April 2010 Archives

Let's see, George Vezina, Jacques Plante, Roggie Vachon, Ken Dryden, Patrick Roy and Jaroslav Halak?   To quote Lewis black "wha..wha...wha...wha....what?"  Jaroslav Halak joins the pantheon of great Montreal Canadien goaltenders?

I keep hearing people say that the Washington Caps aren't built for the playoffs.  They dominated the Habs.  Their problem?  Halak dominated them.  There is not a snow balls chance Montreal gets past the Caps if Halak doesn't conjure up the spirits of Vezina, Plante, Vachon, the erudite Dryden and St. Patty. 

Now, there are teams that are much better in the regular than the post season.  Then you have the Maple Leafs who are better in the pre season than the regular season.  The Caps and San Jose are 2 teams that under perform in the playoffs.  The NBA?  Dallas Mavericks and Phoenix Suns.  The Caps, Sharks, Mavs and Suns were built to win and built to entertain. During a regual season who would rather spend your money on...the Mavs and Suns or the Jazz and Bucks?  Truthfully, a full season of the Habs and Devils or the Caps and Sharks?

Oh, and by the way, if any team is constructed for the post season it's New Jersey.  Let me look it up...there it is...gone in the first round! 

It happens just about every year.  A team with no business advancing past the first round gets some shocking blocking from their backstop and all of sudden it has a chance.  Take it to the bank Pittsburg has been breaking down video of Halak 24/7 to find a weakness.

You can make the arguement that the Habbies were the better team against the Caps.  But they were better because of one player.  Compare rosters and it's not a contest.  Compare goaltenders and that's a different bucket of pucks.

What the Canadiens tripped over...because they could have just as easily started Carey Price in game 5 when they were down 3 games to one...was guy who put on a show for the ages. Lucky guess?  I think so.  No one...out side of Halak's immediate family was expecting something on this level. 

What the Habs found was a rage in the cage who took a page from the sage...Patrick Roy.

When I lived in Mississauga I'd duck into the local wing joint now and again.  Every weekend they'd have live entertainment.  Usually a solo act and every one of them played "Brown Eyed Girl".  Now, I don't mind the song, the original, but most of these guys were lightweights and after night after night of Brown Eyed Girl...I wanted to make her brown eyes blue. I was dating a brown eyed girl at the time so I had no choice but endure the torture.  I wondered if Van Morrison realized the Pandora's Box he'd unleashed on the world!  It was like Prometheus giving humans fire. What the hell are they going to do with it next?

One Saturday night I was in and the performer was pretty good.  Deep voice, he played a hard guitar. Something like Cat Stevens.  At the end of the first set he started to play "Brown Eyed Girl" and I thought..."oh crap...I gotta get out of here".  'Course the only other form of entertainment in the area was watching the fights in the bar down the street and watching kids spray paint the overpass on Lakeshore Road.  So I stayed.  Glad I did. Next to the original it was the best version of the song I had ever heard.  I said to myself..."he gets it!"

I talked with him between sets. His name was Augy G.  He and his brother Ernie came down from Sudbury with a band called BIg Blue Bus.  Augy had the deep ballsy voice.  Ernie could sing like an angel.  Augy would be in every couple of weeks and was playing some of the bands original material.  I got  hold of the cd and to this day it's one of my favourites. 

You ever hear a song that just automatically clicks.  Augy wrote one called "Slagtown". It's about growing up around the mines in Sudbury. The kids would hang out around the slag piles which they called Slagtown.  I grew up in St. Catharines around the paper mills where my dad worked.  On Friday and Saturday nights we'd hang around the sulfer piles.  Same deal as Sudbury.  No adults would come around there.  It was our haven where we could disappear. "Slagtown" is one of my top 3 songs ever.  I can see the lyrics in my mind.

I only saw Big Blue Bus play as a band a couple of times.  It's one of those things where you shake your head and say..."why the hell aren't these guys big stars?'.   I used one of their songs "Gonna Live Long" as the intro and extro music for the Sunday Funnies on Chum FM. 

Ernie doesn't play much any more but Augy is still at it.  I lost touch with him but managed to track him down this week.  Do you ever just want to hear a song?  Need to hear a song?  Turns out Augy is playing the Wolf and Firkin on Elm Street, down town Toronto this Saturday. I'm going go see him to see if he still "gets it" and to see if I can talk him into playing "Slagtown" for me one more time. I'll even sit through "Brown Eyed Girl".

Mentioned earlier today on face book that I ran out of bar soap so I showered with shampoo instead.  Then I figured....go for it....and I used the conditioner too.  It made my hairy chest soft and fluffy.  No one around to impress although the cats seemed to like it.  They think I'm one of them now. We had a group purr.

I  was wondering what a woman would do.  Well, a woman probably wouldn't run out soap in the first place..but on the off chance she did would a woman delay her shower until she got to the store to pick up a couple of bars of Camay?  A man wouldn't do that. A man doesn't think like that.  For a man it's best available.

Men do weird things when we're alone.  Get out of the shower and we automatically pull in our stomachs (women think we only do that for them),  We take a look, figure we're a 25 year old hardbody again say to ourselves,,"yea, I can get another year out of the speedo".  Hey we don't cut the hair growing out of our ears. We figure one day it might come in handy for a combover.

Men alone means as few dishes a possible.  I mean why dirty a dish if you can eat over the sink.  This is why I don't eat cereal in the morning when a cereal bar will do.  No dishes. No mess. No spilt milk.  Besides a cereal bar is just as nutritous although I'm guessing at that because men alone will not read the ingredients on the back of box.

I've also discovered a way not to dirty a spoon when you have coffee.  Pour the milk in first, then the coffee.  Voila...it stirs itself.  David Copperfield would be jealous.

'Course eating like this can limit your menu.  Pasta can be trickey, it can be done but it takes practice. Chili is almost impossible. Notice I said almost. Soup?  Can't be done.  So sandwiches are what you're going to have most days.  Make them on a paper towel, eat them over the sink and the only thing you dirty is a knife.  Need a drink?  That's what the tap is for. Why waste the time and effort putting the sandwich on the plate, pouring milk in glass, and walking to the couch just in time to catch Coronation Street. This is why God put tv's in the kitchen.  No trouble, no mess.

