I mean, Michael Palin is a talented comedian and frankly, was one of the
best performers in the Monty Python troupe.
The Dead Parrot sketch?
The Spanish Inquisition?
Spam?
The Lumberjack Song?
All legendary comedy bits. Add to this his work in the film A Fish Called Wanda,
and he borders on legend.
But is he qualified to be vice-president of the United States?
John McCain's surprise announcement of Palin as his vice-presidential
running mate is, well, curious.
First of all, to seek this office you have to be an American, and Palin
is a Brit. That seems problematic.
Secondly, Michael Palin has never been commander of a state national
guard, and he knows nothing about domestic commercial salmon fishing.
Sure, he's won some leg wrestling matches with the odd Islamic
fundamentalist extremist, but is he ready to be a heart beat away from
the Oval Office?
I mean, the guy's a comedian and . . . What?
It's not MICHAEL Palin?
It's Sarah Palin? The lovely young governor of Alaska less well known
than most MOHA directors?
But, if you'd rather see MICHAEL Palin perform the lumberjack song, here
you go. Personally, I'd love to see either of the Palins plus McCain perform
this at the Republican National Convention next week.
Aug 29, 2008
Interesting. Ever heard of the Oakville Oilers?
After yesterday's comment from me about MOHA and the OMHA and onerous
travel, rising gasoline prices, and the plethora of rep hockey teams
within 15 minutes of Oakville, readers pointed me to some interesting
chatter.
On another web site, renowned for its anonymous postings, vile attacks
and often cowardly commentary, is a thread about the Oakville Oilers.
This is alleged to be an Oakville-based GTHL franchise to take flight in
2009-10, running a full slate of teams through midget.
No names, no details, just gossip. But interesting for a couple of
reasons.
First, in my business you learn early that where there's smoke, there's
fire. Maybe a small fire, but still, a fire.
Second, is the even-handed commentary, and the volume of commentary,
attached to this thread by Oakville hockey parents.
I wrote what I wrote yesterday without benefit of having seen this
stuff, but it does lend credence to my theory that Oakville parents are
getting tired of hauling their kids all over creation to play rep hockey
when there's a lot of rep hockey right next door.
I'm not posting a link to the site because frankly, 99 per cent of the
other posts are fairly vile, cowardly commentary offered by the usual
brave souls who like to thump their chests with from behind a curtain of
anonymity. I won't promote their cause.
But many of you will know exactly of where I speak, and the really
clever ones among you who know how to use Google can find the thread
easily enough. There's a ton of reasons why such a development is
virtually impossible without some amendments to the OHF's Lake Ontario
Region boundaries -- and it might be simpler to resurrect the Meech Lake
Accord than have that happen.
But still. I see smoke.
- - -
I was watching the Democratic convention last night and talking on the
phone with Laura when CNN announced that singer Michael MacDonald would
be performing on stage in Denver next.
Laura said: "Well you better go! You'll need something to blog about!"
It's an inside joke.
When I first met Laura she learned quickly that I was a big fan of the
old Doobie Brothers, and not so much a fan of the newer version, which
added Michael MacDonald (What a Fool Believes, etc etc). The
running joke was that whenever he would appear -- and he became a fairly
big solo act in the 1990s -- we'd say in unison: "It's Michael
MacDonald. He ruined the Doobie Brothers."
Yes, I know. It's sad. But this is what passed for wit in our house. We
need to get out more.
MacDonald was great last night, BTW.
- - -
Obama gave a great speech last night, one which surely rocked the
Republicans because Obama is the best orator among active politicians in
America today. I found the speech fascinating in that it was big on
partisan politics and low on the sweeping majesty stuff so often
littered in acceptance speeches.
He went right into campaign mode, which was an interesting decision, no
doubt driven by the knowledge that he had the biggest primetime TV
political audience maybe in history. He wanted to define what separates
him from McCain. Voters will decide if he did.
Anyway, that's my pop analysis.
John McCain's campaign ran a very classy ad congratulating Obama, a
black man, on winning the presidential nomination and doing it on an
historic day -- the 45th anniversary of Martin Luther King's famous "I
Have A Dream" speech in Washington. That was a smart thing to do.
Interesting times ahead.
- - -
I expect I will be working through much of Labour Day Weekend, but I
hope you're not. School starts Tuesday, Chris has Dick Decloe next week,
the first Ranger rep game of the season for us is less than two weeks
away and we will soon be back in the saddle of hockey.
Bring it on.
Endless summer? Not a chance.
Enjoy your weekend.
Aug 28, 2008
While we enjoy the sunny late-August days of summer, back in Cape Breton
they've seen nothing sunny since my smile got on a plane Sunday night.
Rain, rain, and more rain. So Laura and the boys are getting a little
stir crazy, and my position on the s--t list rises higher each day.
Mornings are easy -- the boys like to sleep late and even Laura enjoys a
slow start to a day with tea and newspapers. But the afternoons become a
bigger challenge when it's too wet to golf or swim or any of that fun
stuff.
Sorry guys. But the five-day forecast for the weekend looks much better
for you. Here's hoping. I wish I was there.
- - -
My days have quickly found a routine of getting up at 6:30a, catching a
train and then working. I get home by 8p, and the last two nights I've
actually cooked for myself. Pizza Nova and Swiss Chalet are picketing
the house. I channel surf politics, baseball and tennis, listen to
music, work a little and talk on the phone. By 11:30p I'm ready to crash
and the cycle repeats.
So what I can tell you from last night is that Bill Clinton still has
his fastball -- his speech to the Dems was terrific and if you like
politics at all, I hope you saw it. He may be the best stump speaker
I've ever seen and he also gave the one of the greatest political
speeches Canada has ever heard while he was president. In the fall of
1999 at an international conference on federalism at Mount Tremblant,
Quebec, Clinton gave a reasoned and virtually bullet-proof defence of
federalism with Quebec Premier Lucien Bouchard sitting right in front of
him.
Anyway, I digress. The point is no one -- no one -- can rally a crowd or
a cause like Bill Clinton. He comes will steamer trunks of baggage, but
he can still hit big league pitching (to torture my baseball metaphor
one more time.) It was fun to watch and the Republicans have no one who
can match him.
- - -
While watching the warm up acts to Clinton (and flipping over to the
Jays and US Open tennis) I ventured way down the dial on my iPod and
rediscovered two old classic albums.
The first was Neil Young's 1972 Harvest. I listened to it twice.
Harvest may be the greatest album ever released by a Canadian --
and Neil Young is, without doubt, the greatest Canadian singer-song
writer (with apologies to Leonard Cohen and Anne Murray and Paul Anka
and Gordon Lightfoot and and and . . . His body of work spans five
decades and he's still going strong, discovered as fresh and new by
every generation that comes along. He's amazing.)
The other one I listened to was 1973's Wings' album, Band on the Run.
Probably Paul McCartney's most successful post-Beatles recording, it won
gazillions of awards. But more importantly, the music actually stands up
really well. My two least favourite songs on the record are the title
song and another AM-radio hit of the day, Jet. There are much better
songs on the LP if you take the time to listen to it -- and you should!
- - -
Pad's AA minor midget Ranger team have started pre-season skating
(without him) as have most rep teams. For kids in his age group it's an
interesting time. Major bantam and up are the years when kids start
dropping out of organized hockey -- for house league kids, they find
other interests in high school they want to pursue (football,
volleyball, beer, girls, etc.)
Rep-level players start dropping out to play house league, or to play
high school hockey, or also pursue other interests that high school
presents.
And for kids who are 15 going on 16, their school grades matter. They
have to grind the books so that when they hit Grade 11 and 12, they are
ready to compete for spots in colleges and universities, to win
scholarships, etc. And make no mistake, it's a competition.
The workload at school makes rep hockey not terribly appealing to some
kids, or their parents.
Finding yourself in Orangeville on a Monday night in January for a game
that starts at 9:30p or 10p means you don't get home until after
midnight and you're up early the next day for school.
And yet less than 20 minutes away there are at least eight minor midget
AA rep teams in Mississauga that Oakville, Brampton and Burlington are
not allowed to play with. We're in the OMHA, so we have to pack a wagon
train and head off for Guelph or Ancaster or Fergus or Georgetown or . .
.You get the idea.
And don't get me wrong. I like the OMHA. I think the hockey is better, I
love seeing the towns, and even GTHL coaches I've met speak
enthusiastically about the gritty brand of hockey the OMHA has.
I raised this months ago and I heard all the bureaucratic reasons why it
"can't" happen. That's fairly typical of Oakville in a lot of things,
not just hockey. People will line up 10 deep to defend the status quo,
or tell you why a new idea sucks, or to say why this or that won't work.
So Oakville parents have to spend $1000 a year more on gasoline
travelling around southern Ontario when we live next door to lots of
teams that are, in many instances, better than the ones we travel to
play.
It might not change this year or next or the year after that. And my
kids will be long gone from the system when it does change. But mark my
words, it will change. $1.30 gas (or $2 gas, or $4 gas) will drive the
change - - families (even OAKVILLE families) will get sick of spending
the money on travel to go to Elora on Tuesday night. It's called a
tipping point.
If it doesn't change, people will vote with their feet. Kids will bolt
from Oakville in larger numbers to play in the GTHL, and you can bet the
the GTHL and the MHL will eventually make rules to accommodate them and
their money. Or they will do something other than hockey.
