did write that sequel but I’ll get to that later.
Billy Built A Robot Christmas Morning
The first thing Billy did was to build a robot. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. The first thing Billy did was to wake up Christmas morning, open all of his presents, and express his extreme dissatisfaction at not getting the Grim Reaper 4 video game.
“It’s too violent,” his parents said. “You need something educational,” said his mother, “not something that’s all about killing and destroying stuff.”
So Billy built a robot. At first it was difficult. He didn’t grasp all of the principles of building the robot. He didn’t understand how to connect certain elements or to build a self-contained renewable energy pack to power the robot. And then there were the principles of motor control and incorporating a simulated brain with cognitive features allowing it to understand and carry out specified instructions. What did Billy know about any of these things? He was only ten.
So Billy used the Internet. There were numerous websites explaining certain codes and how to enable certain features. He even went to a chat room and talked for an hour with a guy in Canada who had managed to build a fleet of robots capable of recreating other robots in their own image. “Robots who built robots,” Billy thought. “That’s cool.”
It took quite some time for Billy to build his own Robot but when it was completed he was very pleased with himself. This Robot would be better than any others he had researched. It would obey only Billy and do his bidding.
So Billy set the Robot loose. At first it fumbled around and crashed through a few walls. It was bulky and its weight was considerable enough to cause extensive damage wherever it went. “Cool,” Billy exclaimed.
Then Billy maneuvered the Robot down the street and had it smash a few cars. People ran in terror when they saw the Robot. Billy didn’t care about the people. He could hurt them if he wanted too. He had learned from the Internet how to bi-pass certain inhibitors that would normally prevent the Robot from causing harm or even damaging things like walls and cars. But Billy would not allow his Robot to hurt any people. His parents wouldn’t like that. But eating cars and smashing buildings was cool and nobody got hurt.
Billy wasn’t sure what he should really do with his Robot. After a while he got bored of just having the Robot walk around and destroy things. He could try and build other robots like that guy in Canada but then what do you do with a bunch of robots other than having them destroy more stuff?
So Billy set his thoughts on world domination. He didn’t think about his parents anymore and he hardly even thought about Grim Reaper 4. This Robot thing was way cooler.
So time passed and Billy built more robots and appointed his first Robot as their leader. But they all followed Billy’s commands. At first they just all walked around destroying stuff but Billy soon commanded them to destroy only really important stuff so that the people would all be really scared of the robots. Sometimes some people shot at the robots but Billy had learned the trick to making his robots invincible. This just made the people angrier and they shot more stuff at the robots and there were explosions and things that made Billy more excited.
Eventually the robots destroyed all of the cities and the people followed the robots through the countryside. Some of them still shot stuff at the robots but most just followed the robots because there was nothing else to do.
The Robot that Billy built first always walked in the front. He was the biggest. Billy had made some changes to him and had given him laser eyes so he could destroy buildings and stuff from a distance. Some of the other robots looked just like the first Robot but they could do different things. Some had saw blades for hands and others had cannons in their chests. There was this one robot that Billy really thought was cool that had treads on the bottom of its feet so it could run through forests and destroy trees and stuff.
Eventually with all of the cities destroyed, there was nothing much left to do but to set up a post from where he could rule the world. That was easy. First he found a city that was all surrounded by water and he had the robots destroy all of the bridges. Then Billy had the robots build a fortress. That was cool. The robots kept anybody from going in there that weren’t robots.
All of the people who were on this new island city ran around and screamed and stuff but Billy didn’t care. He looked over this new island and thought this is probably the best spot where no one could hurt his robots. He could hear the people all yelling and stuff but he didn’t care.
“Billy!” Billy could hear one of the people calling his name. Why would someone be shouting his name?
“Billy!” Billy vaguely recognized the voice. He hadn’t heard it in a while but he was sure it was his mother’s voice.
“Billy!” Billy turned about looking for the source of the voice.
“Billy, shut off that robot video game. You’ve been playing it all day. Now shut it off and come to Christmas dinner.
