In 1985 I was 26 and had pockets full of cash.
I was also working in a very stressful environment...the music business......in the business you would work like a crazed dog until you hit the wall....one day after hitting the wall...the owners would come to your office and suggest...no....insist that you take a holiday........."not now" they would say..."but right fucking now......"
I hit the wall on a Tuesday....by Wednesday I had booked a couple of weeks in a Club Med 4 hours south of Puerto Vallarta ,Mexico.
On Thursday morning I was shopping for clothes and supplies for the looming holiday...
I was driving around looking for clothes....I needed something spiffy...this was after all, the era of Don Johnson and Miami Vice.....and I was going to Club Med....their saucy ads portend a 2 week delight of debauchery, debutantes and delicacies....
I was on 49th avenue....Look.....Its Goldman's menswear....they sound like a great place to shop........I strolled in...willing to be styled in the fashion for the day...
The sales guy greeted me warmly...."How can I help you today..?"
"My good man..." ..."I am off for a well needed vacation....Mexico.....I need something.....well.....to make me feel like I am on holiday....What do you suggest?"
Now...hindsight is always 20/20 and looking back on it I realize the sales guy saw my invisible name tag...it said..."Hi my name is Rube"....
"Have I got the clothes for you......, Polo's, Boat shoes.......and of course ....you will need dress pants.......this way sir...!!"
Sir?...I was in great hands....
He lead me to the back of the store to the pant racks...the special section for styling guys I thought........I was in deed in good hands...
"Sir...these Yellow (Canary) Linen Slacks will be the perfect pant for your holiday....great for dinner...".......
I was starting to daydream.....I could see it now.......I would waltz into the restaurant at Club Med......looking calm, confident and collected.....capable of being the man of "her" Club Med dreams.....
"Sold!" I said..
$300 lighter I walked out of the store...confident in my choice of attire.......dreaming of a sex filled romp on some nameless Mexican beach with some nameless Blonde professional from Connecticut or Georgia....some State where I would never visit and where it would be too inconvenient to keep up a long distance relationship........perfect holiday romance......all attributed to my suave nature and smashing new clothes...
I went home...one day left of work before my much needed break.....
Friday morning came early......preluded by a night of dreams of tropical romance and warm breezes....
"I know"...I said to myself as I got ready for work......."I'll show those jackals at work how much I won't miss them...I will wear my new outfit to work....in this rain soaked climate I will show them what I will be doing for the next 2 weeks....basking in the heat of the sun and sex.....they will be.....Jealous!"....
With that in mind...I got dressed and went to work......
I knew that something was amiss within 15 seconds of entering the office........an unusual hush from a generally manic workplace descended as I entered.....I hear the whispers.....
Casey, my most trusted co-worker, came right out and said....." Graham...what the fuck are you thinking......?" laughter peppering his each syllable......" Nice yellow pants....Hey Lenny....look at The Slab.....Yellow Pants!"....
For that morning.....there would be no mercy........I was a brightly colorful target......I took an early lunch and went home and changed....
Fast forward 3 days.......
I have traveled 4 hours through the sweltering heat of a Mexican jungle on a bus loaded with big-boned girls from the American Midwest.....long before reaching Club Med I knew.....the last thing I should have worn in this place was pants....let alone Canary Yellow ones...!
Arriving in Club Med my last vestiges of a sex romp in the jungle were shattered.......
The Club Med brochure clearly alluded to days of fun in the sun and nights of warm sticky romps..... the days to be one of scuba diving, snorkeling and volleyball...all in a mixer with scantily clad, trim and fit beauties...the nights....a moist mixture of dancing, drinking and dining leading up to a pairing off for non-committed sex..(or even a menage et trois....almost guaranteed said the brochure..after all Club Med is FRENCH!) ....but......
It was not to be.......apparently I had booked my Club Med vacation on the same week as Jenny Craig's convention and the alumnae event of Girls of the 4-H ......even if I had wanted unmitigated sex with or without the aid of my "lust be assured yellow pants" after a few days in this jungle bungle I was quite certain I would not be staying .....it was not at all what I had anticipated....!
I decided I was going to leave Club Med..........get a room in Peurto Vallarta......salvage the rest of the vacation..... ..PV...where I would be away from the teeming throngs of raw-boned maidens from Minnesota who aside from the promise of promiscuity were there (at Club Med) as much for the unlimited buffet and endless shrimp plates...!
But what about the $300 Canary Yellow pants......what could I do to get mileage out of this handsomely tailored but unfortunately colored pair of pastel pants?