Which brings me back to where I started, with the kids. If you make
hockey an expensive nuisance for the parents (gas, travel time, etc.)
and inconvenient for the kids (trying to get by on six hours of sleep)
they will leave or quit. Wait and see.
Aug 27, 2008
Channel surfing last night was a little more complicated -- not only did
I have the Democratic convention and the US Open tennis, but Roy
Halladay was pitching for the Jays last night (and wow, they actually
gave him six runs of offence for a change and he won handily.)
So, I have surfer's thumb today. I'll get over it with proper treatment.
- - -
Hillary blew the doors off the convention hall in Denver last night. A
really first-class speech on the 88th anniversary of the 19th amendment
to the US Constitution that extended the right to vote to women, Clinton
gave her unequivocal support to the party's presumptive nominee, Barak
Obama.
She could have been difficult. She could have been bitter. She could
have held back her enthusiasm.
She did none of that, and took the high road, and then some. Thousands
of Democrats are no doubt wondering why her name is not on the ticket
now instead of Joe Biden.
Speaking of elections, it's looking increasingly like Canadians might be
voting on Oct 14, which means things around here will be busier than . .
. than a news agency covering a federal election? Something like that.
Conventional thinking is that Obama is going to win the US election, and
a Democratic win will boost Liberal fortunes here, so the Tory prime
minister wants to get his election out of the way first to avoid that
prospect.
I dunno. We should know by this time next week. Predicting Canadian
elections and cabinet shuffles is only moderately more difficult than
predicting the weather in Cape Breton in January, or understanding the
Oakville Ranger rep tryouts. Chants and beads might help.
- - -
I continue to be impressed with the pace of the work being done to built
an additional rail line from Toronto to Hamilton (the construction comes
within 30 feet of my parking spot at the GO Station.) It will be good to
have additional rails lines for GO Transit to break down in.
Also, while I was gone the old Oakville Hydro building adjacent tot he
GO Transit parking lot was knocked down, giving me an unfettered vew of
. . . rubble. I think they plan to add some parking spots there.
And the Kerr Street exit off the QEW is also now gone, ending the fun
game of taking the Kerr Street exit and then turning left, seeing if you
could get to Dorval faster than the cars that took the Dorval exit. Come
on -- you know you did that. Right?
I just want the bridge on Fourth Line back. And I want it NOW.
Anyway, leave town for two weeks and the place gets a makeover. Sorta,
kinda.
- - -
Mats Sundin, if you are reading today, please call me. You're time is
up, dude.
- - -
The LPGA is in the news, and for all the wrong reasons. The premiere
women's golf circuit in the world is insisting that all it's members
speak English. The tour has a fair number of athletes who have a first
language other than English, most notably South Koreans, where some of
the world's most exciting and talented young women golfers are from.
The reason is that if the athletes can't communicate with the fans, the
media and (most importantly) the sponsors, then the tour will be in
serious financial trouble.
While I understand the economic issue, this just feels heavy handed and
wrong. As someone who has at one time or another spent many, many hours
in a mostly futile bid to learn the language of Moliere, I have an acute
understanding of the challenges of learning a second language later in
life.
I rarely watch women's golf, but when I do it's not to listen to them
speak. The same with women's tennis. Or women's beach volleyball. OK,
OK. I watch that for a different reason.
But my point is that I watch to see the athletes do athletic things.
Sponsors, on the other hand, want to be able to talk to the
participants. Every tournament has a Pro-Am day and if some big-wig CEO
shells out five figures to play with a pro with a couple of his buddies,
he's not going to enjoy it much if she can't talk to them. And he won't
come back. And therein lies the problem.
Was a dark stormy night
As the train rattled on
All the passengers had gone to bed
Except a young man with a baby in his arms
Who sat there with a bowed-down head
The innocent one began crying just then
As though it's poor heart would break
One angry man said, "Make that child stop it's noise
For it's keeping all of us awake."
--Grandma's Theme, Tradition American folk music
John Mellencamp included this on his Scarecrow album way back in the
1980s, and as I was flying to Toronto on Sunday night I couldn't get the
song out of my head. And that was because on both legs of trip a young
boy -- maybe 18 months old -- was sitting three rows behind me, as if
stalking me, screaming his head off. The kid screamed from Sydney to
Halifax non-stop. He screamed for the first 40 minutes and last 40
minutes of the Halifax to Toronto leg.
He screamed like he was being forced to sit through a MOHA board
meeting. He screamed like he'd been told that his new babysitter was
Brittney Spears. He screamed like someone just game him season tickets
to the Leafs and he had to use them. He screamed like he was told he was
moving to Georgetown.
I mean, he really, really screamed.
There's not much you can do. Throwing a soft drink at the boy won't help
(trust me.)
Laura and I have many hours of experience hauling toddlers across the
continent and all you can do is hope they fall asleep. (Gravol helps.)
Pad racked up more miles between Nova Scotia and Edmonton before he was
two than most people travel in a lifetime, and I have no doubt we
annoyed some people along the way.
Sunday made for a generally miserable flight for the rest of us and one
can only turn up the volume on the iPod so far for so long before
inflicting inner ear damage.
Having said that, a tip: if trying to drown out a screaming toddler, I
recommend Guns N' Roses (Paradise City), or if you want something
more contemporary, Linkin Park (anything).
Aug 26, 2008
I'm back.
- - -
Got to Oakville Sunday night at 11:30p. I won't slag Air Canada out of
respect for the readers whom I know work there. But it was grim.
Anyone who knows how hard it is to find a slice of pizza at 11:35p
on a Sunday night in Oakville, raise your hand.
Monday was tough. Everything I did was measured in the context of
what I was doing 24, 36, or 48 hours earlier. The GTA lost on every
count.
On the train home last night four drunk guys from North Bay, Ont., sang
David Wilcox songs before they thankfully got of at the CNE. It
wasn't pretty, but everyone was pretty good humoured about it. I
mean, been there, done that. Right?
Nerd test: if you're flipping channels between the Democratic
National Convention in Denver on C-SPAN and US Open tennis, you're a
nerd. I at least have the advantage of being able to email reporters
on site and taunt them. But I acknowledge my nerd status just the
same.
The Swiss Chalet guy missed me. Or, so he says. I'm not buying it.
I'm holding out for extra fries.
I finished the Eric Clapton autobiography. If I may summarize: he
grew up poor; he liked music; he got drunk and met women; he became
talented at being drunk and a guitar player; he resented commercial
success; he liked the money; he liked cocaine; he really liked
heroin; he really, really liked booze; with all three he was a real
swell guy; way beyond the point that most people would die, he
acknowledged he had a problem; he met a lot of women; he broke up
his best friend's marriage; he got really really drunk; he got help;
he failed; he got help; he got straight; something really awful
happened that he didn't cause; he got past it after a long time; he
did some good stuff. Oh, and he got really, really stinking rich. My
review: A good slap across the chops early on might have made all the
difference. He was a jerk. Don't waste your money on his book. He
has lots of money.
I'm doing laundry. It's not pretty.
If you order Swiss Chalet and put it in the oven while you're doing
laundry, take it OUT of the plastic tray and put it on something
that won't melt. I'm just sayin' . . . theoretically.
Jimmy Carter looks old, but has any former president ever made more
of his time as an ex-president as this man? A not-great president, a
great citizen of the world.
Caroline Kennedy. Is it just me, or is she OK? Never became a
celebrity attention whore. You have to respect that. I'd take
her to Kinoak for hot chocolate. Metler would pay. He'll buy hot
chocolate for anyone. I've seen it.
I should have ordered two half chicken dinners. They probably have a
rule about that.
Caroline's introducing her uncle Ted's tribute. Oh my. Biggest.
Ovation. For. A. Drunk. Ever.
Jankovic is winning in straight sets.
John McEnroe is one of the three best colour commentators in
television today. He may be simply the best.
What's the deal on Tide HE? Special overpriced detergent for
overpriced washing machines? HE? Is that like High Definition
detergent? Anyone know? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?
Tomorrow is recycling day. I have NOTHING to put out. I'm gonna
stand on the sidewalk with my hand on my hips and smile smugly, with
my head moving slowing from side to side, nodding. I'll be so smug.
I'm saving the planet for the whales. And I don't mean Charles and
Camilla. Next week, the whales are on their own again. (Update: I
had a big bin of unread Oakville Beavers and Oakville Today that I
did put out. Does anyone actually read Oakville Today? It's usually
in pieces on my lawn.)
Ted's done. Michelle Obama up next. Time to check the laundry. Later dudes.
- - -
There's an interesting piece in the Globe this morning on kids and
sports and year-round training. The emphasis is on hockey and the hook
for the piece is the decision last week by Stefan Legein -- an Oakville
kid --
to retire from hockey at 19.
The premise explored was, naturally, burnout, though Legein has not
addressed why he decided to take a break.
Interesting question, with no easy answer.
Every kid is different and I know kids who sign up for summer 3-on-3 at
Canlan and go to the rink every night with their gear waiting to sub on
a team needing bodies. That doesn't sound like a kid having hockey force
fed to him/her.
On the other hand, there's no question that there are kids out there
doing summer hockey and whatnot because a parent thinks they need to
keep their "edge." Whatever that is.
