I really don't like shopping. I don't like the crowds; I don't like waiting in lines and, maybe most importantly I feel like most stores take my business for granted. Why else would they hire inattentive, rude and often useless employees? A case to illustrate my point: just a couple of nights ago I went to a local Shopper's Drug Mart to pick up a couple of things. I brought my items to the cash where two twenty-somethings were manning the tills and the guy "serving" me (as opposed to "servicing" me, which would be a whole different and weird ball of wax) barely acknowledged my presence and kept riveted to his vapid faux-blonde colleague's banal chatter: "This restaurant is, like, called the Farm Team something? It's in the Glebe?"
He tried multiple times to scan the items without looking, contributing the odd, pithy nugget to the conversation: "Really? Like, what kinda food do they serve?" Finally, everything rung up, he glanced at the screen and deigned the briefest glance in my direction: "$9.56" and held his hand out while redirecting his attention to his ditsy colleague. I left the store shaking my head, wishing this was an isolated incident. I remember a similar situation at our Loblaws, two young lads speaking to each other, right past me and my then nine-year-old girl about some "bitch" one or the other of them picked up at some party. I really wanted to complain to a manager about that one, but alas, I was in too much of a hurry.
So many stores don't bother to educate or train their staff in the products they sell. Canadian Tire, at least outside its automotive department, is particularly bad. I remember buying a wheelbarrow there once, one with two wheels, and asked the pimply adolescent serving me what the benefit of two wheels might be - more a test than because I didn't know - and he looked at me like I had asked to solve Fermat's last theorem. To make me think even darker thoughts, I got home and found that the two boxes the wheelbarrow came in contained parts for two completely different products. And don't get me started about the big sporting goods stores - when they try to offer advice, especially with shoes, it's usually wrong.
I have many other pet peeves, but I don't want to be entirely negative. Lee Valley Tools, which I have raved about in a previous post, is good example. Knowledgeable and friendly staff, the company stands behind the products it sells with a generous return policy. Twice in the past year I've actually had a staff member try to talk me out of buying their products: the first a tool sharpening jig and the second an after-market mitre gauge for my table saw ("well, if you're going to buy it, try it for a couple of weeks and if you don't think it was worth it, bring it back.")
Also, recently we had a great experience with Kiddy Kobbler here in Ottawa. While we waited for someone to help us, we browsed the shop and picked out a number of running shoes - for actual running - that our daughter, Lena, might like to try. Finally, someone came to help us. A delightful young woman with rainbow coloured hair first measured Lena's feet and listened as we explained what we needed. She went off to the back and came back with three or four shoeboxes. None of the shoes were the ones Lena was particularly interested in so we asked if we try on the other two pairs. The sales rep grudgingly agreed, though she commented, politely, that she was pretty sure they wouldn't suit Lena's needs because they would likely be two wide and wouldn't perform well give the size and shape of Lena's feet. Sure enough Lena didn't find either pair very comfortable, but she found a very comfortable shoe among the options originally brought. In a later Facebook exchange with the store's owner/manager, he explained that his staff are trained extensively on the products they sell and on how to "read" kids' feet and they are always evaluating customer feedback to help decide which products to carry or discontinue.
Anyway, this has been on mind in part because Christmas shopping season is upon us - crowds will be getting larger, parking lots will be getting crammed, stress will be getting higher and frustration will be boiling over and I just wish something would make it all more pleasant. Would love to hear your own exceptional adventures with retail - positive or not.
Well, into the breach and all that....Happy Shopping everyone.
Sunday, 24 November 2013
Friday, 22 November 2013
Kate's Ongoing Health Adventures
A couple of weeks ago, on a Saturday evening, Kate and her mom returned from a trip. I picked them up at the train station and both were tired, but in good spirits. Sunday morning, Kate started feeling a little under the weather - vomiting, chills and coughing. By Wednesday evening, she was delirious, incoherent and clearly hypoxic with blue-tinged lips and eyelids. She had brought our ten-year-old daughter to bed and fallen asleep beside her. I woke her up and we moved to the adjacent bedroom, where I tried speaking with her. She was making absolutely no sense and was having trouble answering simple arithmetic questions. Then she realized she had taken a double dose of the medication she is taking for issues related to her cancer, including an opiate for pain.
I was very concerned, and Lena was terrified despite Kate's slurred assurances that she would be fine. Finally, Lena and I insisted on taking her to the hospital. When we arrived we went directly to ER nurse's station. I could sense a bit of hostility from the triage nurse and could imagine her thinking "They came to the ER for a cold?". The nurse took Kate's vitals and I could see the concern sweep over her face - her heart was racing, her blood pressure was very low and her oxygen saturation was at a scary 75%. She told us that Kate likely had an infection that had gone septic (entered her bloodstream). Seeing how terrified Lena was, she suggested we stay in the waiting room while Kate was brought back to be hooked up to oxygen and fluids. Once that was done, Kate would look a bit better and hopefully be more lucid. Then I could bring Lena back to see her mom in a better state and that would calm her down. This was the first of many acts of kindness we would experience that night.
Indeed, we brought Lena back and she kissed her mom and had a few words with her and she heard the doctor, Dr. Caytak, tell me that Kate had pneumonia that likely went septic but that she was being treated with powerful antibiotics and fluids and would be fine. Eventually, the nurses and doctors convinced me to take our daughter to my in-laws, which I did.