Also acceptable for men alone is anything you can micro-wave as long as it comes with it's own plate.  Nuke, eat, throw away.  This why microwave popcorn might be the greatest invention of the last millenium.  Thank you Mr. Redenbacher.

By the way when men go out and we're watching a game at the local sports bar and you see us do all those mysterious handshakes when our team scores.  Not so mysterious.  We just want them to look that way.  We figure if we can impress just one woman with these arcane antics we might be able to talk them in coming over and cooking us a decent meal..bring along a bar of soap...clip our ear hair...get rid of the speedo....etc...etc.

Note: for another very funny take on this go to: cbc.ca/laughoutloud check out comedy clips and John Wing.

Ever since I joined face book I've been asked by some of my new "friends" to join things. Clubs...causes...organizations...fan clubs.  The last thing I joined before  facebook was an exclusive fitness club in Barrie.  It had all the bells and whistles.  Just what you need to get into shape and make contacts.  I went once, never went back. 

When I lived in Mississauga I joined the condo committe of the townhouse community I lived in.  First meeting had to do with replacing all the fire places.  Okay, sounded easy enough.  And then alpha dogs emerged. One wanted his cousin, a contractor, to do all the work.  Another wanted his brother in law, a lawyer, to make sure everything was legal and up to spec.  Someone wanted their accountant father in law to keep books on it. Everybody had an agenda and no one trusted anyone else in the room.  It was ridiculous. One meeting, I never went back.

There was a time when I saw myself as an alpha dog.  I could take charge, I could lead.  Leave it with me because I know best.  Well I didn't.  Being, or trying to be, an aplha dog eventually made me feel like a bully.  These days I try to be a reactor.  Listen, think it over and if it works for me I'll bite. I'll toss in ideas but I wont try to force them down anyone's throat.

I've always loved meetings where you're asked to come up with any ideas, no matter how goofey they may seem, and toss them out for discussion. It's not done enough. What may seem ridiculous to you could be the answer to the problem. But with more serious meetings I think one on one is better.  Add a third person, you get politics.  It always seem to end up 2 against one.

I once worked with someone who was never wrong. If their ideas were rejected in a meeting they would go balistic. They could not possibly be wrong.  3 managers put up with it. The fourth didn't and Mr. I'm never wrong...was removed from his position.

I had another situation where we had daily meetings.  I dreaded them.  In 3 out of 5 there would be arugments.  The other 2 turned in free-for-all screaming matches.  Most it had to do with a manager criticzing an employee in front of everyone else.  It was flee or fight.  'Course when you have a room full of egos it's always a fight.  It made question period look like nap time at a day care center.

This is something I don't understand about Maple Leaf coach Ron Wilson.  He will publicly embarass his players.  Throws them under the bus.  If you have a problem with a player deal with it in the dressing room.  Better yet, one on one in your office. I don't mind being wrong.  I don't mind getting hell.  I do mind being embarassed in public.

I understand the upside of joining things. Socalizing, meeting new people and networking. Not joining things has probably, no deffinately, hurt me professionally. You never know when a contact might be able to help you out, or you may be able to help them.  My loss.  But I really do believe in what Groucho Marx said.  I have it down as my favourite quote on facebook,  "I don't care to belong to any club that would have people like me as members."

Which makes me wonder why I joined facebook.  I'll have to call a meeting to get that figured out. 

I get a kick out of conspiracy theories.  The latest one in sports came out of Vancoucer where some calls went against the Canucks in their series against Los Angeles.  Well then it must be a conspiracy on the part of the NHL to get Vancouver out of the playoffs and keep Los Angeles in.  Does the NHL want Los Angeles to advance?  Of course it does.  Building a fan base in southern California is more important than catering to the fan base that's not going to go away in B.C.

Hockey may be our game but Americans run it. There is nothing the NHL muckety mucks in Manhattan would love more than a Ranger-Kings Stanley Cup final.  The 2 biggest markets in the US in a championship series,  That's television nirvana for professional sports.

But there's so much more too this.  You favour one team in the playoffs and if it's as obvious as the fans think it is you lose credibility.  That's the one thing no league, no sports can afford to do.  You lose credibility you may as well fold your tent because we aint buyin' what you're selling anymore.  There is no conspiracy.

UFOs?  There's a conspiracy theory that UFOs are actually plants by the American government.  Now give that some thought.  The American government is responsible for unleashing something on the puplic that it has maintained for years doesn't exist.  If it's true then the American government has been lying to us.  They already know the public doesn't believe anything the government tells it.  Why make it worse?

The Illuminati?  The ultra secret group that some say is trying to, and eventually will, take control of the world.  The Illuminati has supposedly been around for hundreds, some say thousands, of years.  If these people are so smart what the hell is taking them so long?  Do they think we really do have James Bond tucked away in some underground bunker ready to pounce at the sign of danger and eliminate the Illuminati?

Big Foot?  They keep looking for him.  Can't find him.  How come?  The latest theory is that Big Foot is actually from another dimension and can slip back to where ever the hell it came from when humans come around. If Einstein is right there are 11 dimensions.  Big Foot better hope he makes the right choice on his way home.

When the Blue Jays were making the playoffs and winning World Series rings a lot of people got bent out of shape because the American TV networks covering the games were hyping the other teams.  Duh.  Every other team the Jays could possibly play was an American team.  Let's see.  An American network hyping an American team to American fans.  Yea, that has conspiracy written all over it. 

A second shooter on the grassy knoll?  I've often wondered about that.  But I've also wondered, if as many people were involved in a conspiracy to kill the president as they say there was surely by now someone would have talked. 

I'm sure there are conspiracies in the world.  We just don't know about them.  That's the key to a conspiracy isn't it.  No one can find out what diabolical deed you're up to.  So do yourself a favour, take virtually all conspiracy theories with a large grain of salt.  Except the one about reptilians living among us.  That one's...true!  