Hang around a rink sometime and listen to the way some AAA parents of 9
and 10 and 11 year old kids talk. A conversation among Oakville parents
I overheard at a rink in Brampton last winter was, in a word,
disgusting. They slagged kids on their own team like they were escaped
convicts.
I remember reading Wayne Gretzky -- he played hockey in the 80s and 90s
with some success -- say once that at the end of hockey season he threw
his skates in the closet and he played baseball (his first love) from
dawn to dark.
Like I said earlier, all kids are different and there's no right answer
for everyone.
Our experience? Pad played a couple of seasons of summer hockey at
Canlan but bailed out in favour of rep lacrosse. He hasn't had his
skates on since April and I don't think he's missed them. Minor midget
AA is starting up and he will be in better shape from lacrosse than a
lot of players, I have no doubt. As for his edge? I don't worry about
his "edge." Whatever that is.
Chris plays a limited 10-week 3-on-3 shinny season organized by parents
that ended a month ago. He LOVES it. Chris can't wait to get to the
rink, and he too, played lacrosse in the summer.
The Globe article talks about parents paying $5000 for hockey camps and
training. I guess if you can afford it (I can't) then, well, go nuts.
Will it improve your kid as a player? Maybe. Will it get him to the NHL?
No. Not in my view. Good athletes become the best players with good
coaching. If your kid isn't a good athlete, no amount of camps or
training will make him one. He may have fun, or he may burn out. But it
won't get him to the NHL.
In any given season there are 4,000 kids playing hockey in Oakville. The
chance that even one of them will go to the NHL is remote and shrinking
as European players take more and more places in the drafts.
If your motivation is to get your get to the NHL, seek counseling. You
have a problem.
All kids should be encouraged to chase dreams, whether they are 8 or 12
or 15 or 19. As a parent, my job is to make sure they have fun and they
are safe and they can chase those dreams as long as they like. We get
them where they need to be. We support the coaches and team staff. If
extra ice time and some Dick Decloe training makes them a little better,
great. They'll enjoy the game a little more if they have more skills to
compete with. It's also part of my job to keep them busy -- in sports,
out of courts, as the saying goes.
That's what works for us. Your mileage may vary. But my retirement
planning isn't built around an NHL signing bonus.
(Eds note: This is your Monday update. Unless I get inspired on the
train in the morning. And like, don't bet on it.)
- - -
It's Sunday afternoon and we're kind of catching our breath. We packed
up and left Ingonish this morning, always a bit of a mournful exercise,
and it was especially so because of the blazing sun and the promise of
another perfect day. But if there was good news, it was that we were
collectively almost "perfectly-days'd out" after the run we had in the
last week.
When last we left you, our whale watching was postponed and golf lesson
abandoned.
Then came Friday.
Friday was the type of day you think about in January, when your arm is
tried from trying to scrape the ice off your windshield and your head is
full of agenda items for big meeting or a detail that needs to be
checked on a contract or whatever your world presents. Friday was the
type of day that as a father, you think about when you're pushing a baby
carriage around the block or holding a colicky baby and you think, "some
day I'm going to go golfing with this boy, just us. It will be great."
Friday was, simply put, that day.
Pad and I arrived at the Highland Links for our 8:10a tee time to be
informed that we'd be playing as a twosome, just us. The sky was a
brilliant clear blue -- vacation blue, to regular readers -- and there
wasn't even a breath of wind. It was 12 degrees when I got up at 7a. It
was 22 when we teed off, the temperature hit 28 in short order.
The Highland Links is a bear of a course and on queue, the starter
cautioned us that there were three bears on the course and if we saw
them we were told what to do. We never did.
The highlight of the day was on the par-3 third hole, about 155 yards. I
hit a high seven iron that landed on the front edge, took one small jump
and rolled hole-high, about 12 feet left of the hole. The Foursome in
front of us were watching and yelled their approval.
The best was yet to come.
Pad stepped up and also hit a seven, that landed a little short but
caught a wondrous bounce off a bank, and then rolled right at the hole,
and stopped 18 inches short. The guys in front of us REALLY enjoyed that
one, as did I.
Pad tapped in for his deuce, I missed mine on the top edge. An older
gentleman in the group in front yelled back at Pad, "Great shot!" and he
waved and smiled.
I yelled back.
"That's MY kid!"
The old gentleman grinned and gave me the thumbs up.
I haven't had as much fun golfing in ages. A perfect four and half
hours.
- - -
By the end of the day, the events on the golf course, as grand as they
were, would be relegated to second-tier status. After a quick lunch
after golf, we headed off for the whale watching excursion. It was a
highlight not of the day or week, but of the year and the decade.
The Zodiac Whale Tours depart from the modest government wharf at north
Ingonish. Patrons put on survival suits (they float) and the pilot then
takes you out of the harbor, toward the open waters of the Cabot Strait
off Neil's Harbour.
Here's Pad in his suit, looking like he's heading for the flight deck of
a space shuttle.
When we headed out Chris sat on the bow and had the best view of
everything. There's something to be said for being the youngest (and in
this instance, smallest. He better enjoy it -- his days of being
smallest are closing fast.)
I think when most people -- me included -- think of whale watching you
think, oh, that sounds interesting, and not much else. But this was
really a moving experience.
The first animals we saw were porpoises -- small and playful, but still
thrilling to us. We had no idea what we were in for.
The pilot was on the radio talking to fishermen, asking whether they had
seen the pod of
finback whales that had been feeding in the area. Yes,
replied one boat. About a mile north of me. Off we went.
Finback whales are the second largest creature in the world, after the
blue whale.
We got the appointed area and the pilot cut the engine. The ocean was
about as flat as you're likely to find Atlantic water and we bobbed
silently in a soft rolling sea.
The pilot -- a bit of a character and showman -- cooed into the void,
calling for the whales to appear.
"Come on little guys. Don't be shy. You know you want to see us."
We just sat for about three minutes and then off to the left, about 500
metres away ---SHWOOOOSHHHHH -- the sound of a whale surfacing and
blowing through it's blow hole. We all turned in time to see the massive
spout of mist and water and a big dark back submerging. The pilot
started the boat and we raced over.
It's really hard to do justice to these animals with words. What you see
above is about the most you see of a finback whale in the wild. They
don't jump out of the water like Orcas -- but if you were 60 to 75 feet
long and weighed 75 tonnes, you wouldn't jump a lot either.
After surfacing and taking several deep blows, or breaths, they submerge
again. And they're gone. They can stay gone for 10 minutes or longer, so
we waited. And waited.
And then that sound again, and off about 400 metres, more spouts.
Honestly, it was like being in the middle of a bunch of submarines.
I was told by the locals that this image, above, is a tough one to get
-- you can clearly see spouts from four whales, almost simultaneously.
It looked, and sounded way more impressive in person.
Here's another, with three spouts.
At the closest we got within maybe 25 feet of a whale, which for me is
close enough to a 60-foot creature. And it's hard to express but there
was an overwhelming sense of calm -- there was never a sense that as
large as these things are that they posed a threat to us, or more
importantly that they sensed any harm from us. You could just tell.
I found it to be quite an enlightening hour and 15 minutes. Three miles
offshore, the gannetts are diving for fish, the whales are feeding;
there's a whole other world out there at our doorstep, no doubt annoyed
to some measure about what humans are doing to the planet, and who could
blame them?
As I mentioned, finback whales are the second largest creature in the
world, after the blue whale. If you ever get the chance to see one, go.
Before it's too late.
- - -
Saturday was 30-plus degrees, and sunny in a relentless,
you-can-run-but-you-can't hide kind of way. But we did run -- into the
ocean, out of the ocean, repeat until tired.
As Pad said, it was "stupid hot."
We have friends who have a cabin down the beach from where we stayed
this week (actually, the blue place in the photo above) and we had
dinner there Saturday night. The light on the beach and the hills beyond
was perfect. Here's the view.
Laura and the boys are spending another week in Ben Eoin with her folks.
Duty calls and I'm headed back to Toronto. Within 24 hours I'll be
bitching about GO Transit and all of this will feel like it happened
weeks ago, not hours ago.
Life is funny.
If you're at all familiar with an early 1980s film, Local Hero,
that's exactly my state of mind right now. If you're familiar with it, I
recommend you rent it some evening. A wonderful movie.
We stopped en route from Ingonish to Ben Eoin at a favourite take-out
place for a feed of fried clams, which went some distance to improving
my disposition. Always check to make sure you're getting whole clams.
Clam strips aren't worth the bother.
- - -
Oh. The Olympics are over. We had the closing ceremonies on the TV while
we packed up this morning. Canada won a bunch of medals (18) and
finished tied for 13th or something. More medals than Canada won in
either Athens or Sydney. All very exciting, of course. No word on how
the Chinese people locked away without benefit of trial or
representation are doing, and not much word on awarding medals for free
speech and breakthroughs in basic human rights. Why of all the places on
Earth they could hold the Olympics did they decided on China? (Um, the
answer is money. It always is. Human rights and advancements in free
speech were not part of the math.)
If you're interested in more, read
this from the Boston Globe.
- - -
Less cynically, I asked Chris this morning if he thought we'd all be in
Cape Breton watching the Olympics in London in 2012. He said he thought
there would be just me and Laura and him. "What about Pad?," I asked.