When I returned to the hospital about an hour later, I walked into Kate's room and she seemed to be sleeping fitfully. A few minutes later, a doctor from Medical Oncology came in wanting to examine her. He tried waking her up, first calling her name, then gently shaking her. She would not awaken. The doctor became more insistent: yelling in her ear, shaking her vigourously, jabbing her sharply in her feet with his pen and pressing very hard on her finger nail with his pen and finally shining his penlight into her eyes. He told me: "This is very concerning" and rushed out to consult with the ER doctor. Dr. Caytak showed up, staying in the doorway looking from Kate to the monitor that was tracking her vital signs. Then all hell broke loose.
The doctor yelled, "She's going into respiratory collapse!" and he called to an orderly to come bring her to the Resuscitation Area. The orderly sauntered toward the room and the doctor yelled "Hurry! Hurry!" The orderly ran in and rushed her down the hall towards resuscitation and every doctor and nurse on the floor exited right behind them.
"Hysterical" isn't a very flattering word to describe someone's state of mind, but that's exactly what I was. In that moment I thought my wife was going to die. I was sobbing and begging for her to live, for the doctors and nurses to save her life. I couldn't get my head around being without her. I couldn't imagine how I would tell our beautiful, sweet little girl, who just an hour earlier heard the doctor say "She'll be fine", that her mommy passed away.
A nurse named Dan came out and started to try to talk me down, explaining that they were getting ready to intubate her and put her on a respirator and that she was surrounded by a very professional team that was well trained and equipped to deal with the situation. He spent maybe five minutes with me, but I'll never forget him and the enormous gratitude I felt for him giving me that faint bit of hope.
Several minutes later, the medical oncologist, Dr. Holmes, I believe, came out to say that as they were preparing to intubate her, Kate awoke from her slumber (wondering, she would later tell me, what the hell was going on and why was everyone standing around her like that) and was talking. I was able to see her, still sobbing, and eventually they returned her to her room.
I don't remember who explained to me what had happened or when they told me, but here's the story: When Dr. Caytak returned with Dr. Holmes to Kate's room and witnessed his failed attempts to arouse her from her sleep he saw that her blood pressure and respiratory rate were dropping - essentially they feared she was about to stop being able to breath on her own. They explained that her septic infection lowered her blood pressure and respiratory rates to an already low level. Then someone realized that among the drugs she had doubled up on in her delirium was a long-lasting opiate called dilauded and when that started kicking in, her vitals started declining even more. Once they realized this, they were able to counteract the effects with an anti-narcotic medication called Narcan and her vital signs stabilized.
The next several hours were very stressful: her blood pressure and respiratory rate remained low and here heart rate fast, but they were stable and eventually began to improve. Kate was eventually moved to a part of the hospital called the Acute Monitoring Area, where her vital signs could be monitored continuously. After a day or so there, she was released to the General Medicine ward and was eventually released the Saturday after we first took her to the hospital. Unfortunately, the day after she was released, she was feeling worse and had to be readmitted. Finally, just yesterday, eight days after we rushed her to the hospital, she was again discharged, hopefully for good this time. Though her recovery from the pneumonia will likely be long, she is feeling much better than she did even two days ago.
As an added bonus, now that she's home again, she can work on all the dishes and laundry that have piled up for the last eight days.
So many people to thank. I was really impressed by the care Kate and I got at the hospital. I don't know the name of the triage nurse who saw her first, but she along with the Nurse-in-Charge, Bonnie, got Kate in to see a doctor right away and showed tremendous compassion towards one very scared little girl. I cannot say enough about Drs. Caytak of the ER, Holmes of Medical Oncology, Sun of General Medicine. Kate's nurse that first night in Emergent Care, Anny, was just the type of person who should be in health care: professional, empathetic and very, very kind and just a quality human being. I really can't thank her enough. Also, Dan, who I talk about above, who had to deal with me at what had to be the scariest moment of my life.
Kate had the help of so many doctors, nurses, orderlies, respiratory therapists and physiotherapists over the next several days that I can't possibly mention them all here, but am grateful to everyone in Emergent Care, the Acute Monitoring Area, the General Medicine Ward and the Lung Disease Ward. Also many thanks to all the doctors from Medical Oncology who treated her after she was admitted the second time, notably Dr. Foeschl and Dr. Condan.
Finally, I can't thank enough all the friends and family who visited Kate or called or encouraged her via Facebook and for supporting me and Lena.
Though I complain a lot about suburbia, Kate, Lena and I have among the best neighbours in the world. I especially want to thank Barb, who cooked for Lena and me, who visited Kate in the hospital and who picked Kate up at the hospital and drove her home so she could spend a few hours with her family on her birthday. I also want to thank Pam for, among many other things, looking after the dog so I could spend more time at the hospital with Kate.
I was very concerned, and Lena was terrified despite Kate's slurred assurances that she would be fine. Finally, Lena and I insisted on taking her to the hospital. When we arrived we went directly to ER nurse's station. I could sense a bit of hostility from the triage nurse and could imagine her thinking "They came to the ER for a cold?". The nurse took Kate's vitals and I could see the concern sweep over her face - her heart was racing, her blood pressure was very low and her oxygen saturation was at a scary 75%. She told us that Kate likely had an infection that had gone septic (entered her bloodstream). Seeing how terrified Lena was, she suggested we stay in the waiting room while Kate was brought back to be hooked up to oxygen and fluids. Once that was done, Kate would look a bit better and hopefully be more lucid. Then I could bring Lena back to see her mom in a better state and that would calm her down. This was the first of many acts of kindness we would experience that night.
Indeed, we brought Lena back and she kissed her mom and had a few words with her and she heard the doctor, Dr. Caytak, tell me that Kate had pneumonia that likely went septic but that she was being treated with powerful antibiotics and fluids and would be fine. Eventually, the nurses and doctors convinced me to take our daughter to my in-laws, which I did.