I have to admit something.  I'm a nerd.  7:30 on a Saturday morning and I'm sitting here with my cats thinking that sooner or later someone is going to mistake me for the crazy cat lady and send me off to the puzzle factory.  I've found my interests are kind of nerdy.  I love reading about history.  I love reading about religion.  I love reading about science.

Problem is you rarely get to talk about those things with anyone.  I mean you go to a party and a discussion about Peter Abelard's debate with Bernard of Clairvaux concerning the Trinity isn't likely to break out.  Quantum physics is a date killer.  And a lively discussion about the proposed land reforms by Tiberius Graccus during the Roman Republic will leave you alone and lonely by the cheese tray. 

So, imagine my surprise the first time I listened to Eddie Izzard.  He is quite possibly the most intelligent comic I've ever heard.  If not the most intelligent then at least the best read.  Not that I consider myself smart but I like listening to smart. And this guy is smart.

Here's quick list of some of the things he talks about and makes me laugh out loud while he's doing it:

Religion:

-creation...God...God's mother...Jesus and the Dinosaurs...Jesus and the last supper...Noah...the concept of good and evil...Armegeddon.

History: 

-Rome...Hannibal...Alexander the Great...the Cursades...The Iliad...WW II.

Science:

-Einstein...the big bang theory...Pavlov...the end of the universe.

You don't get that from many comics. You don't get than from any comics.  And it's not just "egg head" stuff.  Izzard also does material on fish and goats...dogs and cats...bees and wasps.  He tires to unravel the mystery of hop scotch (something boys never understood but girls do).  He does material on men wearing make up (which he does) and cross dressers (which he is)...2 things I'm not particularly interested in but it's all very funny.

He drops the "f" bomb quite a bit but more as a throw away word.  It's never offensive.

Izzard is in my pantheon of favourite comics along with the late Mitch Hedberg, Lewis Black and Chris Rock.  Never had a chance to see Mitch but I have seen Black and Rock several times.  I've listened to Izzard, watched his videos but never seen him live. 

I don't like to use blogs to promote causes, agendas or shows but I'm going to make an exception.  Izzard is at Massey Hall on the 30th of April and May 1st.  I was going to see him then I wasn't going to see him now I am going to see him.  For me he's don't miss.  And after the show I might get the opprotunity to talk about...Rome...and creation...and..Einstein and not clear the room while I'd doing it.  Maybe even an animated discussion about cross dressing.  Not so bad being a nerd.

The Ontario Government has been kicking around the idea of starting sex educaiton in school as early as the first grade.  First grade?  That would make the kids 6 years old.  Are they ready?

Well here's what I knew about sex when I was 6.  Cheryll Ann Stepinski was better to look at than Eric Mendelson but Eric was more fun to play with.  Not much talk about sex at that age.  The big topic of the day was what you're mom packed in your lunch, tuna or peanut butter.  The closest thing we got to a philosophical discussion was:  "The Tooth Fairy, Truth or Fiction?"  I struggled with that one but as long as some other-worldly creature was leaving money under my pillow I bought into it.  The only time I thought about size was when I asked why they wouldn't super size a Happy Meal.

By grade 7 I knew Vagina was a state down in the US and I thought I was pretty smart because I knew there was also a West Vagina.  A boner was a mistake.  Semen lived on ships. A booty call was what I did when I couldn't find my galoshes.  Erections happened every few years when my parents left my brother and I in the back seat of the car while they went in and voted. 

My first brush with sex-ed came in grade 9.  It was taught by the gym teacher who really didn't want to be doing it.  He'd stumble through the names of all of our naughty bits but never did get around to telling us what they were used for.  Grade 9, 13 years old, exploding hormones. Maybe that was for the best.

Back then we called it health class not sex-ed.  Wouldn't have mattred what they called it, I failed that class. Yes, I was a failure at sex!  Still am on occasion. Then again I failed every class I took in grade 9 except phys-ed. My friends nick named me "I-Q".  I had an inkling then that University wasn't going to be an option.  I wasn't going to do the family name proud by unravelling Einstein's unified field theory.

My parents never gave me "the talk".  To them birds chirpped and bees buzzed and that's all you needed to know.  If I'd been asked how I got here when I was in school I would have said.."by bus". 

'Course with my kids it was going to be different.  Being the young hip dad that I was I would provided them with the all the ammunition they needed for their sexual futures.  Too late.  What I got from both of them was..."yea I know, yea we took that in school, you know you really don't have to do this".  My hipness took a pretty good beating. 

I've always had the feeling that teaching sex-ed was about parents abdicating their responsiblities to the schools and the government.  For the most part nature is going to take it's course.  If not, humans would have petered out (oh behave) about the same time we figured out that rubbing 2 sticks together can create more heat that rubbing 2 bodies together.  Not as much fun but fire will keep you warm when the relationship goes cold. 

I've moved on since Cheryll Ann, my grade one heart throb.  I'm glad we didn't learn about sex at that age.  I'd probably be torn between buying her chocolates or taking to an oyster bar in search of the perfect aphrodisiac.  At that age I was content with my Happy Meal.  Super sizing could wait 'till I got older.

A few years ago a woman came up to me and said..."I was in bed with you last night".   I checked my daytimer.  I had no record of such an event.  I tapped my memory.  Nothing there.  Then she said..."I listen to the Sunday Funnies every Sunday night in bed".  Ah, relief.  Although I was tempted to ask her for her phone number.  I didn't...I didn't!

I get asked about the Sunday Funnies (on Chum FM but not anymore) a lot. More questions about that show than just about anything else I did when I was there.  And I loved doing the show.  I loved finding new comics I hadn't heard of before.  I'd comb all the record stores for new material and would make a trip to Buffalo every couple of months and come back with bag fulls of material. Hearing Eddie Izzard, Jeff Foxworthy, Mitch Hedberg, Richard Jeni, Maria Bamford and Lewis Black for the first time was a revelation.

Who ever came up with the time slot for the funnies nailed it.  Bed time on Sunday night.  Between the sheets, lights off, it's quiet and the comics, if they're good ones, paint mental pictures for you.  People also told  me they'd listen to the show on their way back from a weekend at the cottage when they could concentrate on what you were listening to.