"Oh, he'll be 18 so he'll have his own house. That's the rule."
Hmm. Interesting rule (and maybe not a bad one.) Who's rule is this I
asked?
"Homer Simpson," said Chris. "You turn 18 and you're out the door!
That's the rule!"
OK. I'm writing it down.
Aug 22, 2008
No whale watching on Thursday because of high winds, and again not a
great beach day because of the temperature. Laura slept a little later
than usual, the kids slept in longer, and I did two conference calls with Toronto,
because I miss them so much.
Once we realized the 1:30p whale excursion was a no-go, we did the
sensible thing and went out to lunch, and then hiked the Middle Head
trail that takes you about 2.5 kilometres out to a rocky point literally
in the middle North Bay and South Bay.
Yesterday's hike in the river valley was fairly true to old fire roads,
so it was mostly level. We encountered one other person on the trail.
Thursday's hike was on the one hand more arduous -- hilly, narrow paths
snaked with tree roots and roots, waiting to snare an ankle -- but there
must have been 50 other people on the trail coming and going. It was
more like a nature walk than a hike per se, but there were no
Blackberries or PSPs or laptops or blogs.
One reason the trail is popular is its proximity to Keltic Lodge, the
area's only true resort hotel -- pool, spa, gourmet dining room, etc.
The other reason is the spectacular vistas off the trail, which at times
are breathtaking and intimidating.
The good people at Parks Canada have taken care to post warnings for
people like, um, Chris.
When they suggest the cliffs are dangerous they are not kidding and it's
really easy to find yourself getting way too close to the edge. The
cliffs are impressive in that often, there is virtually no toe hold to
grab should you make a bad decision and find yourself in trouble. Below,
Pad inspects the view from a safe distance.
One of the things that will tempt you into looking over the edge is the
wildlife. Like this big fat gray seal sunning itself in one of the coves
at the bottom of the cliffs. We were hoping to spot some whales a little
further from shore, but the seal was good enough to hold our attention
on Thursday.
On the hike back to the car we also saw a very large bald eagle. We kept
waiting for it to take flight, and I think it kept waiting for us to put
the camera away. So, this is the best we came up with. Again, still very
cool to see a creature like this in the wild.
Oh. And rainbows. It never really rained over the past two days but
there was some mist at times, even when it was sunny. So, there were
rainbows. It's getting that you can't swing a dead cat here without
seeing a rainbow. Or marine mammals. Or bald eagle. Or sea birds diving
head first into the bay for herring. On second thought, it's a pretty
spectacular place. This was the view of the rainbow from our deck.
Pad and I are up early for golf Friday. And then we immediately take
another run at the Zodiac boat whale tour thing. Weather is forecast to
be awesome bordering on spectacular. Hopefully we'll have some
interesting pictures for a weekend blog update and no whales (or
Oakville residents) will be injured in the process.
Till then, cheers.
Aug 21, 2008
We never did get the golf lesson for Pad. There's no driving range at
the Highlands Links, but the pro has a practice area off site some
place. He told us to meet him at the post office at the appointed hour
and we'd drive there. We waited and waited and waited, but he never
showed up.
Turns out that tiny Ingonish has two post offices, and we were at the
wrong one. That's the way life goes sometimes.
So Pad dragged himself out of bed at the unseemly hour of 9a -- imagine!
-- for a 10a lesson that never happened. I offered to reschedule but he
said he'd rather sleep in.
He has truly become a teenager.
All of which is to say there was no golf at all yesterday -- or today
for that matter.
The weather stayed sunny but the thermostat was dialed back to about 18
degrees, which meant it wasn't an attractive beach day either. So Laura
put on her boots and took us all on a hike up the Clyburn Valley, a
wonderful old-growth birch canyon that follows the Clyburn Brook (it's
more like a river) up into the highlands to the ruins of an old gold
mine. We did about 3.5 kilometres in -- which is most of the way --
before turning back down the trail. Chris said seven kilometres was
plenty for him.
Here's a shot of the boys by the creek -- it give you a partial sense of
the valley.
A little further down the canyon we were able to get right on the river
bed and --wait! what's that? an old log? Let's throw rocks at it. And we
did. It's a guy thing. Laura patiently waited.
When we turned to walk back, Chris walked with his mother the whole way
and she said he chattered the whole time. If you know Chris, then you
know this isn't unusual.
Pad walked with me and I couldn't have dragged a complete sentence out
of him with a tractor. He'll be 15 next month and most of his
communication is done in single-syllable bursts. Though only separated
by three years, the boys are now often separated by diverging interests
and priorities. The days of turning them loose on the family room floor
with 10,000 pieces of Lego are long, long gone. In spite of that they
share their passion for sports, and they both love guitar, and Chris
learns much of what he knows about music and pop culture from his older
brother. They get on remarkably well and the sort of brawls that can
highlight brotherly relationships in these years have, thankfully, been
avoided thus far.
In the old Bugs Bunny cartoons of my youth there was a reel with a
bulldog and a much smaller, energetic, yappier pup. "What are we gonna
do today Spike? Huh Spike? Huh? Huh? Wanna chase some cats?" Spike was
always indifferent, or so it seemed. At the end of the cartoon you found
it was not actually the case. It reminds me of the boys.
When we were walking back and almost off the trail, Chris decided he was
going to run the rest of the way. It just struck me as a nice photo of
two brothers and the younger one working hard to keep up, or ahead.
- - -
It's still sunny today, but not much warmer, and very windy. Our next
golf game is scheduled for Friday morning -- Friday and Saturday are
supposed to be major league nice here with sunny skies and temperatures
hitting 26 or 27.
The main event today is a whale watching expedition in a zippy Zodiac
boat. We're all quite pumped up about this. I'll let you know how it
goes because right now it's really windy. Wind and water means, prepare
to get wet.
Aug 19, 2008
Today was better, weather-wise, than Monday, and Monday was amazing. It
was about 27 and sunny today with a better onshore wind, meaning great
waves and warmer water.
Me and the Padman were up early for our tee time at the Highland Links,
a bear of a course if you ever get the chance but blessed with some
breathtaking vistas. Me and Pad stopped just short of bringing the
course to its knees, unless maybe it fell down laughing at us. I managed
to play a stretch on the back in one over over five holes, but the rest
of my day was unremarkable. Pad's getting a lesson from the local pro
tomorrow, and while he does that I'll be doing things with my laptop,
sadly. No, not blogging.
We lit a bonfire on the beach last night and met some folks from Ajax.
Nothing like fire, marshmallows and kids to create an instant mixer.
Chris gives his review to one of his creations, below:
And we were treated to a sight the likes of which I can't ever recall
seeing in all the times I've been to Ingonish -- a moon rise over North
Bay. It was so slow at first I thought it was the light from a cruise
ship passing by in the gulf, but it was the moon. Orange and bright it
soon dominated the evening sky and cast a light across the water that,
as a more famous writer once said about a different time of year, it
gave a luster of midday to objects below.
Naturally I tried valiantly to capture this wonder for loyal blog
readers to enjoy, but I failed. Shooting an image of the moon in near
darkness is not one of my strengths.
Take my word for it though. It was cool.
We spent the afternoon on the beach in the pursuit of nothing in
particular and watched the gulls dive for herring with precision that
our Olympic divers would do well to emulate.
More of the same tomorrow, we hope.
Aug 18, 2008
We woke -- correction -- I woke (everyone else was sleeping) to a
brilliant Cape Breton morning. No pelting rain in sight, at least for
the next couple of days, although anyone who has ever been to Nova
Scotia knows that can change in about a minute.
Anyway, here's the view this morning from the front porch.
That big bright thing in the sky is apparently called "sun." Weird.
- - -
We arrived here about 5:30p last night and were delighted to find that
absolutely nothing had changed in the 12 months since we were last here.
Ingonish is a state of mind as much as it is a geographic location.
Everyone has a such a place in their lives I think, whether it's a
favourite lake north of Toronto, a mountain retreat, a rustic camp in
the woods, whatever. This is ours.
- - -
A bit of a travelogue to amuse you -- the big news on the trip here
yesterday was that there's a new ferry at Englishtown -- a small village
on the Cabot trail where travellers pay $5 (until a few years ago it was
50 cents) to cross the narrow channel that separates St Annes Bay from,
basically, a slow route to Ireland. Below is the line of cars (I think
there were seven in total) waiting for the ferry at Englishtown. On the
other wide the ferry lands on a sand bar and from there you have about a
40 minute drive to Ingonish, up and down the sides of cliffs and hills.
Yes, a bridge would make more sense. It's Englishtown. Please turn your
clocks back accordingly.
Once you get off the ferry the drive is scenic but uneventful until you
get to Cape Smokey, where you basically go from sea level to about 700
feet up in about two kilometres.
I asked Laura to snap some pics as we drove up Smokey, following a
rented van full of tourists who wisely took their time after narrowly
missing two moose that were standing in the road about 10 minutes before
we took this photo. We narrowly missed them narrowly missing the moose,
so there is no photo of the cow and her young calf.
The thing about this drive up Smokey is that the other side of the guard
rail is pretty much straight down. So, in the following photo, if you
miss the hairpin turn, you'd better be taxiing a plane, not driving a
car. Otherwise, you're on the news, dude.