I know......take pictures of my adventure.....
So..... I set about on my last day at Club Med to chronicle the adventure.....
I got on the Yellow pants and got out the camera and proceeded to capture the spirit of the place.....
I would don a scuba tank and flippers, all the while wearing my Yellow pants and have a stranger take a picture of me....(but only from the waist down) entering the water.......another of me squatting to return a volleyball....(again clad in yellow pants and only from the waist down)......and so went the day...the yellow pants pictures....in line for the buffet....on a wind surfer....the diving board.....in the disco......anything and everything I could think of...action Jackson goes to Club Med....only from the waist down...always in Yellow Pants..!
As the day came to a close....I was in the pool regaling the girl from Minneapolis about my collection of waist down images.......
I lamented the only thing I did not have was a picture of me in my Yellow pants alongside a naked woman...(of course me wearing the pants and she......au naturel!)
"No Way am I doing that!" she said........ten minutes later we were on her deck....her friend happily clicking away on the camera......her twin cities address in my hands ....a vague promise from me that I would send her copies of the shots.......
I spent the rest of the holiday in relative peace.......only with one oddly punctuated night where I climbed into a Mexican Taxi cab.....drunk and explaining I wanted to go to Senor Frogs..... only to catch the cabbie masturbating to a hand drawn flipbook of a couple having oral sex....... (I knew then, Mexico was truly a 3rd world country...) ........
I returned to the office and presented my Kodak moments....at least I got "some" laughs not at my expense.....
I still have those Yellow pants somewhere.........
Showing posts with label funny. Show all posts
Showing posts with label funny. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 2, 2013
Saturday, March 9, 2013
Putting the fun in dysfunctional....The Chinese Way!
ALL OF THIS IS TRUE!
Ahhhh just putting the fun back in dysfunctional.....
I often wonder ...is it me....? seriously......I am entertained
by the smallest things and find humour in things no one else does.....perhaps
that is what I collect the odd picture...
Here's a couple of things
1) the Belt Buckle
Typical Chinese....I know that sounds racist and
is.....for good sake there is 1.25 BILLION of them and they still haven't a
clue...One of the things I do is make high end custom belt buckles...when
looking for a new vendor I will always vet them to see if they understand the
language or that we can set up a accurate communication....generally their
letters start off with something businesslike, such as " Dear most
excellent belt buckle maker...your name was given to us by a person who know's
of your excellence in buckle rendering and we want to make friends to be in
business with"....Now that we have step one out of the way I always ask
for a sample of their work...the most recent one sent me the following...I shit
you not...they said that this is an example of their best work....
I did not have the heart to explain why this is so
wrong..
The Next thing we did was supply lapel pins and metal craft...The factory I use has some tremendous skills in the field of metal work but their images for their site were very poor...I asked them if they could provide a sell sheet that hi-lited some of their better work. As they do a lot of military hardware , buttons and badges etc...they sent a note say they thought this might work.....They obviously did not know their is a number of Jewish people in this business.
I was also dealing with a company/factory in China who provides soft goods, bags, knapsacks etc. They wrote me and were quite excited about their new line of corporate animal costumes?...They were quite sure these would be a tremendous hit in The US corporate marketplace. I was unsure where they would fit so I asked them to send me a picture of what they had in mind. They sent the following and said it was their best seller in China....I am wondering what kind of Corporate gatherings China has...I especially like the giant nads.....?
The following is all true.......but cannot be topped by the woman I had working for me at my previous company...a lovely woman who shall remain nameless...only her initials will be named (Rosetta Ho)....Rosetta was a typical Asian ...highly loyal, great worker but everything must stay between the lines.....if there was an unusual or odd occurrence at work, on the way to work or home to work...she would be totally flummoxed.....One morning she came into the office and you could see that she was embarrassed....she said about 2 miles from work she heard a big clunk in her front wheel and the car jerked to the left....she did not want to stop to see what had happened (ie hit a child, etc) so she kept driving.....when she got to work she got me to come and look at her car......She had run over a curved pitchfork which had stuck into the tire and had not deflated it....she drove for 2 miles with it just as you see it......(I should have become a lawyer)....
Monday, March 4, 2013
Pulling Mrs. Chesson's arm hair...
Perhaps its the fever I am trying to work through....or the ache in my joints from the fever that has set my mind to wandering.....as I am apt to do...I often look back on moments in my life that I find funny...or embarrassing...or just plain old stupid...but today I am remembering a spring day in 1980.
