Neil Crone - Enter Laughing

Stoogey McIdiot...

I just got back from this morning's Remembrance Day ceremony here in town.  I really like the small town service that the Legion puts on. It's very touching and always meaningful.  Breaks my heart a little too, to note a new absence or two every year as Veterans leave us. Sunderland is a great little town.  They love their Vets and they support them.  There's always a good crowd, even, as is usually the case, when the weather is horrendous.  Today was an anomaly.  It was bright, sunny, even warm at times.  As I think I've mentioned in previous posts, the one thing that always drives me ape is when people seem to think their meeting or grocery run or gravel load is more important than taking a few moments out to recognize, respect and honour the memory of those who served for the rest of us.  There's almost always a bonehead or two who just doesn't get it.  This morning something kind of wonderful happened.  I was standing a few feet onto the street by the Cenotaph, at the periphery of the crowd.  One of the Legion members had just started to read 'In Flanders Fields'.  It was a lovely, poignant moment.  Suddenly Stoogey McIdiot comes rattling down the street towards us with a canoe on top of his car. Apparently he just had to get to where he was going.  Couldn't wait the ten or fifteen minutes to observe along with the rest of us.  I don't want to pre-judge, of course. Who knows, maybe he was a courier de bois running a load of pemmican to some destitute pioneers? Anyway, I was just starting to get steamed,  when all of a sudden several guys beside me took two large steps into the middle of the road, effectively blocking Stoogeys path. Making no effort to disguise their annoyance they waived the guy back to where he'd come from.  I was delighted and afterwards thanked them both for their vigilance and respect of the ceremony.  Next time I think we'll actually drag the guy out of his car, haul him into the legion and let him listen to a few of the vets tell their stories of what they went through.  Maybe that'll reach him.  Or not.

Thanks for Giving...

I know this is Thanksgiving weekend and most of us will be, on at least one day or more, chowing down with family and friends, but if you've got nothing going on Saturday night, I'd love to have you come and join us.

My Improv partner Kevin Frank and I will be doing a live comedy show at the Port Perry Town Hall theatre Saturday evening as a fundraiser for some good friends of ours in Port.  The Warners, tragically, lost their Dad/husband Tom just a few months ago and a few of us felt like putting a little something together to raise some money for the Warner kids education fund.

This will be a really fun night.  Opening the show we have Port Perry"s own 'The Fringe'; some fantastic young musicians who will play for a while and then Kev and I and our musical improvisor Glenn James will do a solid hour of loopy improv. Tickets are available at Meta4 in Port (905-985-2435) or you can always grab one at the door. Call the theatre ahead of time though (905-985-8181) to make sure they're not sold out.  They're going fast.

Also a huge thanks to all of you who have already purchased tickets and those who couldn't make it but have  made a donation. Which, by the way, can always be made at the Royal Bank in Port Perry.  Ask about donating to the Warner Children's Education Fund. Thanks again, you're all good eggs.

Love to see you there folks.  Cheers and a wonderful weekend to you all.  Thanks, as always for reading.

Norman Rockwell North...

I was driving my son up to his bands concert in Cannington tonight and on the way back I was greeted by a number of scenes straight out of Norman Rockwell north.  This has not been the warmest or driest of summers so far and so, I guess, when July finally offered up a lovely, warm summer evening tonight, a whole whack of folks were taking advantage of it.  I got little snapshots of these as I drove through town.  People in various poses of relaxation, happiness and friendship.  Here are two guys chatting in a driveway...one sitting atop his motorcycle, the other leaning, arms folded against the garage door, both chatting affably, nodding and smiling.
Here a front porch with people spilling happily down it's steps and out onto the green lawn.  Chairs set up in no particular order. Men still in blue collar work clothes, dirty baseball hats on their smiling heads, cold beers in hand.  Women and children sprinkled throughout.  Baby carriages nearby.  Everyone relaxed, everyone enjoying a warm evening with friends while happily staring down the barrel of a long weekend.  And in several instances I saw variations of this familiar theme:  Seniors sitting on verandahs. Grey haired men and women, men with pants pulled up to just under the nipples, women in sensible shoes, roller pin arms folded over their ample bosoms, placidly ensconced in overstuffed chairs and gazing quietly out at the world passing by on a warm summer night.  It was all pretty nice.  We're really not a bad bunch once you get to know us.