We and the van full of tourists both made it around the bend OK. If you
look out the side over the guard rail (I don't recommend the driver do
this) this is what you see.
- - -
That about covers it from here. I understand the Olympics roll on on the
other side of the planet and Oakville continues to alternate between sun
and rain and sun. We're going to the beach, which is 60 feet away and
deserted. The commute will be fairly easy and this afternoon I plan to
pick up a book (Clapton -- The Autobiography) and fall asleep with it on
my nose.
Later.
Aug 17, 2008
Eds Note -- Limited Internet access means no time to do hyperlinks.
Sorry
We woke up Saturday morning to the sound of a pelting rain -- if I wrote
songs, I'd write one called "Pelting Rain" and it would serve as the
soundtrack for the summer of 2008 thus far.
By the time we got organized enough to pack the car the rain had stopped
-- the bad news was that meant I actually had to go out and pack the
car. It was not easy.
It never is, but it was more challenging this time because Pad and I had
flown directly into Halifax, meaning there was no opportunity to double
up on suitcases and conserve space in Ben Eoin. Plus, my golf clubs came
in a big-hard-shell travel case, which takes up a lot of room. But
protecting the Taylor Made r580 is important.
Anyway, I managed to get everything in and there was enough room left
over for maybe a baseball hat.
Chris, who always has the best words to put thing in perspective stood
in the street surveying the back of the borrowed SUV.
"Dad," he said. "You must have been very good at Tetris if you could fit
all that stuff in there."
You bet buddy. I'm the Tetris packing champ.
- - -
We did get our golf in on Friday and we had a great time. Ashburn's new
course is a bit of a beast and it was particularly unkind to my older
son, but he endured the ugly holes with quiet frustration and good
humor, traits I will say I did not have as a 15-year-old golfer.
The course didn't treat the rest of us much better but after the first
five or six holes I actually played pretty well from tee to green -- it
was the hands of stone which defined my short game that did me in.
Hugh and Kevin were both pretty good off the tee and like me both found
creative ways to inflate their scores with errant chips and putts and
other such things.
The beer afterward was cold and cleansing and as always the trip to
Ashburn was a highlight of my time in Halifax. I've been a member there
for 26 years and when I walk into the pro shop, the guy behind the
counter still looks up and says hi to me like he saw me three days ago,
not a year ago.
I like that.
- - -
We woke up today to -- guess? anyone? anyone? Bueller? -- a pelting
rain. Actually, a driving rain. Ben Eoin is a soggy, wet corner of Cape
Breton and I'm not going to pack the car for Ingonish until the rain
stops. We will head off for Ingonish and seven nights right on the beach
and what represents the only vacation that is selfishly just for the
four of us alone. Golf, hiking, whale watching, football and lacrosse on
the beach, evening bon fires by the bay, smores and tall tales around
the fire, lots of sleeping in for those so inclined, lots of time to
read non-business things, and generally relaxing. The weather forecast
is mixed. The enthusiasm is clear and sunny.
- - -
Canada's medal drought came to its inevitable end and right now we have
seven medals, including two gold. It's funny how during the Olympics we
all actually start to care about where we rank against the superpowers,
and against countries closer to our size. Generally in the summer games
we compare poorly -- that's no intended slight to the athletes. The
results tell the story. Australia made a decision prior to hosting the
2000 summer games that it was going to be a summer power, and they were
-- and still are, despite a population and economy smaller than
Canada's.
Our test will come in Vancouver in 18 months. I think the departure of
Ken Read from the alpine ski program is a somewhat ominous development,
given that under his leadership the program was again putting a premium
on excellence and winning.
We shall see.
In the meantime, optimism reigns supreme for Canada over the next week.
We'll be cheering too.
- - -
Michael Phelps' incredible run to true Olympic glory ended in Beijing
with his eighth gold medal. His performance defines what it is to be a
champion.
With his medley relay team in third place when he hit the water for the
third leg of the race, Phelps took over and handed off to the anchorman
a lead the Americans would never give up.
Phelps set seven world records and one Olympic record en route to eight
gold medals. He achieved a personal best in every event he competed in.
If that's not a champion, I can't imagine what is. I hope the kids --
all the kids -- were paying attention. The last time someone did
something like this was almost four decades ago in Munich.
Aug 15, 2008
Golf was rained out yesterday. We were on the practice tee under ominous
skies when the skies went from ominous to wet. Very, very wet. So, that
was that.
The original plans to have the women folk meet us at the club for steaks
and merriment gave way to plans for an evening out at a downtown bistro,
which was a big hit. Pad was a little disappointed he didn't get to
battle test his new Cobra driver, but the sun is shining now and he'll
get to let the big dog run later today.
This is our last full day in Halifax -- tomorrow we'll be decamping for
Cape Breton. A one night stop in Ben Eoin to load up on provisions and
then off to the highlands for a week. The weather this summer has been
an adventure here as it has in Toronto, so what the Cape Breton
highlands will hold for us, we don't know.
Laura and I could be happy just staring at the waves falling on the
beach in a blizzard, but for the sake of the boys I hope we get some
decent beach weather.
Me and Pad will tackle the Highland Links, one of Canada's toughest and
most beautiful golf courses, and we're booking a Zodiac boat trip to see
whales. Some good books, some hearty meals, long walks on the virtually
deserted beaches.
I can't wait.
I gotta run. I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep . .
.
Aug 14, 2008
I've only been on vacation for three days and I'm already having trouble
remembering which day it is (I got the date wrong yesterday -- thanks to
all who pointed it out). I think that's a good start.
There were no sporting events on the agenda yesterday but my sons wanted
to go to Golf Town to sample the toys and Pad emerged with a new
Cobra driver that is, as a friend of mine says, as big as a
Volkswagen on a stick.
We'll find out later today whether it works in competition as well as it
did on the test range when we head out to tackle Ashburn Golf Club's new
course, site of two or three Canadian amateur championships and the home
course of my youth. I maintain my membership there with out-of-province
status (which makes it a lot cheaper but still lets me and my friends
onto the property when I'm home. I'm sure the powers that be regret
that.)
- - -
The other adventure of the day was IT related. I can run, but I can't
hide.
The motherboard on my dad's laptop fried itself so I took it in for an
estimate on repairs and the estimate came back: not worth it. So then we
set about replacing it with a newer model and getting it configured and
what not. All of which was remarkably easy and my dad is once again
reading the baseball sections of North America's finest newspapers.
We celebrated with brownies
- - -
Driving in Nova Scotia is different than driving in southern Ontario. In
the Toronto area if you're approaching an exit on 300 metres down the
highway, a car two kilometres behind you will race to try to cut you off
and make the exit before you. In Nova Scotia, the first car would slow
down to a crawl on the off chance that the car two kilometres behind it
might perhaps want to exit ahead of it. It's not uncommon for drivers in
Halifax to stop at the mere sight of a pedestrian, again on the off
chance of someone perhaps, maybe, wanting to cross a street.
So, in this context Pad commented the other day as we got on a highway
that driving in Halifax is nothing like driving in southern Ontario.
Noting that we were travelling 110 kilometres an hour and passing every
car on the road, he laughed.
"In Toronto, if you go 110 kilometres an hour you wouldn't pass anyone
-- everyone would pass you!"
Yes. They're all crazy.
- - -
How many gold medals has Michael Phelps won? 30? 40? I dunno. More than
Canada, that's for sure.
Read all about his amazing run to record medal counts
here.
Read all about Canada's dismal showing
here. It's not good. Better things are predicted for the weekend and
next week.
Do we care?
- - -
If you go into a Burger King and see an employee taking a bath in one of
their giant stainless steel sinks, run. The bad news is that it wouldn't
be the first time as folks in Xenia, Ohio could tell you. Read more
here. Feel free to insert your own joke about the home of the
Whopper.
Aug 12 13, 2008
We arrived in Nova Scotia and I've been too busy eating to sit at the
laptop and bore you to tears with our adventures. Me and Pad hit the
road Monday morning and had no trouble getting to Pearson in spite of
departing at the launch of rush hour. We dumped the car at Park n' Ride
and boarded the bus for T1. The first heavy traffic of the day we saw
was outside the terminal as the taxis jockeyed for position and blocked
off everything.
Once inside the terminal the next traffic jam was at baggage drop --
we'd printed our boarding passes the night before but Air Canada's new
baggage policies dictate that all bags have to be weighed so Air Canada
can suck a few more dollars out of passengers for overweight luggage.
And this process does nothing to speed your transit through the airport.
The third traffic jam was at security, which if you travel much you will
know is very typical at Pearson on a weekday morning, especially Monday.
I got through fine but Pad had so many gizmos in his pack -- iPods,
games, etc. -- that he got sidelined for a thorough check, which went
fine.
Once on the plane, the very good news was that we had no one in the
middle seat between us and we each slapped on our iPods and promptly
ignored one another for the remainder of the flight.
- - -
The we arrived in Halifax. And then we started to eat. My mother should
have been Italian or Jewish because no one gets in or out of the house
without a meal. And mother mother can bake -- I mean really bake
-- so Laura's birthday was belatedly marked with lemon meringue pie made
from scratch, and she added on my favorite, strawberry rhubarb pie, just
in case any one was bored with the lemon offering. And of course, there
were brownies.