When I returned to the hospital about an hour later, I walked into Kate's room and she seemed to be sleeping fitfully. A few minutes later, a doctor from Medical Oncology came in wanting to examine her. He tried waking her up, first calling her name, then gently shaking her. She would not awaken. The doctor became more insistent: yelling in her ear, shaking her vigourously, jabbing her sharply in her feet with his pen and pressing very hard on her finger nail with his pen and finally shining his penlight into her eyes. He told me: "This is very concerning" and rushed out to consult with the ER doctor. Dr. Caytak showed up, staying in the doorway looking from Kate to the monitor that was tracking her vital signs. Then all hell broke loose.
The doctor yelled, "She's going into respiratory collapse!" and he called to an orderly to come bring her to the Resuscitation Area. The orderly sauntered toward the room and the doctor yelled "Hurry! Hurry!" The orderly ran in and rushed her down the hall towards resuscitation and every doctor and nurse on the floor exited right behind them.
"Hysterical" isn't a very flattering word to describe someone's state of mind, but that's exactly what I was. In that moment I thought my wife was going to die. I was sobbing and begging for her to live, for the doctors and nurses to save her life. I couldn't get my head around being without her. I couldn't imagine how I would tell our beautiful, sweet little girl, who just an hour earlier heard the doctor say "She'll be fine", that her mommy passed away.
A nurse named Dan came out and started to try to talk me down, explaining that they were getting ready to intubate her and put her on a respirator and that she was surrounded by a very professional team that was well trained and equipped to deal with the situation. He spent maybe five minutes with me, but I'll never forget him and the enormous gratitude I felt for him giving me that faint bit of hope.
Several minutes later, the medical oncologist, Dr. Holmes, I believe, came out to say that as they were preparing to intubate her, Kate awoke from her slumber (wondering, she would later tell me, what the hell was going on and why was everyone standing around her like that) and was talking. I was able to see her, still sobbing, and eventually they returned her to her room.
I don't remember who explained to me what had happened or when they told me, but here's the story: When Dr. Caytak returned with Dr. Holmes to Kate's room and witnessed his failed attempts to arouse her from her sleep he saw that her blood pressure and respiratory rate were dropping - essentially they feared she was about to stop being able to breath on her own. They explained that her septic infection lowered her blood pressure and respiratory rates to an already low level. Then someone realized that among the drugs she had doubled up on in her delirium was a long-lasting opiate called dilauded and when that started kicking in, her vitals started declining even more. Once they realized this, they were able to counteract the effects with an anti-narcotic medication called Narcan and her vital signs stabilized.
The next several hours were very stressful: her blood pressure and respiratory rate remained low and here heart rate fast, but they were stable and eventually began to improve. Kate was eventually moved to a part of the hospital called the Acute Monitoring Area, where her vital signs could be monitored continuously. After a day or so there, she was released to the General Medicine ward and was eventually released the Saturday after we first took her to the hospital. Unfortunately, the day after she was released, she was feeling worse and had to be readmitted. Finally, just yesterday, eight days after we rushed her to the hospital, she was again discharged, hopefully for good this time. Though her recovery from the pneumonia will likely be long, she is feeling much better than she did even two days ago.
As an added bonus, now that she's home again, she can work on all the dishes and laundry that have piled up for the last eight days.
***
So many people to thank. I was really impressed by the care Kate and I got at the hospital. I don't know the name of the triage nurse who saw her first, but she along with the Nurse-in-Charge, Bonnie, got Kate in to see a doctor right away and showed tremendous compassion towards one very scared little girl. I cannot say enough about Drs. Caytak of the ER, Holmes of Medical Oncology, Sun of General Medicine. Kate's nurse that first night in Emergent Care, Anny, was just the type of person who should be in health care: professional, empathetic and very, very kind and just a quality human being. I really can't thank her enough. Also, Dan, who I talk about above, who had to deal with me at what had to be the scariest moment of my life.
Kate had the help of so many doctors, nurses, orderlies, respiratory therapists and physiotherapists over the next several days that I can't possibly mention them all here, but am grateful to everyone in Emergent Care, the Acute Monitoring Area, the General Medicine Ward and the Lung Disease Ward. Also many thanks to all the doctors from Medical Oncology who treated her after she was admitted the second time, notably Dr. Foeschl and Dr. Condan.
***
Finally, I can't thank enough all the friends and family who visited Kate or called or encouraged her via Facebook and for supporting me and Lena.
Though I complain a lot about suburbia, Kate, Lena and I have among the best neighbours in the world. I especially want to thank Barb, who cooked for Lena and me, who visited Kate in the hospital and who picked Kate up at the hospital and drove her home so she could spend a few hours with her family on her birthday. I also want to thank Pam for, among many other things, looking after the dog so I could spend more time at the hospital with Kate.
Monday, 2 September 2013
A Puppy
After Lena's sustained lobbying efforts for the past couple of years, including Kate's more recent participation, we finally knuckled under and bought a puppy: a golden doodle we've named Mango. As the picture below shows, she's got a pretty irresistible face, and a very sweet disposition, which is a good thing because less than a day after we got her home, I was wanting to get rid of her.
I was not raised with animals. My mother was afraid of them. So, with my lack of experience I didn't appreciate fully what we were getting into. I wasn't prepared for the rather euphemistic "accidents" all over the carpet that has already been ravaged by two cats vomiting, coughing up hairballs and occasionally pooping on it as well as three humans who can't seem to walk two feet without slopping their coffee, tea, pop all over the place. I wasn't prepared for the barking and whining when we put her in her crate. I am assured, though, that she will be trained out of this and that can't come soon enough for me.