I was told the Funnies didn't fit the demographic of the radio station.  A lot of the people who tuned in weren't there for the morning show on Monday. I could never admit it then but I was proud of that. 

The one regret is that I never had the opprotunity to do much with Canadian comics. If they didn't have recorded material I couldn't play them.  Most Canadian comics didn't.  Frank Spadone and Gerry Dee did. I played them as often as possible and got great reaction. 

Near the end of the run of the Funnies a programming decision was made to get rid of the older comics, which also got rid of a lot of that picture painting story telling.  My arguement was that most of the younger, hipper comics don't work without dropping the "F" bomb.  We struck a deal. The "F" bomb is in but the show moves from 10 to 11. 

Even though that opened things up to a lot of material I had never been able to play, it wasn't the same after that.  I only got one complaint about language.  I got a ton of complaints about the change in time. People couldn't hang in until midnight and go to work the next day. 

I'm sure the woman who approached me was in bed by 10 as usual on Sundays.  But not with me.

I mentioned that my dad was having some medical problems and I've been spending a lot time in St. Catharines with my parents.  I think I had some romantic notion that it would be like going home.  I did grow up here but it's really not home anymore.  I left when I was 18 and spent more time living in Toronto than anywhere else. 

Everytime I come back to St. Catharines I take it for granted that I'll run into old school friends. The grocery store, the mall, a Wal Mart run for mom and dad.  Nope.  I've only run into 2 people who said they went to school with me and I hate to admit it but I didn't recognize them or their names.  Memory does fade. 

I was driving my parents to get their groceries this morning and I saw a sign that read "British Modbeats, Live, Saturday Night, UAW Hall".  The British Modbeats use to play at my highschool when I was a teenager.  When I moved to Toronto it was with the lead singer of that band and his new band. We lived in an old rooming house on Avenue Rd. where Saturday night food fights in the kitchen were the norm.

That's when I developed my love/hate relationship with Toronto.  I eventually moved west and then north. When I worked in the city I'd get in very early and when the shift was over I'd get out as fast as I could.  But the last little while I've had the opprotunity to spend time in the city again.  You know what?  I miss it.  It's vibrant, it's interesting, you have to learn to expect the unexpected.  In the country the unexpeted is a fugative cow grazing on your lawn or trying to get into your car at 1:30 in the morning  while a coyote is starring you down. 

I like St. Catharines but I can't say I miss it.  I like Mississauga but I don't miss it.  I've only been at home, my home, south of Barrie, for a couple of days a week over the past while.  I miss my cats, I miss my routine but it's an odd feeling that I didn't miss the area.  I do miss Toronto. I've come the realization that Toronto is my real home.  I'm comfortable there.

Mom and dad are in the kitchen right now reading obituaries out loud from the newspaper.  It's a daily ritual.  They don't need me full time anymore so I'm heading home.  But this  time instead of avoiding Toronto on my way north I think I'll drive through it and enjoy it.

I must admit that I've never been very good at relationships.  I could run down my track record but you really don't need to know the details.  Relationships are a funny thing.  They generally start with infatuation. Sometimes that burns out, other times it doesn't which is a rarity.

A lot of us think that a major problem with relationships is one person trying to change the other.  I don't think that's true.  I think it's you trying to change for them, trying to become something you think they want you to be instead of being yourself.  Big mistake. 

When you're young, naive and pliable it's not so hard.  As you get older it's near impossible.  I will always make a mess when I cook.  Oh I'll clean it up but probably not as fast as you'd like.  I will always have a cat in my life...maybe 2.  I will always disappear for a while just to think.  When I need to mentally escape I will always put headphones on and listen to Springsteen or Kristofferson.

I will forget to put the toilet seat down.  I will forget birthdays.  I'll make up for it but I'll still forget.  I will drink wine on Saturday nights.  I will avoid confrontation at all costs.  I've never believed yelling at each other is a substitute for a civil discussion to work out your problems.  I will never make my bed.  I will always have a messy car.  God, no wonder I'm lousey at this.

There's a great line from Seinfeld that George uses to get out of relationships..."it's not you...it's me".  It's the great escape.  The perfect way to end it.  But it's wrong.  It's really "us".  When things go south you both know it's happening.  One of the two of you has to be the brave one and verbalize it. 

A while back I had a long term relationship end.  She said...I just can't do this anymore.  I said...you're right...neither can I.  I think she was more shocked than I was that we came to the same conclusion.  

Springsteen (yes Springsteen again) does a song called "Brilliant Disguise".  It's all about turning yourself into something you think the other person wants you to be. So from the outset the relationship...isn't necessarily a lie but it is based on a bad premise.  We keep trying to  fool ourselves into thinking this is going to work.  It's a brilliant disguise.

Why do we keep trying?  I've never quite figured that out.  Maybe we're selfish and we don't want to be alone.  Maybe we think the next one will be the right one.  Or maybe George is right...maybe it is me. 

Lot of talk the last little while about Chris Bosh bailing out on The Raptors next season.  I've looked at players who want out of Toronto as similar to a couple breaking up.  In the case of Bosh he loves it here, the fans love him but it's just not working out. He's not giving us a winner and management isn't providing him with the tools to do that.  Time to pack your clothes? 

That was the same situation with Roy Halladay.  A guy who never complained,  who loved the city but in his heart he knew that the Blue Jays couldn't give him the one thing he wanted. He wanted to play on a contender and by the time the Jays could serve that up for him his career would be just about over.

That wasn't a messy breakup. It broke our heats to see him go but we knew it was for the best.  It's the old adage...."if you love them...let them go".  Easy to say, hard to do. But you know damn well it's for the best.  No bitterness about Halladay leaving. I wish him well and thank him for what he gave baseball fans in Toronto.  Too bad relationships can't end up so civilized.

'Course you do have messy break ups.  The Jays' Robbie Alomar and The Rappies' Vince Carter come to mind. Both of them wined. Both of them quit.  Not just on their teammates but on the fans.  That's like  having an affair before you announce that what every you had with your partner, you don't have anymore. 