I actually had one meal this week that consisted entirely of pie and
brownies. On vacation, these are two of the essential food groups.
- - -
Tuesday dawned with ominous gray skies and plans for golf. By 8:15a a
light but steady rain was falling but -- no worries. A friend we were
going to play with said he knew of a place in the Annapolis Valley where
it never rained. It was a 75 minute drive to Eagle Crest Golf Club near
Kentville, through wind and driving rain. And when we arrived, the
parking lot was dry. We got a little heavy mist a couple of times but
nothing serious and we indeed got our 18 holes in.
My front nine may have been the most forgettable stretch of golf I have
ever played (which is saying something), but things got better on the
back and my earlier tendency to resemble a roto-tiller gave way to some
approaching golf. The weather guru had a very good day, just missing
breaking 80, and Pad and Kevin (our host in Halifax) were variations of
me -- kind of up and down. But it was a fun afternoon and we laughed a
lot and no one got wet.
As a friend always says, "it's all good."
- - -
I've have been happily out of the news cycle for a couple of days but
one of the more appalling items to pass over the Internets in the last
24 hours is the story of Yang Peiyi. She's the seven-year-old sweetie
who sang "Ode to The Motherland" at the Beijing Games opening ceremony
on Friday night -- or so we thought.
In a ham-fisted Communist take on the
Millie Vanelli scandal of years ago, the morons in charge deemed
Yang wasn't cute enough to be on TV as the face of China's future. They
scoured the available minions and came up with a more acceptable sock
puppet, pretty little Lin Miaoke, 9, who moved her lips to a recording
of Yang singing.
The news of this has created quite a stir and has Chinese officials and
Olympic apologists defending the move and downplaying the significance
of the move.
Bull.
It's all propaganda and it's a 20-20 view into the wormy black hearts of
both the Chinese politburo and the spineless Olympic apologists. It's an
embarrassment for the people of China, who deserve better, even from
their totalitarian regime.
Good grief, have we had enough rain yet? When I drove Chris and Laura to
the airport Thursday morning it rained so hard we could barely see. And
all weekend in Hamilton it was sun then rain then sun. Last night's
lightning show was fun to watch but made me a bit nervous running back
and forth to the BBQ (which is under a tree). Pad and I agreed that
wasn't really smart but as I noted: I have lightning speed. Those bolts
could never catch me.
Yeah right.
- - -
Pad and I are wheels up for NS tomorrow and our house sitter arrives
from the east later today. We usually coordinate it so that relatives
from the east can visit here and use the house, and that way the place
is never empty. But aside from cleaning up for that visit, I've got
laundry and packing to do, though not much as I think we're in pretty
decent shape on that front.
I can usually pack well enough to get me through a work assignment,
although I have been know to forget the pants to a suit, for example.
I'm a big-picture kind of guy. Detail work -- like, um, remembering
pants -- is someone else's forte.
- - -
I will update the blog sometime Monday after arrival in NS, but I'm not
sure when that will be. After lunch certainly, so today's entry will
have to pass as your morning coffee reading for Monday.
- - -
Under the category of, I Thought of That First: Have you seen the new
Nike ad? The one with all the images from the 1970s, 80s, 90s etc? John
McEnroe, Michael Jordan etc etc set to a song that repeats "I've got
soul but I'm not a soldier."
I have been known to make year-end videos for teams I coach or have some
involvement with (although I haven't done it lately, other than my
parents' 60th wedding anniversary last year.)
Anyway, I was going to do one for the bantam 1 Hawks lacrosse team last
summer and had started rough production work and the song I was using
was . . . . All These Things I've Done, by The Killers,
which is the song in the that new Nike ad.
The big finish was going to be a rapid montage of image from the season,
with the lyrics coming on the screen from the final stanza:
While everyone's lost, the battle is won
With all these things that I've done
All these things that I've done
See? It's about learning and finding redemption and victory in the face
of defeat? Get it? Get it? Anyone? Bueller?
So, would someone at Nike pay me big bucks to put emotional pictures to
meaningful music? Because I have a lot of ideas like this. And for a
million dollars, I'll move to Oregon. Nike, you know where to find me.
You can view the Nike ad below. Mine would have been better!
- - -
Best t-shirt I saw this weekend in Hamilton was one a midget player
humping his goalie equipment into the rink:
"Playboy is a poor excuse for porn."
Cracked me up.
- - -
Brett Favre finally got his trade and the good news is that he won't
have to have his stylist redo all his colours for him because he'll
still be wearing green. I'm sure that was an important element of
finding a place for him to play.
The Packers sending their hall of fame QB to the Jets is a big deal for
Wisconsin, and it's interesting to football fans, but it would have been
way bigger if they did it 10 years ago when he was in his prime.
Like when, almost 20 years ago to the day, the Oilers sent Gretzky to
Los Angeles. Now that was a trade!
I was travelling in Nova Scotia covering a provincial general election
when I heard the news and it was a stunner.
If you want to read more on Brett and his most excellent Big Apple
Adventure, click
here.
If you want to get all nostalgic and realize how fast 20 years can slide
by, click
here to recall the Gretzky trade.
- - -
I didn't watch much of the opening ceremonies of the Olympic game -- I'm
not much on dancing and spectacle. But Friday night while I was getting
dinner ready I reminded Pad that it was on and he tuned it in.
He actually came into the kitchen and said: "Dad, I know this stuff is
usually pretty boring but once you start watching it's mesmerizing."
This from a 14 year old.
So I watched the big finale.
I'd feel better about it if I thought that anyone carrying a "Free
Tibet" sign would not be locked up and have their knuckles crushed. But
that's just me.
- - -
The PGA Championship -- the minor major as it's known -- is supposed to
conclude today outside Detroit. Detroit is enjoying the same weather we
get which is to say, they're under water. No clue if they will get it
done today.
Usually I'm catching glimpses of the PGA on TV in airport terminals as
we come home from vacation. This year is one of the latest starts we've
had for our summer break, so it's a different feeling.
But so far the weather has sucked big time in NS too (except for the
week that Laura and the boys were there in July.) So we're hoping
mind-August is a charm.
Aug 9, 2008
Another interesting day for the midget 2 Hawks in Hamilton at the
provincial championships.
Every game today was an elimination game, which adds an element of
pressure for the teams and adds a few decibels of volume for many of the
parents.
Oakville had a 9a game with Milton, who advanced by virtue of a an 11-0
pasting of Six Nations 3 the night before. We have not played Milton
this year so we didn't know what to expect. And certainly what we didn't
expect was to be losing 3-0 after the first period, but that's what
happened.
So, at this point I'm thinking "gee, I can golf this afternoon" or watch
the PGA Championship on TV or whatever. But my mind is now moving along
to other things because this is a team that doesn't play well when
they're down.
So what happens?
The Hawks explode for five goals in the second period and take a 5-4
lead into the third. They extended that to 7-5 with a couple of minutes
left and hung on for a gritty 7-6 win. Milton was eliminated, and one of
their guys decided to run our goalie at the buzzer, just to prove how
much class he had I guess.
So that set up a 2p game vs. St. Catharines -- we played them once
earlier in the year and beat them so we're expecting a tough,
competitive game.
It didn't disappoint. The teams basically traded goals most of the way
and St. Kitts pulled out a 6-5 win to end our season. A late third
period goal post by the Hawks was as close as they came to tying it.
Instead of the chippy stupidness that so often characterizes the end of
close midget lacrosse games, the Hawks played clean and hard, shook
hands when it was over and left the floor with their heads up.
I think in a day or two the disappointment will give way to satisfaction
--this team came a long way from it's winless field lacrosse season to
be one of the final 10 teams at provincials.
Tomorrow all the boys can sleep in and no doubt, they will. Maybe some
parents will, too.
I think they did better than many expected and they never quit. They
beat some good teams. They came from behind to win. They handled losing
with dignity and honor.
It was a good couple of days.
Aug 8, 2008
OK. Sorry. I didn't update as promptly as I said I would but the day
didn't play out entirely as expected at midget provincial lacrosse
championships.
Pad and the midget 2 Hawks drew Peterborough 2 in the first game --
Peterborough 2 having beaten them by 10 goals twice this season already.
Peterborough 2, prohibitive favourites to make the provincial
championship game.
Wednesday night when I arrived at Maplegrove to pick up Pad at practice,
the coach had the team outside, sitting on the grass. He was talking.
They appeared to be listening for a change.
I asked Pad what he had to say. Oh, just lineup stuff, he said.
That's all?
"He said he expected to play on Saturday."
The implicit message in that was that the team would have to win at
least once on Friday. Two losses, and you're out. Opening against
Peterborough made that a tough challenge.
In fact, here is a list of people (other than the coaches) who expected
the Hawks to be within five goals of Peterborough today:
1.
2.
3.
That's a complete list too.
So, back to why I didn't update here this afternoon.
Simple. The Hawks beat Peterborough.
Peterborough who beat them twice already by 10 goals.
Maybe it was the music. Maybe it was the wine.
But there was magic out there and the Hawks rode Adam Smith's four goals
and Brennan Donville's heroics in goal to a 7-5 stunning upset win. They
opened the scoring. The Lakers tied it. 2-1 Hawks. 2-2 after one.