Checking in on the 'Frybrid'...

Well, it's been well over a year since we converted the VW Beetle to run on waste Vegetable oil and I thought I would give you an update on how the 'Frybrid' is running.  In a word, fantastic.  Not a problem.  The vehicle runs like a clock,leaving in its wake not a black cloud of carbon besotted soot, but a clear haze of yummy french fry residue.  Dope smokers follow us for miles, rubbing their stomachs and smiling dreamily.  It really has been tremendous.  Feels very good to fuel up for free and the engine is remarkably clean.  There have been a few hiccups but none of these has had anything to do with the actual mechanics of the conversion.  It's all been about human stupidity....more to the point, my stupidity.  I recall the night I left a barrel heater on in one of our 55 gallon plastic barrels.  It was virtually full of oil and I was heating it, as I normally do, to allow the sediment in the oil to settle out faster.  Never occurred to me that if left on too long, the oil would heat to the point of causing the barrel to lose 'structural integrity'.  We awoke the next morning to a melted barrel and a garage floor covered in 55 gallons of veggie oil. Gosh that was fun.  Oh  golly did we laugh. Thank God for Shop Vacs.  And I've since, incidentally, switched to steel drums.  Live and learn though, right?  And what's life without a little greasy adventure now and then?  Bottom line is our carbon footprint and our fuel bill have been reduced drastically.  And that's worth any amount of gunk on the garage floor.

It's called a 'Service' station.

You cannot put a price on service. I think the worst thing that can happen to any business, small or large is complacency.  The minute you start seeing customers as 'inconveniences', it's time to hang up your shingle. My wife and I had a go-round recently with a local service station over reparations from some damage done to one of our vehicles while they were working on it.  I won't go into details but the ordeal really made me appreciate those service people in our lives who understand the word 'service'.  I think of my mechanics Franz and Nick, father and son, who always, always, always make me feel welcome, looked after and appreciated at their shop.  Who, many times, have squeezed me into a very busy garage when emergencies strike. I think of my handyman friend Wayne who is polite, friendly, honest as the day is long and neat as a pin. I think of John, the guy who has kept my kids in shoes all their lives and who's face actually lights up when we walk in the door.  Not just because he's looking at a sale, but because he's genuinely glad to see us. I think of Jeff at The Interesting Music Shoppe, who actually likes to have teenagers loitering in his store.  These people get it.  And they also get my business.  It's never been rocket science, folks.

Hope for the 'Wick'

There may hope for Keswick after all. I was greatly encouraged to read of a large number of the student body, some 300 kids, walking out in protest of a fifteen year old asian student being expelled and charged with assault causing bodily harm.  The kid was involved in an incident in which, allegedly, he was shoved into a locker by one or two other boys, punched and called a racial epithet.  He responded by punching one of them and breaking the kid's nose.  The facts are not all in yet but this one does already smell pretty badly of 'ignorant thugs picking on very visible minority kid'.  Keswick, you may recall, is very often host to an odious little recreation called 'Nipper Tipping'.  Google that one for an eye-opener.  It's as bad as it sounds, trust me.
Keswick was also the place where not long ago a couple of shining members of the community had the effigy of a black man hanging from a tree in the front yard.  They claimed it was a Halloween decoration.  Charming.
Still, as I say, I am thrilled to hear that a large number of the student body where this young boy has been expelled took it upon themselves to walk out as an indication of their outrage at what they deem a miscarriage of justice.  Well done kids. The future of the 'Wick' looks brighter all the time.