Then there's the...throw him out of the house...break up.  Which is what happened with Mats Sundin.  He wanted to stay, The Learfs wanted him gone.  He wouldn't leave so basically they changed the locks on him when his contract was done and told him not to come home. 

I think Bosh will fall into the Halladay category.  We know what he wants and needs.  We also know we can't...or atleast The Raptors can't...give it to him.  I don't blame him if he doesn't come back to the Raptors next season. A good guy...a good player...he never quit he never bitched he put all he could into a relationship that just didn't work out. 

No hard feelings.  Thanks for trying.  He'll always have a place in our hearts...but not in our home...well probably not...not  anymore.

I mentioned on facebook that I'm with my parents 3 or 4 days a week after my dad took a fall and was laid up in hospital.  He's now on the mend and after a couple of weeks of this I think that I'm the one who needs help, not my 80something parents.

It started a few days ago when it got pretty warm out and a lot warmer in the house.  As I said on facebook it reminded me of that Seinfeld episode when Jerry and Elaine were visiting Jerrys' parents in Florida.  No matter how hot it got the air conditioning wasn't going to be put on.  I was sitting in the living room watching a repeat of Deal or No Deal with my dad (he had the remote...I have no say in what's watched) and I was sweating.  Literally sweating.  Little beads of sweat rolling down my nose.  Can we turn the air conditioning on?......NO.  Okay, let's just open a window and get some air in here.  NO...you open a window...you let all the heat out.  That would be the idea wouldn't it? I was out voted. 

When I first came down here I thought because of age and injury I'd be the alpha dog. It didn't take long for me to figure out my dad wasn't about to abdicate that position.  Okay...beta dog. I'll settle for no. 2. I wasn't anticipating my mother being as territorial as she is.  So I'm the gamma dog although I think if their pooch was still around I'd be demoted to delta dog.

The toughest thing to do is pass time.  I know they need certain things every day so I get a list first thing in the morning and spread them out.  It lets me get out of this suburban sauna every couple of hours.

There is not a single wine glass in this house. I'll have a glass or 2 in the evening, in a juice glass, to pass the time although as time goes by I'm upping the daily dosage.   My mom says.."what are drinking wine for...if your so hot all the time and you want a drink..drink ice water...it's better for you".  And that's true if all you wanted to do was get cool. The idea of the wine is to get numb.

I pass time in the evening on the phone talking with friends.  Mom says..."why are you always on the phone...you spend too much time on the phone...are those all long distant calls...who's paying for them?  I just say "yes mom...and I'm paying for them".  What I don't tell her is that I need to get out of living room and into a quiet space otherwise I spend the evening listening to the 2 of them tell me totally different stories at the same time about people I don't know with the television (oh,.,Deal or No Deal again)...cranked up to the decibel level of a Rage Against The Machine concert.

Listen...I love them dealry.  I'd do anything for them.  But I'm starting to understand what my mother meant when she would tell my brother and I that we drove her crazy when were were kids. Touche' mom.

p.s. They finally turned the a/c on.  I think I'll pour a glass of wine and phone a friend.

During his press conference Maple Leaf boss Brian Burke pretty much said that Dion Phaneuf would be the next captain of he Buds.  The final okee dokee will have to come from the coach, Ron Wilson but it's a given.

Now I keep hearing commentators says that it doesn't matter who the captain is.  It's no big deal.  It's a ridiculous statement.  It may not matter in Nashville or Atlanta or Dallas.  It may not be a big deal in Los Angeles or St. Louis or Carolina.  In Toronto it's a huge deal.

The captain of the Maple Leafs, for the most part, is the face of the franchise.  Think about it. Daryll Sitter, face of the franchise.  Doug Gilmour, face of the franchies.  Wendal, face of the franchise.  Ditto for Mats Sundin.

The captain is the go to guy.  The one the media crowds around after every win or in the case of the latest incarnation of the Buds every loss.  Sundin always seemed uncomfortable with that part of it and he took a long time to say a little.  But after every game he was the guy the media tracked down.  The coach speaks for the organization.  The captain speaks for the players. 

You want a Maple Leaf at your golf tournament you'd be happy with Tie Domi, happier with Sundin.  You'd take Borje Salming but you really wanted Sittler.  And..with the "C" comes endorsements.  Not many athletes say no to endorsements which gets their faces out there even more.

I was once offrered the "C" with my soccer team when I was a kid.  I turned it down.  I pointed to another kid who was a better player, had a better understanding of the game and had what I thought were obvious leadership qualities. 'Course if there had been an endorsement deal involved I might have rethought it.  What really hurt is that he ended up dating and years later marrying a girl I had a crush on.  I always wondered if it was the "C" or me.

The book on Phaneuf is that he's too immature to take over the roll.  But as Burke said in his state of the Buds address, when Phaneuf showed up in Toronto things changed.  He challenged his teammates on the ice and in the dressing room.  He challenged the coach. He even walked on fire when he challenged Burke.  Gutsey move. It Shocked the shingles off the boss but he got away with it.  He's vocal, he's good with the media, he pushes everyone to be better.  He's arguabley the Leafs best player.  Is he ready?  Not sure.  Does he have the qualities?  Yes he does.  In sport, in Toronto, there's no bigger gig and no higher profile than the captain of the Maple leafs.  It is a big deal.

I was listening to the "State of The Buds...Brian Burke" press conference while I drove back to St. Catharines today.  Now right up front..I never have and never will agree with the Phil Kessel trade but today Burke explained it.  And this is where he gets me.  The way he laid it out...it all made sense and I bought into it.

I like Brian Burke.  I like the way he talks.  I like his honesty.  I like that he admits to his mistakes.  He's not afraid to admit he's wrong.  He said something else that won me over today. He saId he encourages his players to speak to the media. Here's why. There are 19 thousand people at a typical Leaf game but he depends on the players and the media to get the message across to the rest of the GTA. 

Burke also has an understanding of media.  He knows and admits that the media has every right to question his moves.  That's what the media is supposed to do.  He understands debate and he understands the real meaning of arguing.  Arguing shouldn't have to be a negative. It should be opposing views looking for some kind of common ground. 