3-2 Lakers. 3-3. 4-3 Lakers. 4-4. Then, 5-4 Hawks. They never trailed
again. 5-5. 6-5 Hawks. 7-5 Hawks -- Adam Smith scored, and Adam jumped
into Pad's arms. It was a funny sight.
So instead of a night game, we suddenly had another afternoon game,
which meant we didn't come home from Hamilton in between and the blog
went unattended for a few more hours.
The bad news is the Hawks lost that second game 8-4 to a larger, older
Gloucester team, but honestly, that felt academic.
Coach Mark will get his Saturday game.
And the Hawks beat Peterborough, which was simply huge.
I can't expect you to understand how huge, but suffice to say in all the
games I've seen my boys play in any sport at any age, this win rates in
the top five for sure.
It was a great moment.
And what's more, a lot of the parents missed it because of work
commitments (and maybe a feeling that the Hawks couldn't win against
the powerhouse Lakers?) There was lots of teasing on that point this
afternoon.
So, that's why I wasn't here. I was there.
I have much to blog about but it will have to wait. Come back on
Saturday or Sunday. I promise to have more, and not just on lacrosse.
Right now I have to get some ice for the Padman and the impressive welts
on his arms. And a big steak dinner for the big guy.
He earned it. They all earned it. It was one of those games we'll never
forget.
Aug 8, 2008
Vacation for me began this morning with a 90-minute conference call with
New York. Which means the leisurely morning I was going to spend at
least some of writing here is now gone. It has been replaced by a
frantic rush to get Pad out of bed, fed and delivered to Hamilton for a
very tough opening game at lacrosse provincials.
So, I will have to do that later.
And I will. Check back after lunch.
Aug 7, 2008
I was up at 3:45a this morning to get Laura and Chris to the airport so
excuse me if I'm less than my brilliant self right now. It's going to be
a long day.
This is supposed to be my last day of work before my summer break, but
I've already got one, and perhaps two conference calls scheduled for
Friday. We do what we have to do, right?
- - -
The Summer Olympics open officially Friday and I guess there's no doubt
that will be the largest story on the planet for a couple of weeks. But
this year's games leave me a bit cold I'm afraid. I'm not a big fan
one-party rule and tyranny and oppression, but hey -- who am I to spoil
everyone's good time?
I have no problem with the Chinese people, and I get all the arguments
about reaching out to their government to try and bring them into the
global community and all that.
I just don't buy it for a second. I don't think the Chinese government
gives a rat's ass about what the IOC or anyone else thinks of its human
rights policies and I can't imagine the Olympics are going to change one
single thing.
I am curious about Chinese culture and history and all of that and there
will be no shortage of propaganda over the coming days to sate my
interest.
And yes, I hope all the Canadian athletes compete hard and do their best
and maybe bring home some medals. But at the end of the day, the Chinese
government will still censor what its people can read and view; it will
jail and torture those who disagree with them; and nothing much will
change for the people of China in that respect. Which is too bad. They
are the economic and geopolitical force of this century and they deserve
better.
Talk about your Olympic ideals, right?
- - -
On a lighter note, I was channel surfing last night after watching the
end of the Jays game and I stopped on The Golf Channel -- yes, insert
your own joke here. The season's final major championship, the PGA,
opens today and the show was, appropriately, Live From the PGA.
Good name -- sort of like Kraft Slices.
But here's the good part -- The Golf Channel was running one of
those scrolling BREAKING NEWS banners on the screen. The big story?
Kenny Perry has a scratched cornea.
Now, by all accounts Kenny Perry is a swell guy and he's also having the
best year of his life.
But when Kenny Perry having a scratched eyeball triggers a breaking news
alert, well, at that point I go outside and stare at the sky and look
for the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse because this may be a sign of
the end of days.
I mean really. Anyway, you can read more
here about Kenny's optical challenges.
- - -
So me and Pad will be batching it for the next few days -- how long the
midget 2 Hawks manage to stay afloat in lacrosse provincials will
dictate how hard we'll have to work to entertain ourselves during this
time. Given the tough draw the Hawks pulled for the Hamilton tournament,
we could be all done by the end of Friday.
Then we'll just stand around grunting and scratching for two days
probably.
Well, the sun's coming up so I better go to work.
As Chris would say, later dudes.
Actually, as I've noted before Chris likes to make videos and he has
loyal fans on Youtube. And here's his video telling the fans why he will
be out of reach for a while. Please note that Chris does not actually talk this
way in real life. Also, note the wardrobe changes. It's actually quite
clever.
Aug 6, 2008
The countdown is on for Nova Scotia. Laura and Chris fly out to Cape
Breton tomorrow morning at 6:20a if you can imagine, and I'm driving
them to Pearson (very, very early) and then going to work. Pad and I are
hanging around for the final weekend of the lacrosse season and the
midget provincial championships in Hamilton.
Expectations are low for Hamilton, but you never know.
In the meantime, since Laura will continue to work for part of the time
in Nova Scotia, I've been on IT duty, tuning up her laptop, checking to
make sure it works etc etc.
The good news is she has three ways to connect to the Internet -- dialup
(ick), wirelss (yay!) and EVDo wireless (booo! cool, but pricey).
Anyway, this is all really boring. Suffice to say in the last 10 days
I've done more IT duty than any non-IT guy should -- including fixing my
dad's wireless connection back in NS (which, BTW, I was happy to do
since I know he uses it a lot.)
- - -
Beyond the IT challenges, Chris is simply a ball of pure excitement.
This will be his third trip to NS since April but it doesn't matter.
Every visit is better than the last. He's a different character than his
big bro', and that's meant as a compliment. He keeps us in stitches.
There's nowhere he'd rather be than Nova Scotia -- eating Laura's mom's
chocolate chip cookies, or my mom's brownies. He comes by that
naturally.
- - -
Brett Favre is apparently finished as a Packer. I think both sides in
this mess have handled matters horribly. Number 4 starting in Tampa?
Stupidity.
- - -
I love watching American politics. It's a 24/7 blood sport at the best
of times and on the eve of the conventions it gets really good. Three
months ago I thought that if there was one Republican who could make
Americans forget the debacle of the last four (or eight, depending on
your POV) years, it was John McCain. Maybe he would beat Hillary or
Obama.
I don't see it now.
Every time I see the guy lately he looks like a grumpy old man yelling
at Barack Obama to get off his lawn.
If I was running for president, I don't think I'd be going for that
look.
I think there are 100 reasons to question whether Obama is ready to
manage the White House. I really do.
On the other hand, I think electing a 72-year-old man to be president is
not a great idea either. When Bill Clinton beat George Bush Sr in 1992,
it marked a generational change in presidential politics that continued
with George Bush Jr. Returning to the pre-boomer generation to select a
president is, in my mind, a step in the wrong direction.
I have nothing against over 70 people -- my parents are in that
category. But it's time to move forward with new voices and players.
Aug 5, 2008
Come on. You're back in the office after a long weekend and already
you're surfing around and reading blogs? Don't worry. I won't tell.
- - -
Our weekend had three basic components and highlights.
First, Saturday was spent in the pursuit of virtually nothing. Every
time someone laid down a plan to do this or that, it was swept off the
table in a breeze of freedom and indifference. No where to be; no
schedule to meet. No games. No practices. Just time to . . . be. So we
did
We watched the movie 21 that evening and that was about as
ambitious as the day got.
- - -
The Sunday highlight, besides the parades, food and celebration marking
Laura's 27th, was a trip to see The Dark Knight. This film, the
sequel to Batman Begins, has been the subject of much hype and
adulation, as has the performance of the late Heath Ledger in a demented
interpretation of The Joker.
For once, you can believe the hype. This film is a blockbuster. But be
warned: this is not a comic book-style tribute to Batman (or as they say
in the movie, The Batman.) This is a very dark, extremely intense and
horribly violent film. It is at its core a film about a large American
city in the grip of a sick terrorist. The writing is dark and
foreboding. The acting is brilliant. The cinematography is captivating.
But this is not a happy film. Bad things happen to good people.
This is not Die Hard with better actors. It is a very dark theme.
My recommendation would be to carefully assess the ability of anyone
under 13 or 14 to process what they are about to see.
Me? I loved it. Heath Ledger is every bit as good as the reviews say he
is. It's a wild ride.
- - -
The third highlight of the weekend was yesterday's day spent in the
country, with golf (or what passed for golf) for some of us and just
hanging out away from the phones and Blackberries for others. A great
meal, and a lot of time spent in a gaze of awe and wonder over a new gas
barbeque that is only slightly smaller than the former
HMCS Bonaventure and throws more energy than the
Darlington reactors.
It's a guy's machine. Very cool and -- howdy mister! -- can it cook a
steak dinner! For 30. With potatoes.
Brilliant.
- - -
I have heard that Jane is no longer in the employ of the Minor Oaks
Hockey Association. I am outside the beltway on this one so you might
want to bounce over to Wayne's blog to read more there. But I will say
that Jane was always extraordinarily helpful to me personally, to others
who helped with teams I coached, and many others I know. I wish her good
luck in everything.
- - -
If anyone, anywhere, can explain to me the Brett Favre saga in 300 words
or less, you know where to reach me. A first-ballot unanimous hall of
famer, Favre retired in March. And then changed his mind. And his old
team made plans. But there are allegations of skullduggery and
malfeasance. It should be a soap opera. Read more
here.