Though I can't honestly say at this point I don't regret the decision, I do recognize the benefits. A couple of weeks ago we dog-sat the neighbours' golden doodle and that went well. Lily was house broken, obedient and affectionate and we all loved having her around. Mango is a nice, friendly dog, and seems to be fitting in well with the family and as much as she's driving me crazy - really driving me crazy - the following picture makes me smile and will hopefully give me the will to stay with it a little longer. Best of friends.
 |
| Mango |
I was not raised with animals. My mother was afraid of them. So, with my lack of experience I didn't appreciate fully what we were getting into. I wasn't prepared for the rather euphemistic "accidents" all over the carpet that has already been ravaged by two cats vomiting, coughing up hairballs and occasionally pooping on it as well as three humans who can't seem to walk two feet without slopping their coffee, tea, pop all over the place. I wasn't prepared for the barking and whining when we put her in her crate. I am assured, though, that she will be trained out of this and that can't come soon enough for me.
Though I can't honestly say at this point I don't regret the decision, I do recognize the benefits. A couple of weeks ago we dog-sat the neighbours' golden doodle and that went well. Lily was house broken, obedient and affectionate and we all loved having her around. Mango is a nice, friendly dog, and seems to be fitting in well with the family and as much as she's driving me crazy - really driving me crazy - the following picture makes me smile and will hopefully give me the will to stay with it a little longer. Best of friends.
 |
| Lena and Mango |
Monday, 22 July 2013
A Trip tp Manotick
After trips to Niagara Falls, Disney World and Calgary last year, we've decided not to take any big trips this summer. So, we're going to play tourist in our own little part of the world. Last week, we visited Manotick, a small, rural suburb of Ottawa where we had a surprisingly good time.
Kate, Lena and Lena's friend, Sidney and I first stopped at Watson's Mill, a 19th century flour mill along the Rideau Canal. The building houses plenty of artifacts and equipment demonstrating how wheat was received and transformed into flour. The mill also holds demonstrations of the machinery in action and grinds and sells small batches of the flour it produces.
If that isn't enough, a ghost is said to roam the property. Apparently, one of the mill's owners, Joseph Currier married a young American woman, Ann Corsby, shortly after the mill began operation. At an event marking its first year in business, Currier was showing young Ann around the joint when her dress got caught in some of the machinery and pulled her violently into a beam, killing her instantly. Alas, her spectre was not in evidence the day we were there.
After the mill, we headed across the street to the Dickinson House, where the family of the other co-owner, Moss Dickinson, lived until the 1930s. Again, the house is furnished in a mix of the Victorian and Edwardian styles and the resident interpreters gave an excellent overview of both the Dickinson family history and of life in the 19th and early 20th century. I love this kind of small "h" history -the history of everyday life and every man and woman - very much. Sadly, one of the interpreters mentioned to us that the City of Ottawa is considering selling the property and shutting the museum. Losing this little piece of local history would be a shame.
We had worked up quite an appetite after our fix of industrial and social history, so we headed to the corner of Mitch Owens Drive and Main Street where a two-trailer food truck sits on a vacant lot. Pizza All'Antica is the kind of mom-and-pop operation I love. Actually, the operation seems to be run by a man and his mother-in-law. The front man, Joe, is clearly proud of what he is doing with his business. He is a big friendly guy who is quite happy to talk about the pizzas he makes with fresh ingredients, many imported from Naples where, many allege, pizza was born, and then baked in a mobile wood-burning oven. Just sitting at the picnic table in the lot smelling the smoke was worth the trip, but the pizza is quite possibly the best I've ever had. Very fresh toppings, including a wonderful fresh-tasting homemade sauce, sit on top of a perfectly cooked and very thin crust. As Kate said, the pizza quells your hunger without it feeling heavy on your stomach. I really can't say enough about this place. If you're ever in Manotick, you have to stop and try it. Even if you're not in Manotick, this place is worth making a special trip to try.
Right across the street from the pizza place is a store called Chilly Chiles. This business sells hundreds, if not thousands, of different kids of hot sauce. The store used to be located in the Byward Market and I used to shop there regularly, then it moved to Navan, which is too far afield for us, before more recently moving to Manotick. After lunch, Lena and I went across to check it out. Shelf after shelf hot sauce. Even if you don't like hot sauce, the store if worth checking out for the art on the labels, many of which are, well, saucy. Derrieres, often with flames shooting out of them, feature prominently. After sampling several (sauces, not flame-throwing butts), I left with nearly $30 worth of sauce. Another great store - a locally owned business selling products that the proprietors are passionate about but that probably aren't making them rich.
For such a small town, Manotick has quite a lot to offer and I can recommend it as a day-trip destination to anyone living in the Ottawa area.
Kate, Lena and Lena's friend, Sidney and I first stopped at Watson's Mill, a 19th century flour mill along the Rideau Canal. The building houses plenty of artifacts and equipment demonstrating how wheat was received and transformed into flour. The mill also holds demonstrations of the machinery in action and grinds and sells small batches of the flour it produces.
If that isn't enough, a ghost is said to roam the property. Apparently, one of the mill's owners, Joseph Currier married a young American woman, Ann Corsby, shortly after the mill began operation. At an event marking its first year in business, Currier was showing young Ann around the joint when her dress got caught in some of the machinery and pulled her violently into a beam, killing her instantly. Alas, her spectre was not in evidence the day we were there.