Too many people involved in sports...players...coaches...managers...owners...take offence when their decisions are challenged.  They hide..they never tell you the real deal on anything.  Buit I  think Burke gets it.  It's our money and our time that we give to his hockey team and we have the right to get straight answers to our questions. 

I thought he handled today's press conference beautifully.  I'm sure he didn't tell us everything but I'm willing to bet that the boss of all things "Big Blue"...was honest with what he did have to say.  Did he over estimate how good the Leafs would be this season?....yes.  Was the Kessel trade a bad one?...we don't know...not yet.  He said he didn't care how the Pittsburg's...the Washington's...the Chicago's...went from real bad to real good,,,.that's not the way he intends to do it.  He knows his reputation and his job is on the line but he's willing to take that chance that his way is the right way. 

Brian Burke is the most refreshing thing that's happened to this franchise in years.  Is he right?  I don't know.  Will it work?  No idea.  But I'm enjoying the ride with this guy.

After the presser was over today I was thinking about the things he talked about....and then said to myself...."damn"...he got  me again. He's very good at that....maybe too good.

I wrote a post a few days ago about wanting to see peoples faces on face book.  Wanted to know who I was talking to.  I've spent my entire adult life in radio and this may sound odd but I'm visual. I like to put a face to the name and even if I don't know them I can hear them talking through their comments.  Okay..maybe I watched too many X-file episodes but there's something comforting about seeing the person who's writing the words.

I'm also new to the facebook family. I never thought it was necessary. That's changed too.  I'm starting to get it.  I moved about an hour north of the city because I wanted privacy in my personal life.  'Course things change and now I'm quite enjoying reading comments and having a back and forth relatationship with people I've never met.  There's an individual who over the years I had only talked with on the phone or emailed.  Never met them. We finally got together one day and we've become very good friends.

One or 2 high school pals have contacted me. People I've worked with years ago and people I've never met before are contacting me.People I spent a week with in Barbados.  Being a neophyte at all of this I'm quite flattered.  People who don't know me ask about the health of my dad.  It's a new vista I've never experienced before...so excuse me if I'm a little overwhelmed by it all.

I always looked at facebook as a sort of party with your friends.  No picture ?...okay...then...(and understand this is in my mind)...it turns into a Halloween party with my new best friends wearing masks. So if you are a new friend...thanks...it means a lot that you'd want to be in contact with me and would take the time to do it.   If you're not then what the hell's the matter with you?  I figured I could say that now that we're all friends.

I have to admit up front I've never been much of a Phil Mickelson fan.  I was today.  This year's Masters was supposed to be all about Tiger.  When the day started I was expecting one of Wood's charges to the top of the leader board.  It didn't happen and it didn't matter. 

Mickelson was brilliant today.  Now I was a little preoccupied with other things this afternoon but I managed to keep one eye on the tv and the other where in needed to be.  For those who don't know the background, Mickelson"s wife Amy was diagnosed with breast cancer about a year ago. The same year his mother was diagosed with cancer.  Their lives changed.  His life changed.  He left the tour.  He didn't golf.  He was where he had to be.  With his wife and family. 

Now, just for a moment think about what Tiger has been through during the past few months.  What he admitted to and what he put his family through.  Then think about what Mickelson has had to deal with and what's happened to his family.  Mickelson isn't as sexy as Woods but who would you rather have as a roll model for your kids. 

Mickelson has won 3 Masters.  None will be more important than this one.  Amy spent a good part of the afternoon crying.  The camera caught a tear rolling down Mickelson's cheek.  It's one of those rare, truly magical moments in sport.  A moment that's bigger than sport.  A moment that will be etched in my mind.  As of today I have a soft spot for Mickelson. I believe deep in his heart he knows he did this for her.  She knows it too. 

I mentioned in an earlier post that I'm new to facebook.  I'm still learning and I still have some problems.  If I met you briefly 10 years ago chances are I wont remember your name.  I have a terrible time remembering names.  But...I will remember your face.  Some of the people who ask to be friends on facebook don't show their faces.  So I have no idea what I'm getting myself into.  Why do you want to be my friend and why do I want to be yours?  One friend told me to say yes to everyone.  Another told me to say no to anyone who's name or face you don't recognize.  I have no idea what to do.

Joe puts up a picture of his dog.  Sandy puts up a cartoon character. Sylvia shows me her kids.  Am I the the father or is this just being cute?  It does me no good trying to figure who  you are.

I am the last person in the world who thinks we need to be bogged down by a lot of rules. I've just spent 2 days trying to get my dad home from the hospital. They need the bed...he wants to go home...my mom wants him home. Geting him out is win..win..win.  We're all on the same page but when it comes to actually getting it done we're not reading the same book.

This is why we need rules. It's like being in the drive-thru at Tim Horton's.  The idea of the drive-thru is to get us in and out as quickly as possible. So do not order food. This needs to be a rule.  I'll let a donut slip by but don't order a sandwich, soup, or their latest breakfast delicacy.  Large regular and a medium double double.  It's that simple. You want food...go in and order it.  I was in line at a Tim's one morning at 1 am.  I was going to work. I sat there for 20 minutes because the car ahead of me ordered 7 sandwiches.  The woman at the takeout window thought it was a serious case of the munchies.  We need to be civilized.  We need Tim rules. 

I have friends who are lawyers.  Flip a looney to figure out who's buying the next round and before the coin lands they've got a 12 page draft on the table covering covering every concievable possibility.  I thought...heads or tails. They want to argue it in front of the supreme court.

If there's a little old lady behind you going into a store...hold the door for her. That needs to be a rule.  If you're over 40 do not wear your baseball hat backwards.  That needs to be a rule. If you're going bald a combover is not an option...shave your head and grow a goatee. That needs to be a rule. 

Actually what I really want here is to put a face to the name.  That way when we're going back forth I have a mental pitcture of who I'm talking with.  Even if we don't know each other it makes it more comfortable.  I feel like I really am getting to know the person.  Doesn't have to be a rule but it would be  nice. 