The End
68. Another Christmas Memory. This one was dedicated to the first time I heard Frank Sinatra’s 1991 version of “Silent Night”. It was probably ten years ago and I was driving and listening to Warm 101.3 FM out of Syracuse, NY. They play Christmas all throughout the month of December and it’s a good way to get into the holiday spirit. I was aware that there was a version of “Silent Night” recorded by Frank Sinatra in 1991 and I didn’t have it. I had never heard it before because it had been released in 1991 on an obscure CD called “The Christmas Album…A Gift of Hope”. Well, sure enough, Warm 101.3 played it and I was amazed by the vocal. It was the elder Sinatra backed by Frank Sinatra Jr. on piano and a choir. A failing voice that was tender and cracked but with emotion that almost made me cry. Give it a listen:
There was another version recorded on the same day in 1991 with just Bill Miller on the piano. It would not be released until 2004 when it was a bonus track on “The Frank Sinatra Christmas Collection”. Thirteen years between releases? Of course, Sinatra had died by then, back in 1998, but we at least had an alternate take on the last song he ever recorded. Here’s that version of Sinatra singing “Silent Night” backed by Bill Miller:
Two Christmas songs on a hot day in August of 2021? Only here folks!
69. Welcome 2019…I’m Ready For You! I wasn’t. I had been lamenting some of my struggles in 2018 and was looking forward to 2019 being a better year. I did the Polar Dip for the first time that year. Unfortunately my Dad died two weeks later. I wasn’t ready for that at all. The only good thing to say about this blahg, was that I finished the sequel to “Billy Built A Robot Christmas Morning” and the sequel had its debut in this blahg:
BILLY’S BEST WORST CHRISTMAS EVER
This is the story of Billy but it’s not really his first story. Let me be clear I’m the author and I’m the one writing this story. I felt I needed to say that because I’m not sure if Billy is a good character or if he’s redeemable or worth redeeming. That’s what this story will determine.
We first met Billy in a story I wrote entitled “Billy Built A Robot Christmas Morning.” I guess he was about nine or ten. I never really gave it any thought. He wasn’t really likeable although I liked the story I wrote. But I’ve been thinking about Billy lately. I got to wondering how he turned out.
I was getting my hair cut not that long ago and I heard two women discussing what you get a 14 year old for Christmas. There were comments about it being a tough age and everything is electronic and gift options were limited. Really? I would think a good swift kick in the pants might be a good option. That last comment, like the good swift kick, should be aimed squarely at Billy.
Let me be clear, I don’t dislike 14 year olds or teenagers in that age range. I don’t even dislike Billy. I just think that all the stories today are about teenagers who get to save the world, as if there weren’t some more suitable older or even senior adults able to do that, or the teens are lost and struggling and you’re not really sure if they’re likeable or capable of redemption. I just would like to know where Billy fits into all of this. He’s going to be 14 in this story and we’ll see what happens.
So, I’m going to give Billy one more chance. He could be a good character but that’s up to him. When you have nothing to lose then you have everything to gain. I didn’t make that up. I’m just remembering that from somewhere. But that fits Billy. Let’s find out.
—————
Billy came home from school on at the start of his Christmas vacation on December 22nd to find a note pinned to the door of his home:
Billy, we’ve gone away for Christmas and we’ve taken Logan with us. Everything you need is at Grandma at Grandpa Thompson’s. Don’t try the door because it’s locked and we’ve armed the alarm with a new code.
Merry Christmas.
Mom & Dad
All Billy could think to say was “they took Logan?” Logan was his dog. Well, it was more the family dog. Billy had whined long and hard about having a dog and when his parents gave in, like they always did, he got a beagle for no particular occasion.
Billy was good with Logan in the beginning and did his best to feed him and walk him and clean up after him but when that became too much for him, or more to the point Billy lost interest, Mom and Dad provided for Logan. But still, “they took Logan?” What was that all about? They went away for Christmas and they took the family dog and left Billy behind?
Of course, I could tell you what that was all about. I am the author after all. Simply put, Mom and Dad had had enough…not with caring for Logan but with Billy not caring at all.
Billy tried the door. It was locked. He wondered if he should try his key. Maybe that part about changing the alarm code wasn’t true. He decided against that. No, this seemed all too real but he thought he’d better look around a bit.
Billy pressed his face up against the window in the door. He couldn’t see anything. It wasn’t dark but his view was only of the entrance hall and there was nothing there. He tried the living room window. Nothing there either. Oh, he could see the Christmas tree and all of the decorations but no sign of Mom and Dad.
“This makes no sense,” he said aloud to no one in particular. It really didn’t make any sense as far as he was concerned. Throughout the month of December his parents had been fools about Christmas. The decorations and the lights came out early and the tree went up and the holiday specials annoyed Billy for the whole month. Of course Billy had nothing to do with any of it. He shook his head at all that holiday nonsense. It had been too much for him and he had retreated to the sanctity of his room and his video games.