Princess Margaret

It's nice, now and again, to take part in or even observe something that just plain makes you laugh.  My pals Dorothea and Rich Helms contacted me this morning and let me know that their English Bulldog and canine diva 'Margaret' was going to be taking part in the Sunderland Maple Syrup Festivals 'Dog Show' .  Needless to say, Suzanne and I dropped everything to get over to the centre of town where Margaret would be making her appearance.  Rich and Dorothea are relatively new dog owners and as such they are very doting parents to Margaret who very obviously loves every minute of it.  They also have a penchant for dressing Margaret up.  Which, as far as I can tell, she also loves.  This morning they did not disappoint.  Margaret arrived, bejewelled and bedecked with translucent angel wings and a tiara.  You can see her in all of her glory...as well a number of her other seasonal outfits at Rich's website.  I defy you not to smile.  I think Margaret has one purpose here on earth.  To make everyone she comes in contact with feel a little better for the experience.

Silent and good.

Another very nice, very touching Remembrance Day memorial in my little town. Sad to see fewer and fewer of those old guys in the blue Legion jackets and the chests full of medals every year. We're losing them. Losing their stories and their passion to keep this day important. On the upside, there were loads of kids there from the public school. Ever since my kids were tiny I made a point of bringing them along with me to the Cenotaph every November 11th. They'd sit on my shoulders, little mittened hands playing with my nose and ears, but they grew up understanding the message. Lest we forget. Another bright spot was that this year it seemed we had far less of the idiots in cars and trucks who thought their business, however stupidly trivial, was more important than a moment of silence for the fallen. The roads were pretty quiet and I even heard a couple of gravel trucks turn their engines right off. It was good this year. Silent and good.

...the triumph of evil.

And people wonder why 'The Wick' has such a bad rep. Did you see the story in todays paper about the clown and his idiot brother who had painted a skeleton black, hung it by a noose to a tree in their front yard and draped a confederate flag behind it? Yeah. Lovely fellows these two. Must've just been home for a couple of weeks from Harvard or Yale and had some time on their hands. A black man who was doing some work nearby spotted this monstrosity and complained to the municipality who, to their credit, immediately called York Region Police. The coppers asked them to take it down. They refused. Did you get that? They refused. I personally think the cops showed admirable restraint at this point. I would've tasered these jerks 'til they crapped lightning bolts. Finally a full blown investigation resulted in the thing being taken down and the two brain surgeons being charged with hate crimes. They, all along, claiming it was just a halloween decoration. I'm shaking my head so much my eyes are crossed. And, here's the part I really love. The part that simply confirms my opinion that Keswick is the armpit of the province. When the papers reporters asked neighbors why none of them had complained about this abomination, the best they could do was 'This is a small community. We don't bother them, they don't bother us.' Nice. Really nice. What is that wonderful quote from Edmund Burke 'The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing' . Happy Halloween everybody.

A bearly enjoyable ride.

Funny how one little bear sighting can really take the fun out of a bike ride. My wife was out for her ride yesterday and came within a few yards of a black bear strolling across the road. It was not a huge bear, but as I think Goldilocks once said, 'A bear is still a f**king bear'. She managed to stop in time to do a quick about face. No harm done. However, today, when I went for my ride along a similar route, what, do you suppose was all my fertile imagination could think about? According to my idiot brain, a Grizzly lurked behind every Sumach bush and rogue, murderously hungry Kodiak's stalked every shadow in every forest. The worst, of course, is when you are whizzing downhill. Normally this is the most fun part of the whole ride. Feeling the wind whip past you, effortlessly speeding along. Today, all I could think about was a huge black, hairy lump darting out directly in front me and the two of us tumbling the rest of the way downhill in a spokey, greasy, snarling mass. Needless to say, the ride was not my most relaxing. Although it was probably the fastest I've ever done.