I mentioned this on my face book page earlier today.  My dad is pretty sick right now.  He's in the hospital and for the past week he's been in another world. Want a tv to watch? No.  How about the radio?  No. Well what if I brought you up some newspapers...maybe a book...what about a crossword puzzle?  No...No...and...well you get the gist.  It was sad to see him so sad.

Today he overheard someone mention the Masters.  He asked if it was starting today.  I told him it was and...Tiger Woods was playing.  A few moments of silence and he said...you know maybe we should see about getting that television hooked up. There was a change. When the golf started you could see it in his eyes.  He was thinking clearer, talking better and every time Tiger was on the screen he smiled. I haven't seen that smile in quite a while.

My dad and I would always talk sports when I was a kid. I'd tell him  Bobby Orr or Wayne Gretzky were the best I ever saw play hockey.  He'd tell me nope the best ever was Howie Morenz.  Howie Morenz was a Montreal Canadien great who died far too young in his 30's. Howie Morenz was born and raised in Mitchell Ontario.  Guess where my dad grew up?  On a farm outside of Mitchell.  You think he was being a homer with that one?

As an adult we would continue to talk sports although he'd complain that hockey was no good anymore.  Too many teams...too many players he didn't know.  He wanted to go back a 6 team NHL although I really think he started losing interest when they eliminated the "rover" position.

He would ask me once in a while about something I'd said on the radio but he wouldn't talk much about what I did for a living.  I asked my mom about that and she said "he gets up at 5:30 every morning to listen to you....but don't tell him I told you.

My dad and I have never watched The Masters together...until today.  I never thought it would be in a hospital room.  It had a lot to do with Tiger Wood's comeback.  Tiger had a pretty good day today...a 68 and 2 shots off the lead.  You know what?  My dad and I had a pretty good day today too.  Tiger may not  be the saint he used to be but for a few hours this afternoon he got his halo back.

The other day I heard someone on the radio say Bruce Springsteen isn't relevant.  He hasn't been relevant for 10 years.  First reaction?  You're an idiot. Second reaction?  I have to pull the stake out of my heart.  Bruce Springsteen not relevant?  

Important music to me is music I can see.  Music that paints a picture.  When I listen to Springsteen's "Thunder Road"  I can see it.  The opening line.."Screen door slams, Mary's dress waves.   Like a vision she dances across the porch as the radio plays."  I don"t know Mary but I can see her. I can see the door and her dress.  I can see her dancing....and I can hear Roy Orbison singing for the lonely.  I have 5 different Springsteen versions of this song.  I like the slower ones the best.  I'm convinced he worte "Thunder Road" as a ballad.  There's a story that needs telling.

I have a picture on my wall from an old edition of Rolling Stone magazine.  Woody Guthrie is teaching the class.  Bob Dylan in the front row taking notes.  Springsteen is behind him looking over Dylan's shoulder.  Behind Springsteen is John Mellencamp looking over his shoulder.  The great American music story tellers.  The times are different, the music is different but they all paint pictures.  They're all folk singers playing music for the "folk". 

I love reading history.  If it's written well I can see it.  I'm in Rome or Greece or Babylon.  I can see the people and the buildings.  I can hear their voices.  This is what Springsteen does for me with his lyrics.  I once heard it said about Albert Einstein, bad scientist, great artist.  He could visualize his equations and he painted pictures for us. 

I love the history of music.  In this case Guthrie inspires Dylan who inspires Springsteen who inspires Mellancamp. It's generational. You can draw a line and see the evolution of their music, where it comes from.   

I was talking with a friend about music and how important it is to us. They mentioned they had 3 songs that defined their life.  Songs that could tell you what they're all about and what's important to them if you listen closely enough.  So I listened.  I could hear things I already knew about my friend but these songs peeled off some layers to let me see other aspects of them I'd never realized.  The music you love can tell others a lot about who you are. It can define you.

Bruce Springsteen not relevant?  Depends on how close you listen.  Michael Jackson never was and never will be relevant to me.  He doesn't paint pictures for me.  Springsteen, Mellencamp, Dylan and Guthrie wrote about the human condition. About hopes and fears.  There's a timelessness to their lyrics. 

I doubt that Springsteen was ever truly relevant to the person I heard on the radio.  Maybe he didn't listen closely enough.  As long as Springsteen paints those pictures he'll always be relevant.....to me.  I guess relevant is relative.  

Actually, first I'll tell you what I don't what from Tiger Woods on Thursday when he begins his comeback to golf after falling on his putter and admitting he's a sexaholic.  I still think that booking yourself into a sexual rehab is nothing more than an admission that.."I got caught".  But no more.  Let it be a private matter between him and his family.

Here's what I want from Tiger at The Masters this weekend

1:  Monster drives.

2:  Get into trouble with your tee shots once in a while and amaze us with recovery shots. 

3:  Putt your pants off.

4:  Fist pumps.

5:  Make the cut.

6:  Keep your eyes off the blond in the gallery.

7:  Be within 4 or 5 shots of the lead on the final round.

8:  Let Padrig Harrington win.  He's my favourite.

A few days after I blogged about that kid who flipped me the bird and went from being Glinda the good witch to the wicked witch of St. Catharines in a nano-second I had an interesting conversation with a friend about parenting.  They had a situation come up with one of their kids that could have led to serious problems.  It was handled like this..."are you asking if you can do this or are you telling me you're going to do this".  That's where it was left.  The proper decision was made.  It shows a lot of respect for the parent and the parent showed faith in their kid. 

I was fascinated by this and I don't know if I would have handled it the same way.  I have 2 boys who I must say have turned out pretty well.  But when they were "that" age,,,and if you're a parent you know what "that" age is...I had some major problems.  They'd do something dumb, something really dumb, so it was time for dad to give them the goods on how to conduct themselves properly.  But in the back of my mind I was saying to myself.."geez I did the same thing when I was age...check that...what I did was worse".  There are things that, to this day, I still wont tell my parents about and I'm sure my kids are hiding secrets from me that a few hours of water boarding won't pry out of them. 

I guess I should have looked at this as passing down what I thought was my vast store of worldly knowledge.  But I always seconded guess myself figuring they would think that if the old man did it at my age then what did I do that was so wrong. 