Of course, you and I can see it plainer than Billy. His Mom and Dad had tried to make a Christmas but Billy didn’t want to be a part of it. He wanted Christmas day and the presents and the dinner and that was it. No wonder Mom and Dad had split with Logan.
“What about the presents and the dinner?” Billy was getting good at talking to himself.
Mom had been baking all month and there had been cookies and squares and tarts and all kinds of things that Billy did indulge enjoy. He didn’t help bake anything but he really liked sampling them. He always ignored his mother’s pleas to “leave those alone” or “save some for others” or “you’ll spoil your dinner.” It was like a game to Billy. He never thought his mother was really upset. That was just what mothers do or say. The truth is that’s what Billys do or say. And Billys never think. But boy was he thinking now.
“Grandma and Grandpa’s?” His utterings would have been comical to anyone walking by who heard this all coming from a 14 year old boy with his nose pressed against the living room window of a house that was armed and alarmed by owners who took their dog and left for Christmas and left their son to Grandma and Grandpa.
“Grandma and Grandpa’s?” he asked himself again. It was a fate worse than death. They had no internet and no cable television. They had rabbit ears and got three channels and one of those was public broadcasting. Public broadcasting, Billy thought, was for toddlers and old people. He wasn’t any of those. “Great, more Christmas specials,” he said to the window. Billy thought that with his parents gone he’d at least dodge that bullet. He called that wrong.
Grandma and Grandpa’s house was on the other side of town. It was a long walk and it would not help much with Billy’s mood. Maybe they’d be gone too. Maybe there’d be another note pinned to the door passing him on to other relatives until he came full circle back to his own home and it would all have been a cruel joke and his parents with Logan would be there to greet him.
No such luck. Grandma and Grandpa were home.
“Your parents dropped off what they thought you needed. We put everything up in the spare room,” Grandma said. “Oh, and they left this note.”
Great, another note, Billy thought. Here’s where the gag would be revealed and they’d all have a good laugh…at his expense. Again, no such luck.
Billy, listen to Grandma and Grandpa. Their house, their rules. We have left you no electronics. Don’t even try your phone. We’ve cancelled your plan. No texts, no data, no calls. Don’t forget to wear your boots.
Merry Christmas.
Mom & Dad
Billy reeled with the horror. He tried his phone. Nothing worked. Emergency Service only. Would 911 consider his plight an emergency? He dashed up the stairs to the spare room. The note didn’t lie. There were no electronics. No game consoles. No hand-held game systems. No tablet, no laptop. But there were boots.
“I’m not wearing those,” he said to the room. Surprisingly, the room didn’t answer.
The next day, Billy wore the boots.
It had been a rough night. He had pressed Grandma and Grandpa for answers but they gave none. All they would say was that he was there for Christmas and they’d see about New Year’s. Nothing about Mom and Dad and Logan and his cancelled Christmas. Nothing about the presents and the dinner. Nothing about anything. He had hid out in the room. The blankets were wool and itched. Oh, and it snowed.
Overnight the landscape had turned to white and Billy’s expensive running shoes were useless. Two feet of snow and climbing.
“Doesn’t beat the seven feet of snow they had in Buffalo a few years ago,” Grandpa said as he shook Billy awake the next morning.
“What?” was all Billy could manage at seven o’clock. His eyes were hardly open and the room was too cold. “Why do old people always like it so cold”, he thought. He knew better that to at least say that out loud.
“Shovelling first,” Grandpa went on, “and then Breakfast and then shopping. Get a move on.” Grandpa whipped off the blankets before flipping on the lights and leaving the room.
“Could this get any worse?” Billy said to the room. The room was a good listener. It was not much on small talk but it didn’t laugh at him for talking to himself.
Billy struggled out of the bed and into his clothes. At least his parents had provided him with what seemed like enough clothes for a long stay. And he put on the boots and a toque and gloves and a scarf. All provided courtesy of his parents. Bundled that way, no one would recognize him. At least he had his anonymity to cling to if he wanted it…oh and he wanted it.
“This is my grandson, Billy, and he’s going to shovel your driveway. Merry Christmas.” Grandpa didn’t know anything about anonymity.
Not only did Billy have to shovel Grandma and Grandpa’s driveway but they insisted on introducing him to every elderly neighbor on the block and extending them the courtesy of Billy’s free labor. Billy wasn’t one for good deeds but Grandpa kept an eye him until everything was done. Five driveways and aching arms later, it was time for breakfast.