- - -
The Oakville Little League Minor AA All-Stars -- a squad of hot-shot 10
year olds -- won the Scott Tokessy Tournament in Kanata on the weekend.
More details and a team photo have been promised. Congratulations, guys.
(And you people thought I only cared about sports where guys can hit
each other with sticks!)
- - -
Michelle Wie shot an 80 on Friday to miss the cut in a big way at the
second-rank men's PGA Tour event she played in instead of trying to
qualify for the women's British Open. It's no secret to anyone who
listens to me (which is almost no one) that I think having her try to
compete with men is stupid. But two things.
First, a PGA staffer followed Wie during her round Friday and blogged
the event live. He did a great job and it will give you some insight
into how well she actually did. You can read it
here.
Second, The Globe and Mail's Lorne Rubenstein says -- basically -- that
while Wie has admittedly helped make herself a target for critics, those
critics on the Tour should shut up and thank her, because she sells
tickets, improves purses and frankly, at 18 has more talent than many of
them, and certainly way more potential. You can read his column
here.
My view is that maybe winning a US Amateur Championship -- or two --
would have been a good learning experience for Wie. Instead of turning
pro so young. Instead of losing to men (she's now missed eight PGA Tour
cuts) she could be not just succeeding, but blooming into the dominant
woman golfer of her generation. As it stands now, she doesn't even have
an assured spot on the LPGA Tour next year.
It just seems odd to me.
Aug 3, 2008
So, I got up early and went to RONA to get Laura's birthday present
(those new brass fittings for the garden hose are going to go over very
nicely) and run to Sobeys to get some groceries for breakfast.
I have three basic culinary areas of greatness.
1. Cooking any warm-blooded creature over an open flame.
2. Caesar salad. People have fallen down and wept after eating my Caesar
salad. I make the dressing from scratch. Yes, it's that good.
3. Eggs Benedict. I make the Hollandaise sauce from scratch and it's not
easy to get it right. I call my Hollandaise sauce "the Tingler" because
you can feel your left arm go numb as you eat it.
Eggs benny are on the birthday brunch menu for Laura today.
I also got some fresh fruit and we settled down in the back garden with
newspapers and fruit and THEN LISTENED TO THE NUTBAR THREE HOUSES AWAY
FIRE UP HIS WEEDWHACKER AT 9A ON THE SUNDAY OF A LONG WEEKEND.
Luckily, I'm not bitter.
I mean really, what level of self-awareness do you need on a cool long
weekend morning where everyone has their windows open to JUST LAY OFF
THE POWER TOOLS UNTIL NOON?
Anyway, I'm not bitter.
The fruit is almost gone so it will soon be time to start the eggs benny.
I have been known to dirty every frying pan, every mixing bowl, every
spoon, fork and knife, every serving dish and every other thing I can
find while in the process of making this breakfast. On occasion I even
dirty some of the neighbor's dishes. Just because.
Yes, I clean up the mess.
Yes, it will taste spectacular.
Yes, I was kidding about the gift from RONA. (It's Home Depot. Nothing
but the best . . .)
Aug 1, 2008
As Dr. Nick would say, "Hello everybody!"
A long day yesterday precluded the usual drivel I offer here, but I'm
back.
As we march headlong into the dog days of August, it is sadly not to
early to ask: "Where did July go?"
The midget 1 Hawks played their final pre-provincials game on Wednesday
night, whipping Brampton 7-2 in their own barn. And last night Pad
officiated his final lacrosse game of the season as the novice 2 rep squad
from Oakville thumped a game but overwhelmed Orangeville 3 team a lot to
a little.
My intention was to drag the laptop to the rink last night and peck
away, but, as a friend of mine says after a long day or meetings: my
brain was full. Very full, in fact.
So I just sat quietly off to the side off the home section, some of them
clearly first-year rep parents, bordering on lunacy, who continued to
cheer with gusto after the novice Hawks scored their 10th, 11th, 12th,
13th and 14th goals. It came as no surprise to me that the Orangeville
kids, completely dispirited and humiliated, walked off the floor without
shaking hands.
Admittedly, it's a tough chore to convince tyke-age kids to stop
scoring. Peewee, bantam and midget age kids usually get it. Novices just
want to have fun and what's more fun that scoring goals? Kids will be
kids. But I don't think the boys from Orangeville had much fun.
One of the Oakville parents spoke to me after the game. My only comment
was that after years of watching and coaching lacrosse (and hockey) at
many levels, I can say this: what goes around will surely come around.
The Orangeville tyke kids will get bigger and they will improve. And
someday down the road they will be playing Oakville, and some of those
boys will use what happened last night as additional motivation.
Wait and see.
- - -
The general rule of thumb on the teams that I've been involved with is
that when the route is on, you ease up on the throttle. Respect the
game, respect your opponent, etc etc. The acknowledged exception to that
rule is Halton Hills, that has a reputation of running up scores when
the opportunity presents itself. (Not to mention that it's pretty rare
that anyone gets to run up a score on Halton Hills. They have a very
strong program.)
- - -
On the threshold of the summer's middle long weekend, I am proud to say
we have nothing particular planned. Laura will celebrate her 27th
birthday this weekend, so feel free to drop her a note. The smarter,
blonder, and better looking component of our partnership, she will be
the beneficiary of all manner of honours, tributes, parades, and general
all-purpose worshipping.
She is usually in Nova Scotia for her birthday (she and Chris leave next
week) so this will present a rare opportunity for local dignitaries to
extend their personal best wishes.
I have not bought a present yet and have no clue as to what to give her.
But my theory of "you-already-have-everything" won't hold up
and she has no interest in my old golf clubs. So, we'll see where it
goes.
As for a cake, care to guess who will be making it? Because of Pad's
peanut allergy we can't use store-bought cakes. Someone who knows how to
bake will have to do it. Hmmm.
- - -
The Mats Sundin saga continues with no resolution. Do we still care?
More
here.
- - -
Scotty Bowman, who already has Stanley Cup rings from Montreal,
Pittsburgh and Detroit, has signed on as an advisor with Chicago. Why
didn't the Leafs think of that? Oh right. They did. But they took a
pass. Brilliant. More
here.
- - -
Michelle Wie shot 73 (one over par) in the first round of the Legends
Reno-Lake Tahoe Open, putting her in a tie for 77th place, eight shots
back of leader Jeff Overton (the top 50 players in the world are at
Firestone in a World Golf Championship event, so this is a second-tier
event.) Nonetheless, she has a good shot to make the cut with a decent
round today. More
here.
July 30, 2008
My comment yesterday about how hot it was at the Kinoak Sports and
Entertainment Palace generated a couple of emails from readers who
enjoyed the irony. Complaining about the heat at Kinoak is sort of like
yelling at Jessica Simpson to put on more clothes (well, to male readers
anyway.)
But Kinoak's reputation as the coldest, most inhospitable piece of
sports real estate in the known world Oakville is well
earned. Having spend a torturous winter there as a convener, I know of
what I speak. But pretty much any parent who has crossed its threshold
in January knows of what I speak.
- - -
The midget 2 Hawks play Brampton in Brampton tonight at the
almost-as-luxurious-as-Kinoak Memorial Arena. Brampton's Memorial Arena
has what you'd call "character." What it doesn't have is a lot of room
on the floor for midget-aged lacrosse players. So, it will be an
interesting evening I'm sure.
- - -
Teenage woman golfer, former teenage prodigy, Michelle Wie, is skipping
the women's British Open to play in a second-rank PGA tour event against
men. Wie's career -- such as it is now -- has been in free fall for two
years and this is yet another indication that she's getting really,
really, really bad advice.
Blessed with awesome talent and physical gifts, she came close but never
won on the LPGA Tour. And then someone had the bright idea that she
should try competing against men. She's never made a cut competing with
men, let alone win.
I just don't get it. While other young women like Paula Creamer have
exploded onto the scene to become true superstars, Wie now struggles to
break 75 -- or even 80 some days -- but chooses to pass up a major so
she can continue her exercise in futility against male golfers who are
stronger and more talented and better able to cope with the longer
courses.
It's like she is knowingly turning herself into a novelty act at the
expense of the big picture. She's only 18 and has lots of time to get
back on track. But skipping the British Open to play in the Legends
Reno-Tahoe Open (now there's an important tourney) is a bad move.
The Transport Canada report is out on that horrific crash last winter in
New Brunswick that killed eight people, including seven high school
basketball players. It's a disturbing read. Most of the kids were not
wearing seat belts. The vehicle was equipped with worn all-season tires
on a very slippery, slushy road. The bus itself was in poor repair.
Awful.
The Blue Jays have an afternoon game today and there's a move afoot to
bolt from the office and take in the game. It would be a great idea
except for work getting in the way.
I tried to find the clip from Ferris Bueller's Day Off (which, by
the way, is on the list of Gerry's 25 Greatest Films Ever) with Ferris
and Cameron playing hooky at the Cubs' game. But I couldn't. So instead
amuse yourself with this one, the parade scene where Ferris lip-synchs
The Beatles' Twist and Shout.
Sometimes, aren't we just supposed to go to a mid-week ball game,
eat a $10 hotdog, yell "swing batter-batter" and forget about the other
crap for three hours? Aren't we? What's happened to me? What's happened
to us all?