After the mill, we headed across the street to the Dickinson House, where the family of the other co-owner, Moss Dickinson, lived until the 1930s. Again, the house is furnished in a mix of the Victorian and Edwardian styles and the resident interpreters gave an excellent overview of both the Dickinson family history and of life in the 19th and early 20th century. I love this kind of small "h" history -the history of everyday life and every man and woman - very much. Sadly, one of the interpreters mentioned to us that the City of Ottawa is considering selling the property and shutting the museum. Losing this little piece of local history would be a shame.
We had worked up quite an appetite after our fix of industrial and social history, so we headed to the corner of Mitch Owens Drive and Main Street where a two-trailer food truck sits on a vacant lot. Pizza All'Antica is the kind of mom-and-pop operation I love. Actually, the operation seems to be run by a man and his mother-in-law. The front man, Joe, is clearly proud of what he is doing with his business. He is a big friendly guy who is quite happy to talk about the pizzas he makes with fresh ingredients, many imported from Naples where, many allege, pizza was born, and then baked in a mobile wood-burning oven. Just sitting at the picnic table in the lot smelling the smoke was worth the trip, but the pizza is quite possibly the best I've ever had. Very fresh toppings, including a wonderful fresh-tasting homemade sauce, sit on top of a perfectly cooked and very thin crust. As Kate said, the pizza quells your hunger without it feeling heavy on your stomach. I really can't say enough about this place. If you're ever in Manotick, you have to stop and try it. Even if you're not in Manotick, this place is worth making a special trip to try.
Right across the street from the pizza place is a store called Chilly Chiles. This business sells hundreds, if not thousands, of different kids of hot sauce. The store used to be located in the Byward Market and I used to shop there regularly, then it moved to Navan, which is too far afield for us, before more recently moving to Manotick. After lunch, Lena and I went across to check it out. Shelf after shelf hot sauce. Even if you don't like hot sauce, the store if worth checking out for the art on the labels, many of which are, well, saucy. Derrieres, often with flames shooting out of them, feature prominently. After sampling several (sauces, not flame-throwing butts), I left with nearly $30 worth of sauce. Another great store - a locally owned business selling products that the proprietors are passionate about but that probably aren't making them rich.
For such a small town, Manotick has quite a lot to offer and I can recommend it as a day-trip destination to anyone living in the Ottawa area.
Tuesday, 16 July 2013
Young People and the Ottawa RBC Bluesfest
Every year, Ottawa, Ontario hosts North America's second largest festival celebrating blues music. Acts from around the world attract hundreds of thousands of visitors every year. What may be less well-known is that the Bluesfest is also very active in the community throughout the year, bringing blues history, culture and the music itself into local schools (through their Blues in the Schools program). Also, through their Be in the Band program, they bring together youth from across the city who are interested in playing in a band and matches them with potential bandmates, providing mentorship and rehearsal space, and giving them an opportunity to perform at Bluesfest.
This year, our daughter, Lena, got to take advantage of one of the Bluesfest's youth-oriented good works. Lena has been taking guitar lessons for the past year and a half at the Ottawa Folklore Centre (OFC) with local blues musician and awesome instructor, Jesse Greene (in fact, Lena, Kate and I think she may be the awesomest in the city). A little over a month ago, Jesse informed us that every year for past several years, American blues and folk musician, TJ Wheeler, comes to town for Bluesfest and in the week leading up to the festival's final weekend gathers ten OFC student between the ages of 8 and 18 and provides instruction, teaches them some songs and how to play together as a band. The kids get together with TJ for two hours every day for five days and perform on stage at Bluesfest on the festival's final day. In addition, each participant would get three passes to the festival for the day of their performance. All, incidentally, at no charge. Jesse encouraged Lena to sign up for the program.
Lena is quite a shy and reserved girl, at least when she is among a group of people she doesn't know, and she has been uncomfortable performing even for a small group of family friends. Also, since the program is advertised as an acoustic band, Lena was not entirely enthusiastic because she found her own acoustic guitar a bit difficult to play. Nonetheless, after talking with me and Kate and with gentle encouragement from Jesse, Lena decided to register.
Two months ago, I had never heard of TJ Wheeler. Today, I am one of his biggest fans. He is, simply, great with kids. Part music historian, part philosopher, a healthy bit of a comedian and 100% musician and teacher, TJ kept the mood light but focussed and managed over the course of 10 hours of instruction to turn this rag-tag group of mostly pre-teens of varying ability into an impressive and well-choreographed band, which TJ ended up dubbing the Cacophony Blues Band.
Throughout the week, Lena would go to class, sit quietly in her chair without interacting much with the other kids, and rehearse the songs with her bandmates and TJ. As I say, she is shy and reserved and so didn't volunteer to sing any verses or do any guitar solos but that was fine with us because her just agreeing to do the program was a big step for her. I sat outside the rehearsal room for most of the sessions and had a great time seeing the kids have a great time, listening to TJ's corny jokes and seeing the group come together. TJ taught them three songs: The House of the Rising Sun, Take me to the River, Hey Bo Diddley and together they wrote a fourth song, which I'll call the OFC Bluesfest Blues.
As the day of the performance got closer, Lena began getting nervous about being on stage and playing in front of a crowd. She became quite quiet backstage in the hours leading up to their performance. But, when the time came, she climbed on stage with TJ and the other kids ssought out a spot behind the other kids. She looked a little overwhelmed. But as they got going on their first tune (House of the Rising Sun), she banged away on her guitar and by the end of it, she had a BIG smile on her face. The crowd went wild with every song, every guitar or harmonica solo, every verse sung. The kids were clearly having a great time and the parents in the crowd, Kate and I included, were damn near bursting with pride.