“Oatmeal, there’s nothing like it on a cold morning,” Grandma said as she spooned out a good sized bowl’s worth. Billy glared at it. There was no sugar. The milk was skim or non-fat or something he’d rather avoid. At least they let him have some coffee. It was too strong. There was no sugar. The milk was skim or non-fat…you get the drift.
This was really shaping up to be an awful holiday for Billy. First, no Christmas and now no sugar and some liquid that passed almost as white water. At least he had the shopping to look forward to. He had some money on him and maybe he could buy himself something to make it all passable.
They drove to the Bulk House. Everything was in bulk. Grandma and Grandpa bought fifty rolls each of paper towels and toilet paper. Oh, but there were vegetables. Billy had to heft a fifty pound sack of potatoes out to the car. That didn’t include the 20 pounds of carrots or the big bag of onions. Billy had to huddle in the back with groceries. Grandpa said his summer tires were in the trunk.
That evening, dinner consisted of fish with, you guessed it, boiled potatoes, carrots, and onions. The evening also consisted of watching a Christmas movie with Grandma and Grandpa. They insisted. It was A Christmas Carol. Of course it would be. This story is about redemption and what better tale happens at Christmas about redemption than Ebenezer Scrooge’s own? I don’t mean to hit the reader over the head with this but I thought that Billy might need some poking.
The next morning, being the day before Christmas, Billy did indeed wake to some poking. It was Grandpa again.
“Up and at ‘em, boy, it snowed another foot in the night. You know the routine. Shoveling first, then breakfast, then shopping.” Grandpa jerked the covers back again before leaving the room.
“What time does he even get up?” Billy muttered. Again, the room had no response.
Five more driveways plus Grandma and Grandpa’s. Breakfast was fried potatoes and toast. The margarine was cheap and hard. It tore the toast. Billy flavored his semi-milk with some coffee this time. It wasn’t a welcomed change.
Shopping consisted of another trip back to the Bulk House. This time it was just Grandpa and Billy. They did not go inside. Grandpa bought a Christmas tree from the man who sold them at a corner of the parking lot. There was some haggling between Grandpa and the vendor. Billy tried to hide among the pre-cut forest. Apparently this was a ritual for Grandma and Grandpa. They waited until the 24th before buying their tree. At least Billy didn’t have to suffer that too much.
Billy, however, did suffer. He counted his scratches. Guess who had to help lift it on the roof and drag it in the house and crawl underneath the tree and help balance it in the stand until Grandma declared it was perfect? Not Grandpa, I can tell you that.
You know I hate to see anyone suffer; especially at Christmas. I’d like to say I take no joy in seeing my boy Billy suffer but I don’t want to lie to you reader. Billy has to suffer. Without the suffering there’s no motivation for change. After all, haven’t I caused him enough anguish by cancelling his Christmas and packing him off to his Grandparents and then having him break his back with a shovel only to suffer yet another fruitless trip to the Bulk House where he got nothing for himself again except the scrapes he’s now counting? I thought the message of A Christmas Carol would have been plain enough for him. What’s it going to take?
After the tree decorating, Grandpa delighted in beating Billy twice at Cribbage. Billy hadn’t played in years and Grandpa made sure to collect all of the points for himself that Billy missed in error.
“Your head’s not in the game, boy,” Grandpa stated after the second defeat. At least Billy was only skunked in the second game. The first game had ended in a double skunk with Grandpa declaring that Billy should study harder in school because math obviously wasn’t his strong suit if he couldn’t realize what cards added up to fifteen.
Billy escaped. After the game he wore the boots again and trudged down the block to the corner store. Grandma had sent him there twice the day before for bread and then the watered down milk. Not only did she forget to stalk up on these when she was at the Bulk House, she couldn’t even remember everything she needed so she wouldn’t have to send him out more than once.
This time, Billy went for himself. He still had his money. He bought a soda and rejoiced in the sugar. He eyed the magazines but found he was not old enough for some and the others were nothing he’d care to read. Your corner store doesn’t usually stock in the latest gamer magazines.
While Billy was enjoying the sweetness of the soda he thought about the lack of sugar at Grandma and Grandpa’s. He bought some sugar cubes, a carton of good milk possibly 50 proof, and some coffee creamer. Given the exorbitant prices at the corner store, Billy soon found his spending money well depleted. He bought a Christmas bag with his loose change. He’d put the sugar, milk, and creamer in that and that would be his gift to his Grandparents.