My dad would tell me things, warn me about things, explain the complexities of life to me.  Very little of it made it from my ears to my brain.  What I discovered as I got older was that 90 % of what he told me was 100 % correct.  I thought he was being a pain in the ass.  He was being a good parent. 

My father never spanked me.  There were times I wish he had.  He never said much but he had one of those commanding voices that could instill fear.  He could make his point in a few seconds with a few words.  I would take an hour trying to reason with my sons, have a conversation about their problems and hope that everything filtered in.  There, I would tell myself, I've done my duty as a dad.  I was proud, until the little imps pulled a repeat preformance a few days later. 

My experience is that you can explain your experiences to your kids but for the most part they're going to want to experience things for themselves.  I'm a great believe in "do unto other as you would have them do unto you".  I've made alot of life decisions with that philosophy and I hope that's the one thing I've passed along to my kids.  But dammit...I wish I had thought of "are telling me or asking me". 

Interesting discussion going on on the sowny board.  It's a site that lets people debate different aspects of the media.  This one started with the title "the dumbing down of CBC'.  At issue was CBC radio using Tiger Woods' return to golf as it's lead story on Easter Monday.  'Course you have to keep in mind that holidays are notorious for being slow news days so in this case the choice of Tiger as the lead may have been the best of the worst.

The argument is, Woods' return is sports, it's not news.  I've had this discussion many times.  If  I had a sports story that I thought  transcended  my insulated world populated by jocks and jockettes I'd go see the news caster and say "your's or mine?"  And there's the point. There are times when an entertainment story or a sports story is a legitamate news story.

My first taste of this came when Cassius Clay became a Black Muslim and changed his name to Muhammad Ali.  Most of us didn't  know who the Black Muslims were. If a high end athlete did that today it's a footnote.  In the early 60's it's a major  news story. 

The second time it happened?  Guess who....Muhammad Ali again.  He  refused induction into the army  as a protest against the Viet Nam war.  The highest profile athlete in the world and certainly North America being stripped of his title for political reasons leapfrogs sports and lands in news.  

Canada beats the US for the Olympic gold in Vancouver  If it was just a game and just a gold medal then it's just a sports story.  It was the reaction to the win that made it different.  Millions of people pouring into the streets in every city in the country celebrating.  The television ratings proved  that this wasn't just a game to us. It was an event that deserved news coverage.  You don't get this reaction if the Maple Leafs beat Nashville on a Saturday night.

And while we're talking Maple Leafs....if they win a Stanley Cup...okay this is a stretch because we know  that wont happen...but humour me here...let's say they did win a Stanley Cup....news or sports?   Given  the history of the franchise and the fascination that comes with it for the fans and non fans I think it becomes legitamate news.

I've always decided on what my lead story was going to be on what item had the most interest to the greatest number of listeners. It's a subjective decision and this is what's happening to news. The death of Princess  Diana was a major news story.  Did it deserve the amount of coverage it got for the length of  time it was given?  Probably not.  But at the time she was one of the highest profile celebrities in the world and the way she died  was a lot more riveting than a municipal tax hike.  I was outraged when, not long afterwards, Mother Teresa passed away.  A woman of good works all her life, a woman who some thought was a living saint and she becomes a foot note in the news because of the coverage afforded Princess Diana.  I didn't agree with it but I inderstood it. 

The worst example for me was the 24/7 coverage given the death of Anna Nicole Smith. What was she?  A c-list celebrity who had no right being a celebrity except that she married an old guy and inherited his money.  The high light of her entertainment career was a few guest spots on Hollywood Squares where she didn't seem to understand the questions.  I lost a lot respect for CNN because of it's wall to wall coverage. 

A South Carolina senator who no one knows out side of his state runs off to Brazil to be with his mistress?  Sounds more like a "Desperate Housewives" plot.  News?  Yes,  The mid west "family first" congressman getting caught with a male hooker.  News?  You bet.  The purists will hate this but if you work for a music radio station with a heavy emphasis on entertainment the winner of American Idol is a legitamate lead news story. You play to your listeners. I would bet the majority of your audience is far more interested in that than the Bank of Canada upping interest rates.

So, Tiger Woods return to golf as a lead story?  Is that the dumbing down of the CBC?  Considering the coverage Woods has been getting the past little while I'm sure it was far more interesting to more listeners than story no. 2 and the lesser of 2 evils.

I've been in St. Catharines the last little while taking care of some family matters.  While I've been here I've been chauffering my mother around.  Hey, mom did it for me when I was a kid and couldn't drive so I can do it for her now that's she's over 80 and they wont let her drive. 

A few days ago we were travelling along and up ahead.....peddling in front of me was a young girl...maybe 10 or 11.  Sort of the all Canadian suburban kid.  Pink bike with matching pink helmet.  Streamers coming out of her handle bars and a cute little blue plastic carrier.  Now, I was doing the speed limit,  I have to do the speed limit when I'm with my mom.  In her eyes I'm still the kid at highschool who needed 2 cracks at getting out of grade 9.  If I'm doing 55 in a 50 I've failed the course and she lets me know in terms that are not uncertain.

I'm coming up to the girl...and...without warning...without a signal...she decided to pull a 1-80 right in front of me.  Not sure what possessed her to do that but I managed to slam on the brakes to avoid hitting her.  There was no  outrage on my part.  I didn't say anything I just looked at her and spread my arms out...like "what's the deal kid?"  She looked at me right in the eyes and......she gave me the finger.....she flipped the bird at me.  I said to my mother..."did you see that?"  My mother says..."why that little...."   At that point I don't know what shocked me more...the non verbal flipping...or the very verbal description of this kid by my mother. 

My all knowing mom...wrote it off  to bad parenting which I didn't challenge.  I didn't want to remind her of all the dumb things I've done in my life and imply that a review on her parenting background might be in order. It wasn't bad parenting...it was bad decision making by her son. And I get it.. this pre-teen drama queen knows what "the bird"  is...what it means...and when to use it. But I was shocked that this little road rage rookie chose me to practice on.