Lena came off the stage PUMPED. She told us that once they started playing that first tune her nervousness disappeared and she absolutely loved the experience. She thought the crowd's applause and cheering was very cool. Where during the course of the week and concert, she was happy to stick to the background and go about her business, she came off the stage saying how if she's lucky enough to do it next year, she'll definitely want to sing (though she's a little uncertain about doing a guitar solo) and take on a bigger role.
I talked with TJ backstage before the concert and was telling him that more than anything the kids may have learned musically during the week, I thought the real value of the experience, which would spill over in all parts of their lives, was the confidence they gained from doing it. He agreed and shared an anecdote of one kid he taught who had some clear problems socializing with others and who emerged as a solid performer and who he saw year after year develop into a more confident individual who made friends more easily and who was courted by a number of bands. TJ also shared that being a musician and performer has had a profound impact on his life and that's why he works so much with kids: "Just passing it on" he said.
Amen and thank you, TJ
The whole day the Cacophony Blues Band performed, all the bands that benefitted from the Be in the Band program also performed. They were all awesome. Getting up on stage and performing in front of a crowd, many for the first time, can be intimidating but they all did it with enthusiasm. I really enjoyed seeing these kids giving it their all. The head of the OFC music School, Alan Marsden, was responsible not only for bringing TJ Wheeler into the OFC, but was also the coordinator for the Be in the Band segment of Bluesfest and deserves massive praise. He did a bang-up job.
As I said earlier, Lena was a little hesitant about performing with an acoustic guitar because she's got small hands and finds fretting on the acoustic a lot harder than her electric guitar. Kate was talking about this with our good friend, Joe, who is both an accomplished musician and guitar technician. So, he came over and took away Lena's half-size acoustic. He restrung the guitar with better strings, shaved a good bit off the bridge plate and did whatever else guitar techs do and returned it to her the next day. My God! It sounded like a completely different instrument and Lena found it so much easier play. Joe is an alchemist - turning musical lead into harmonic gold. Joe says he is frustrated by the general poor quality of student guitars and how they are (or more accurately, are not) set up. Nothing will turn kids off learning music than a poor instrument. Lena said that if anyone had asked her about her acoustic guitar two weeks ago, she would have said it was a decent guitar. Now, she said, she realizes how wrong she would have been.
As if Joe's generosity in tuning up Lena's guitar was not enough, he also brought over his first guitar, which is a full-sized acoustic to lend Lena for her rehearsals and performance. Being bigger, the guitar also had a much bigger sound and Lena found it very playable. So, this is what she walked on stage with.
All this to say, we are very thankful to Joe.
This year, our daughter, Lena, got to take advantage of one of the Bluesfest's youth-oriented good works. Lena has been taking guitar lessons for the past year and a half at the Ottawa Folklore Centre (OFC) with local blues musician and awesome instructor, Jesse Greene (in fact, Lena, Kate and I think she may be the awesomest in the city). A little over a month ago, Jesse informed us that every year for past several years, American blues and folk musician, TJ Wheeler, comes to town for Bluesfest and in the week leading up to the festival's final weekend gathers ten OFC student between the ages of 8 and 18 and provides instruction, teaches them some songs and how to play together as a band. The kids get together with TJ for two hours every day for five days and perform on stage at Bluesfest on the festival's final day. In addition, each participant would get three passes to the festival for the day of their performance. All, incidentally, at no charge. Jesse encouraged Lena to sign up for the program.
Lena is quite a shy and reserved girl, at least when she is among a group of people she doesn't know, and she has been uncomfortable performing even for a small group of family friends. Also, since the program is advertised as an acoustic band, Lena was not entirely enthusiastic because she found her own acoustic guitar a bit difficult to play. Nonetheless, after talking with me and Kate and with gentle encouragement from Jesse, Lena decided to register.
Two months ago, I had never heard of TJ Wheeler. Today, I am one of his biggest fans. He is, simply, great with kids. Part music historian, part philosopher, a healthy bit of a comedian and 100% musician and teacher, TJ kept the mood light but focussed and managed over the course of 10 hours of instruction to turn this rag-tag group of mostly pre-teens of varying ability into an impressive and well-choreographed band, which TJ ended up dubbing the Cacophony Blues Band.
Throughout the week, Lena would go to class, sit quietly in her chair without interacting much with the other kids, and rehearse the songs with her bandmates and TJ. As I say, she is shy and reserved and so didn't volunteer to sing any verses or do any guitar solos but that was fine with us because her just agreeing to do the program was a big step for her. I sat outside the rehearsal room for most of the sessions and had a great time seeing the kids have a great time, listening to TJ's corny jokes and seeing the group come together. TJ taught them three songs: The House of the Rising Sun, Take me to the River, Hey Bo Diddley and together they wrote a fourth song, which I'll call the OFC Bluesfest Blues.
As the day of the performance got closer, Lena began getting nervous about being on stage and playing in front of a crowd. She became quite quiet backstage in the hours leading up to their performance. But, when the time came, she climbed on stage with TJ and the other kids ssought out a spot behind the other kids. She looked a little overwhelmed. But as they got going on their first tune (House of the Rising Sun), she banged away on her guitar and by the end of it, she had a BIG smile on her face. The crowd went wild with every song, every guitar or harmonica solo, every verse sung. The kids were clearly having a great time and the parents in the crowd, Kate and I included, were damn near bursting with pride.