Dinner was cabbage and pork-roll. Oh yes, and baked potatoes and more carrots.
The movie that night was “It’s A Wonderful Life.” It had been a while since Billy had sat through it in its entirety.
Billy lay awake long into the night. You would think that redeeming thoughts of histories of his youth or a life lived by others without him or visions of sugar plums at the very least would have been dancing in his head. No, instead he thought of this Christmas lived without him. Mom and Dad and Logan were probably on some beach somewhere or at some mountain resort thinking of anything but Billy. He began to wallow in his own misery. He piled on everything from the cancelled Christmas to the pine needles he had had to shake from his hair. Grandpa had said that wouldn’t have happened if Billy got a haircut once in a while.
Billy finally drifted off to sleep feeling thoroughly sorry for himself and wondering what type of potato would greet him for Christmas dinner…if there was a Christmas dinner.
The room was very warm when he awoke. No one had whisked away the covers. He had kicked them off himself. And it was still dark.
Billy looked about the room. There was a glow from the street light but he could only see shadows in the room.
“Hey room, Merry Christmas,” Billy called out in the dark. It was meant as sarcasm.
“Merry Christmas yourself Billy,” the room replied.
Billy bolted up in the bed. He reached over and turned on the lamp beside his bed. The light was suddenly too bright in the close darkness. Eventually the shadows became blurs and then shadows again and then he saw it…saw him…Santa Claus
“Merry Christmas Billy,” Santa said.
Billy rubbed his eyes. No, this couldn’t be. He closed his eyes tight for a few seconds and then opened them again. It was no use. He was still there. And it was Santa. Billy knew this right off. It wasn’t Grandpa or anyone else dressed up like Santa. It was the real Santa.
Billy looked Santa over. Red suit and real beard. He looked just like a thousand images of Santa he had seen in print or on television or in the movies. The image was immediately recognizable and true to his own memories of what he thought Santa looked like. Not that Billy ever thought of Santa Claus these days. That was kids’ stuff.
“Merry Christmas Billy”, Santa said again.
“You said that already,” Billy pointed out. Billy didn’t mean to be flippant but what do you say to Santa when he shows up in the middle of the night at your grandparents’ house after you’d been dreaming of your thoroughly miserable Christmas.
“And would it kill you to say it back?” Santa asked. Apparently Santa was not opposed to being flippant.
“Merry Christmas,” Billy replied, “but you can’t be…” Billy trailed off what he was going to say. Why couldn’t he be Santa Claus? Nothing else that had happened to him lately made any sense.
“Oh, but I can be and I am.” Santa looked around the room. “What, no cookies and milk?”
“I’m not a kid you know”, Billy found himself answering. “That stuff’s just for kids.” Again it was the kids’ stuff guiding his thoughts. Substitute Bah Humbug and you will understand what Billy was getting at.
“The cookies aren’t for the kids, they’re for me. I’m for the kids. But I’m not just for children Billy. I came because you need me.” Santa shook a mittened hand in Billy’s direction.
“I don’t need anything”, Billy replied in defiance. “I’ve got everything I need.” Billy shook his own hand back at Santa.
“No Christmas, potatoes galore, scratched up arms, and pine needles in your hair. I guess you do have everything.” Santa was good at stating the obvious.
Billy ran his fingers through his hair. It was true. There were still some pine needles clinging to his scalp. At least he could thank Santa for that.
“You see Billy, you really don’t have anything. Listening to me might just change that. When you have nothing to lose then you have everything to gain.” Santa sat down on the bed. “I heard that somewhere and it bears repeating.” Told you so, reader.
Billy couldn’t think of anything to say. Santa was right…on all accounts.
“You once needed me Billy and I used to come to you every year. You were always a delight when you were sleeping. Still are. I bet your parents would say that about you now. It’s the waking times that need a little polishing.”
“Thanks a lot Santa,” Billy snapped.
“It’s only the truth. Don’t blame the messenger,” Santa replied without buying into Billy’s anger. “Then you grew up. You thought you knew it all. You didn’t want anything. Or if you did, your parents gave it to you. I blame them for expelling me from your life. What do you need me for after they break the illusion? Still, you didn’t have to buy into it all and let it run your life.”
“I thought you said I needed you?” Billy asked. The sarcasm was creeping back in.