I was in a band with my best friend and writing partner, Victor. (Victors last name is Zupanc and our first band when we were 15 consisted of Victor, his brother and 2 cousins....all Zupancs...it was called Z...or in Canada, Zed....I was the lone Scotsman...)
The band in 1980 was a local Victoria phenom call "The Tumours".....the motto was..."They'll grow on you..." ......these were far less politically correct times.....but I digress......
Spring 1980...The Tumours needed a place to practice...now any parent who has had their kids rock band play in their basement will tell you how awful it is......how many times can Louie, Louie or Taking Care of Business be slaughtered all the while inviting the ire of every neighbour within 1 block............so it was that The Tumours found themselves homeless........(again) ....however in a flash of brilliance Victor and I had an "aha" moment....Mrs. Chesson...! Mrs. Chesson was the mother of our other friends Richard and Al......she was one of those rare breeds of older ladies.......an easy mark.....(.at the time she was about 60....or so it seemed) and being a proper lady of good breeding she was all Tea and rounded tones......
She also had a odd dark side in that she smoked pot with us.....it was a little freaky at first to have The Queen come in for a toke while we're listening to Black Sabbath ....anyways I digress....... again....
So on that warm spring night, Victor and I decided we should talk kind-hearted, old, Mrs. Chesson into letting us use her basement for the band to practice in.......
Usually I am the one giving the pitch....doing the talk up....making the deal....but this night for whatever reason I took a backseat to Victor in this department......
My job was to shut up........we had been kicked out of a number of basements for noise complaints...."well duh...it IS a rock band after all..... "
The tableau of me, Victor, Mrs. Chesson and her 2 sons (...good friends of mine at the time....) ....Al and Richard is still burned into my mind.......
Imagine a warm June evening.....7 ish.......front stairs to her house.....perhaps 8 or 9 steps.....On the top steps stood her 2 sons Al and Richard.......2 steps below them, on a step to herself, Mrs Chesson.......and 2 steps below her, Victor and myself........on this summers night she was wearing a short sleeved shirt, her thin bird-like hands resting on her bony little old lady-like hips........Victor to my left was giving her the pitch..." Mrs. C...we will be very quiet...we will shut the practice down by 8 o'clock every night....we will not make a mess and to top it all off we will give you 450 each month...."...All of this was a well know lie...a ruse to get into the practice space.......once in...its hard to get rid of a band.........much like raccoons in the attic they can be very testy and assume this is THEIR place.......anyways....I was listening...more or less to Victor give the pitch......I could see she was nodding in the affirmative....she was buying in...bonus...!.....
I am not sure if it was a residual pot hangover or just that I was mildly moronic that made me do what came next.........as I was 2 steps below the step that Mrs. Chesson stood on my head was pretty much eye level to her forearm......as it seemed Victor had the situation well in hand and no one was paying me any attention my mind felt free to wander.........I looked at her forearm......It had long strands of Black hair growing from it.......my inner dialogue spoke up....."hmmm...I said to myself....She has a cat....a Black cat at that....and it appears to me that she has a cat's fur ball on her arm....betcha she doesn't know its there....I know....I will help her out.....I will pull it off and let her discretely know I did so...saving her any embarrassment of having a cats fur ball dangling on her forearm..........with no warning....and no one watching me....I gingerly reached up....grabbed the forelock of Black hair and gave it it a good tug........"
"Ouch" she screamed.....it was fucking attached...! OMG.....what the fuck have I just done.....Her sons....looked at me in abject horror...."Why are you pulling my mothers arm hair" they asked......Victor looked at me in stunned silence......as if to say...."What the fuck are you doing..."........I could only stammer......."I thought it was a fur ball..."........not a great reply...but the only one that was available to me at the moment.........I looked down at my thumb and forefinger....3 lonely black strands of her arm hair still clutched between them........I felt myself turning beet red.......
Mrs. Chesson (who was a direct descendant of Stanley, the famed African bible thumper from the "Dr. Livingstone I presume...." moment in time...." was overly nice about the whole thing....she started to apologize.....(?) "I know dear....its alright...Its my fault I have arm hair....I should really pluck it out...."well this only made things worse....I now had to say....no its my fault...it is your hair after all........after a few awkward moments....and some shuffling of shoes on the stairs as we all tried to find the next sentence to carry us out of this abyss......I spoke up......."So...can we practice in your basement.....?" .....
The answer was "yes".......