Lena came off the stage PUMPED. She told us that once they started playing that first tune her nervousness disappeared and she absolutely loved the experience. She thought the crowd's applause and cheering was very cool. Where during the course of the week and concert, she was happy to stick to the background and go about her business, she came off the stage saying how if she's lucky enough to do it next year, she'll definitely want to sing (though she's a little uncertain about doing a guitar solo) and take on a bigger role.
I talked with TJ backstage before the concert and was telling him that more than anything the kids may have learned musically during the week, I thought the real value of the experience, which would spill over in all parts of their lives, was the confidence they gained from doing it. He agreed and shared an anecdote of one kid he taught who had some clear problems socializing with others and who emerged as a solid performer and who he saw year after year develop into a more confident individual who made friends more easily and who was courted by a number of bands. TJ also shared that being a musician and performer has had a profound impact on his life and that's why he works so much with kids: "Just passing it on" he said.
Amen and thank you, TJ
***
The whole day the Cacophony Blues Band performed, all the bands that benefitted from the Be in the Band program also performed. They were all awesome. Getting up on stage and performing in front of a crowd, many for the first time, can be intimidating but they all did it with enthusiasm. I really enjoyed seeing these kids giving it their all. The head of the OFC music School, Alan Marsden, was responsible not only for bringing TJ Wheeler into the OFC, but was also the coordinator for the Be in the Band segment of Bluesfest and deserves massive praise. He did a bang-up job.
***
As I said earlier, Lena was a little hesitant about performing with an acoustic guitar because she's got small hands and finds fretting on the acoustic a lot harder than her electric guitar. Kate was talking about this with our good friend, Joe, who is both an accomplished musician and guitar technician. So, he came over and took away Lena's half-size acoustic. He restrung the guitar with better strings, shaved a good bit off the bridge plate and did whatever else guitar techs do and returned it to her the next day. My God! It sounded like a completely different instrument and Lena found it so much easier play. Joe is an alchemist - turning musical lead into harmonic gold. Joe says he is frustrated by the general poor quality of student guitars and how they are (or more accurately, are not) set up. Nothing will turn kids off learning music than a poor instrument. Lena said that if anyone had asked her about her acoustic guitar two weeks ago, she would have said it was a decent guitar. Now, she said, she realizes how wrong she would have been.
As if Joe's generosity in tuning up Lena's guitar was not enough, he also brought over his first guitar, which is a full-sized acoustic to lend Lena for her rehearsals and performance. Being bigger, the guitar also had a much bigger sound and Lena found it very playable. So, this is what she walked on stage with.
All this to say, we are very thankful to Joe.
Sunday, 7 July 2013
Losing Some Weight
Way back in February, I posted about my desire to lose some weight. After Kate's diagnosis, I had packed on about 35 pounds. In the February post, I had lost about 17 lbs. Since then, I have lost another 12, weighing in at 206 lbs this morning. So, 190 is my intermediate target weight, and maybe hopefully at some point after that I can work my way down to 180, which, I think, would be ideal.
I have managed so far to lose this weight largely through exercise. I started a cardio program in April 2012 and have been fairly religious about exercising. My cardiac scare of last year, and the subsequent all-clear I got from my doctors committed me more than ever to maintaining a decent level of fitness. I am probably in better shape (physically, at least) now than I have been in a few years. While I was on the psychiatric medications (the cause of the above mentioned cardiac scare) I was suffering from tachycardia, which is a resting heart rate of over 100 beats per minute. After I came off, I seemed to be stuck at around 76-80 beats per minute for quite a while. Now, I am regularly getting a reading of 58-63 beats per minute. I am much more comfortable with that.
I have also made some progress with my snacking problem, but that is the area I have to work on the most, so we'll see how that goes.
I'll check in again in a few weeks.
I have managed so far to lose this weight largely through exercise. I started a cardio program in April 2012 and have been fairly religious about exercising. My cardiac scare of last year, and the subsequent all-clear I got from my doctors committed me more than ever to maintaining a decent level of fitness. I am probably in better shape (physically, at least) now than I have been in a few years. While I was on the psychiatric medications (the cause of the above mentioned cardiac scare) I was suffering from tachycardia, which is a resting heart rate of over 100 beats per minute. After I came off, I seemed to be stuck at around 76-80 beats per minute for quite a while. Now, I am regularly getting a reading of 58-63 beats per minute. I am much more comfortable with that.
I have also made some progress with my snacking problem, but that is the area I have to work on the most, so we'll see how that goes.
I'll check in again in a few weeks.
Tuesday, 2 July 2013
A Visit to Montreal
A few weeks ago, we decided to celebrate the end of school and the beginning of summer vacation by taking a trip to Montreal to see one of our favourite singers, Holly Cole, perform at the Montreal International Jazz Festival. While we were organizing that trip, I got an e-mail from my cousin, Judy, saying she was cleaning house a bit and had some cool artifacts from my grandfather's stint in the Australian military during World War I and would I be interested in taking over as the family custodian (I'll post on the goodies I got separately)? Indeed, I would and so we included into our plans a trip out to South Durham, a small burgh in Quebec's Eastern Townships. We just got back from our trip yesterday.
Saturday's Holly Cole concert was, as usual, awesome. It took place in the Théatre du Nouveau Monde, a venue I had never been to before. Kate, Lena and I shared a loge with a delightful woman who either spoke no English or chose not to speak English, so she had to listen to me murder her native tongue all evening. My French has never been very good, but I am out of practice, to say the least, and so not very good has deteriorated to pretty fucking awful. In any case, she seemed pleased with the effort.