“You do. You did and then you didn’t and now you do.”
Billy looked confused.
“It’s like this”, Santa continued. “When you are little you need the magic and the wonder and I’m there for that. When you got older you didn’t need that anymore or maybe you didn’t want it. But boy do you need it now.” Santa was shaking his hand at Billy again. “You’ve lost something and it isn’t just this Christmas. You’ve lost all your Christmases. You gave them up. Thought you didn’t need them. There’s an emptiness in you that you can’t find a way to fill. No video game’s going to give you back that.”
Billy stared at Santa. He had cut Billy to the core; only because it was true. Santa was right. It wasn’t just this Christmas. Billy had walked away from all of that the first Christmas he didn’t get everything he wanted. The memory of not getting the Grim Reaper 4 video game came back to his mind. That was the morning he had built the robot. But that’s the other story.
Santa reached over to pat Billy on the arm. Billy thought about quickly pulling his arm away but he didn’t. Billy felt the touch. It was real. It was true. Everything Santa had said was true. There was truth in the words and Billy knew it. The truth was the one thing that Billy would never have thought to ask for but the one thing he needed most.
“Don’t think on it too much kid”, Santa went on. “I’ve given you a gift. It might not have been anything you wanted but sometimes it’s the things we need that are the best gifts received.”
Santa stood up and stood beside the bed for the moment looking into Billy’s eyes. He reached out to shut off the lamp. Just before he did he turned back to Billy and said “and that was a nice touch about the sugar cubes, milk, and creamer. Now go and find your own Christmas.” The light went out, the room grew colder, and Santa was gone.
Billy lay in the bed trembling for a long time. He wasn’t sure if it was the coldness of the room or what had just happened. He pulled up the blankets and hunkered down. He couldn’t be sure if what just happened really happened or if he’d been dreaming. Soon he slept again.
In the morning Billy woke to a strange sound. He didn’t recognize it right away. It was like bells in the distance and it stirred him. Church Bells? Christmas Bells? No, it was his phone. The chiming signified he had a message.
Billy snatched up his phone. It was working again. The service was back on. There were about a dozen texts from friends wondering where he was or what he got for Christmas or bragging about their own gifts. And there was a text from Mom and Dad:
Billy, there’s a gift for you at the house. We’ve disarmed the alarm and we’ve restored your phone service.
Merry Christmas.
Mom & Dad
Billy practically flew out of bed. It was Christmas and there was a gift. After dressing he ran down the stairs and called out to Grandma and Grandpa. They must have gone out or were sleeping in. He left his gift bag for them on the table. They’d find it.
Billy didn’t care that it was cold out or that it had snowed again. He was just glad he hadn’t been awoken by Grandpa hovering over him with a shovel. There was a spring back in Billy’s step and the walk home didn’t seem half as long as normal.
Billy tried his key in the lock. It opened. No alarm went off to spoil it all. But there was something. Billy smelled bacon. And there was music. Okay, it was Christmas music but he’d take that over alarms ringing. And then Logan was there jumping up at him. And Mom. And Dad.
“What?” Billy started. But it stuck in his throat.
“Merry Christmas son.” Dad was at his side pulling off Billy’s toque.
“Stamp that snow off your boots,” Mom said appearing in the hall with Grandma and Grandpa.
“Merry Christmas boy,” Grandpa said. “More snow hunh? Still, it doesn’t beat what they got in Buffalo a few years ago.”
“I know, seven feet of snow in Buffalo,” Billy replied. Billy found himself chuckling at what he said.
“You’re just in time for breakfast,” Grandma said. “Bacon and eggs and toast and waffles if you want them.”
“What, no hash browns or home-fried potatoes?” Billy asked. Billy gave off with another laugh.
“Thought you’d had your fill of potatoes?” Grandma replied.
But there were potatoes. Mashed potatoes with dinner. And turkey, And stuffing. And gravy. And just about everything that makes Christmas dinner Christmas dinner. And pie for desert. Mom’s apple and Grandma’s pumpkin. He hadn’t missed them.
Before dinner but after breakfast, there were presents. Billy hadn’t expected anything so no matter what he got, he thoroughly welcomed the presents. There was even the Grim Reaper 4 video game. Dad had found it in a retro game shop. Billy put it away. He didn’t need it right now.
In the afternoon he beat Grandpa two straight games of Cribbage. He loaded the dishwasher. He even walked Logan.