Two things struck me about our night out. As many of you know, Kate has some significant mobility issues these days and gets around with a cane, or on longer outings, with a walker. Montreal has a great transit system. Except if you're handicapped. I had to haul Kate's walker up and down escalators and stairs. If you are alone with your walker or bound to a wheelchair, I am afraid you are out of luck. You cannot access the Metro (Montreal's subway system, for those who do not know). The other thing that struck is how the masses simply don't care that you're handicapped. They will not move out of your way, let you go first through a door, or in any other way facilitate your passage through a crowded space. Precisely one person, as we were exiting the theatre, made a point of letting Kate in front of him. That among the tens of thousands of people we encountered that night. Chivalry is dead.
The next day we headed to my cousin's house in South Durham, which is about an hour and a half east of Montreal. She lives in the house that her mother, my aunt, used to live in - a place I visited many times as a kid, but haven't been to in probably 20 years or more. It is a beautiful 19th century home sitting on four or five acres. The peacefulness of the place made me hate suburbia even more. We had a great lunch with Judy and her husband, Claude. She passed along the amazing family treasures to me (about which I am still overwhelmed and which deserve their own post). Then I visited with my aunt who turns 89 later this month. She is an amazing person and we were happy to have seen her.
On our way back to Montreal, we stopped in small town called Beloeil, which is south-east of Montreal, for some dinner. We stopped at a restaurant called Rouge Boeuf - a small town eatery with big town pretensions. It was very stylishly decorated, but it still had a paper cover over a linen table cloth and paper napkins. I grew up in the greater Montreal area and at one time was reasonably bilingual, but I have to admit, I was kind of uncomfortable in this restaurant. We were the only English speakers there, including among the staff who were unilingual French. I felt conspicuous. Nonetheless, the food was alright.
The next day, Monday, was our last in the city. My grandfather had died in 1984 at the ripe old age of 92 and through all the intervening years I had thought he was buried in the Eastern Townships, but learned that he was, in fact, buried in Pointe-Claire, a suburb on the West Island. So, we visited the grave, which also contains the remains of my uncle, Lawrence, who died in 1946 when he was only 24 years old, and my grandmother and my grandfather's third wife, Lotty. I was glad to finally get to go to pay my respects, but frustrated that I could have done it years earlier.
After the graveyard, we took a drive along the lakeshore on the West Island and had dinner at an old favourite restaurant in Lachine called Il Fornetto. The food is decent without being spectacular, and the service is friendly if not the most efficient. We dined al fresco and had a great view of the parkland bordering the Lachine Canal and the St. Lawrence River. A nice way to end a nice trip.
And that was our weekend in Montreal.
Saturday's Holly Cole concert was, as usual, awesome. It took place in the Théatre du Nouveau Monde, a venue I had never been to before. Kate, Lena and I shared a loge with a delightful woman who either spoke no English or chose not to speak English, so she had to listen to me murder her native tongue all evening. My French has never been very good, but I am out of practice, to say the least, and so not very good has deteriorated to pretty fucking awful. In any case, she seemed pleased with the effort.
Two things struck me about our night out. As many of you know, Kate has some significant mobility issues these days and gets around with a cane, or on longer outings, with a walker. Montreal has a great transit system. Except if you're handicapped. I had to haul Kate's walker up and down escalators and stairs. If you are alone with your walker or bound to a wheelchair, I am afraid you are out of luck. You cannot access the Metro (Montreal's subway system, for those who do not know). The other thing that struck is how the masses simply don't care that you're handicapped. They will not move out of your way, let you go first through a door, or in any other way facilitate your passage through a crowded space. Precisely one person, as we were exiting the theatre, made a point of letting Kate in front of him. That among the tens of thousands of people we encountered that night. Chivalry is dead.
The next day we headed to my cousin's house in South Durham, which is about an hour and a half east of Montreal. She lives in the house that her mother, my aunt, used to live in - a place I visited many times as a kid, but haven't been to in probably 20 years or more. It is a beautiful 19th century home sitting on four or five acres. The peacefulness of the place made me hate suburbia even more. We had a great lunch with Judy and her husband, Claude. She passed along the amazing family treasures to me (about which I am still overwhelmed and which deserve their own post). Then I visited with my aunt who turns 89 later this month. She is an amazing person and we were happy to have seen her.
On our way back to Montreal, we stopped in small town called Beloeil, which is south-east of Montreal, for some dinner. We stopped at a restaurant called Rouge Boeuf - a small town eatery with big town pretensions. It was very stylishly decorated, but it still had a paper cover over a linen table cloth and paper napkins. I grew up in the greater Montreal area and at one time was reasonably bilingual, but I have to admit, I was kind of uncomfortable in this restaurant. We were the only English speakers there, including among the staff who were unilingual French. I felt conspicuous. Nonetheless, the food was alright.
The next day, Monday, was our last in the city. My grandfather had died in 1984 at the ripe old age of 92 and through all the intervening years I had thought he was buried in the Eastern Townships, but learned that he was, in fact, buried in Pointe-Claire, a suburb on the West Island. So, we visited the grave, which also contains the remains of my uncle, Lawrence, who died in 1946 when he was only 24 years old, and my grandmother and my grandfather's third wife, Lotty. I was glad to finally get to go to pay my respects, but frustrated that I could have done it years earlier.
After the graveyard, we took a drive along the lakeshore on the West Island and had dinner at an old favourite restaurant in Lachine called Il Fornetto. The food is decent without being spectacular, and the service is friendly if not the most efficient. We dined al fresco and had a great view of the parkland bordering the Lachine Canal and the St. Lawrence River. A nice way to end a nice trip.
And that was our weekend in Montreal.
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