That night, Billy lay in bed and thought back on the day. He hadn’t even asked his parents what it had all been about. Had they been there the whole time? Should he have tried his key that day after school? He didn’t care. He had lost something and now he had got it back. He had found his Christmas.
Billy didn’t really know if Santa Claus had really come to him. It might have been too many potatoes or too many movies with Christmas spirts or angels. He couldn’t be sure.
“Merry Christmas room.” Billy waited for a reply. There was none and that was okay. Still, he wish he knew for sure.
The next year he took no chances and he hung up his stocking and left out cookies and milk. Logan ate them all.
The End.
70. The Passing Of George Arthur Henderson. Hard Pass. I don’t want to talk about it. Here’s a picture of my Father in the years before he died, I’ll just remember his life.
71. Me And My Grief. I still don’t want to talk about it. It took me over a month to write another blahg and two months before I processed my grief by writing a poem about it.
when my father died
when my father died
sorrow eluded me
the anger at an unexpected
yet accepted passing
two day decline
to death
shadowed
by the chaos
of this life
and to do
forcing the stack
higher
pushed to the side
hoping for each thing
to be swallowed
as natural compost
when my father died
there were no services
no prolonged goodbye
no chance at words
an anagram perhaps
of a life summed up
rearranged to a sign post
that way onward for him
or this way for the living
when my father died
I carried on
tackled some things
tossed others to the tower
tried facing forwards
sometimes a sideways glance
to the pile
checking that it was still there
all the things that still bound me
to my father
weeks passed
after he passed
and the pile shifted
fell
trapping me beneath
grief appearing
finally
again unexpected
yet accepted
all consuming
a sad song
purposefully on repeat
all things
that were just things
collapsing over me
grief and I became close
buried together
hating and fighting
biting and scratching
hating mostly
everything and everyone
selfishness and pain
my true friends
nothing else
then someone sat with me
learned of
his death
my struggles
heard the spewing
took it all in
listened
to the stories
and all the grief
given out
in gasping breaths
until it had been shared
and the rubble was just
rubble
flotsam
easier to pick through
sort into importance
or not
when my father died
I had no time
no
made no time
to break
to grieve
to fashion truths
into a grave marker
or a trail marker
when my father died
I accepted
what needed to be done
the list
at once unsurmountable
but somehow
manageable
until that last thing done
releases him from me
and all I have
is memories
and my grief
that guides me
from here to there
this place to that place
where he has gone
and sends his beacon
72. P.M.R. Polymyalgia Rheumatica. Look it up. It’s nasty at any age. I was on Prednisone for two years before weaning off at the end of June this year. I took the initials and made puns. If I had to sum it up, I’d say the Pain’s Mostly Receded but I’m always afraid it Possibly Might Return. If it does call for me again I’ll go into hiding and Post My Regrets. P.M.R. sucks. ‘Nuff said.
73. Emily’s Wedding. A Hell Of A Tether. I was floundering around with my grief and my pain and had forgotten that Emily was getting married. I managed, with the Prednisone, to get my pain under control and with the help of a Grief Counselor I addressed my grief. She suggested I find something to tether myself to and the goal of walking Emily down the aisle became that tether. If you want to see/hear a funny and moving speech from a Father who wrote nothing down, then check this out:
74. Polymyalgia Redux And More Polly Tics. Enough about the Polymyalgia and how it came back in the fall of 2019 with a vengeance. The other part of that blahg was dedicated to the fall 2019 Federal election. Now we’re going to have yet another Federal election next month. Andrew Scheer of the Conservatives is gone but Erin O’toole is leading that party now. I don’t trust him. The Liberals under Justin Trudeau are going to try to change their minority to a majority. Is it the right time to hold an election? There is still that pandemic and some people don’t want to go to the polls. Politicians Might Rally and some Politicians Might Reel. We’ll soon find out.
75. Who I Am. That’s a good question and a good place to leave off with Part 1 of This Is 100. Who I Am isn’t really a question but rather a declaration. I’m a son, a husband, a Father, a Father-In Law, a friend, a writer, a pain sufferer, a griever, a music fan, and a hundred or thousand or million other things rolled into this old body. I tried to encapsulate everything in that one blahg. I think I fell short. I also posted a 2000 video by the singer Jessica Andrews with the title “Who I AM”.
Who I am is defined and undefined. The truth is, however, like this blahg, “This Is 100”, I am a work in progress. Stay tuned.