I was in a band with my best friend and writing partner, Victor. (Victors last name is Zupanc and our first band when we were 15 consisted of Victor, his brother and 2 cousins....all Zupancs...it was called Z...or in Canada, Zed....I was the lone Scotsman...)
The band in 1980 was a local Victoria phenom call "The Tumours".....the motto was..."They'll grow on you..." ......these were far less politically correct times.....but I digress......
Spring 1980...The Tumours needed a place to practice...now any parent who has had their kids rock band play in their basement will tell you how awful it is......how many times can Louie, Louie or Taking Care of Business be slaughtered all the while inviting the ire of every neighbour within 1 block............so it was that The Tumours found themselves homeless........(again) ....however in a flash of brilliance Victor and I had an "aha" moment....Mrs. Chesson...! Mrs. Chesson was the mother of our other friends Richard and Al......she was one of those rare breeds of older ladies.......an easy mark.....(.at the time she was about 60....or so it seemed) and being a proper lady of good breeding she was all Tea and rounded tones......
She also had a odd dark side in that she smoked pot with us.....it was a little freaky at first to have The Queen come in for a toke while we're listening to Black Sabbath ....anyways I digress....... again....
So on that warm spring night, Victor and I decided we should talk kind-hearted, old, Mrs. Chesson into letting us use her basement for the band to practice in.......
Usually I am the one giving the pitch....doing the talk up....making the deal....but this night for whatever reason I took a backseat to Victor in this department......
My job was to shut up........we had been kicked out of a number of basements for noise complaints...."well duh...it IS a rock band after all..... "
The tableau of me, Victor, Mrs. Chesson and her 2 sons (...good friends of mine at the time....) ....Al and Richard is still burned into my mind.......
Imagine a warm June evening.....7 ish.......front stairs to her house.....perhaps 8 or 9 steps.....On the top steps stood her 2 sons Al and Richard.......2 steps below them, on a step to herself, Mrs Chesson.......and 2 steps below her, Victor and myself........on this summers night she was wearing a short sleeved shirt, her thin bird-like hands resting on her bony little old lady-like hips........Victor to my left was giving her the pitch..." Mrs. C...we will be very quiet...we will shut the practice down by 8 o'clock every night....we will not make a mess and to top it all off we will give you 450 each month...."...All of this was a well know lie...a ruse to get into the practice space.......once in...its hard to get rid of a band.........much like raccoons in the attic they can be very testy and assume this is THEIR place.......anyways....I was listening...more or less to Victor give the pitch......I could see she was nodding in the affirmative....she was buying in...bonus...!.....
I am not sure if it was a residual pot hangover or just that I was mildly moronic that made me do what came next.........as I was 2 steps below the step that Mrs. Chesson stood on my head was pretty much eye level to her forearm......as it seemed Victor had the situation well in hand and no one was paying me any attention my mind felt free to wander.........I looked at her forearm......It had long strands of Black hair growing from it.......my inner dialogue spoke up....."hmmm...I said to myself....She has a cat....a Black cat at that....and it appears to me that she has a cat's fur ball on her arm....betcha she doesn't know its there....I know....I will help her out.....I will pull it off and let her discretely know I did so...saving her any embarrassment of having a cats fur ball dangling on her forearm..........with no warning....and no one watching me....I gingerly reached up....grabbed the forelock of Black hair and gave it it a good tug........"
"Ouch" she screamed.....it was fucking attached...! OMG.....what the fuck have I just done.....Her sons....looked at me in abject horror...."Why are you pulling my mothers arm hair" they asked......Victor looked at me in stunned silence......as if to say...."What the fuck are you doing..."........I could only stammer......."I thought it was a fur ball..."........not a great reply...but the only one that was available to me at the moment.........I looked down at my thumb and forefinger....3 lonely black strands of her arm hair still clutched between them........I felt myself turning beet red.......
Mrs. Chesson (who was a direct descendant of Stanley, the famed African bible thumper from the "Dr. Livingstone I presume...." moment in time...." was overly nice about the whole thing....she started to apologize.....(?) "I know dear....its alright...Its my fault I have arm hair....I should really pluck it out...."well this only made things worse....I now had to say....no its my fault...it is your hair after all........after a few awkward moments....and some shuffling of shoes on the stairs as we all tried to find the next sentence to carry us out of this abyss......I spoke up......."So...can we practice in your basement.....?" .....
The answer was "yes".......
Catholic Annulment, Waterboarding and other forms of torture.
Ok, ok....so some of the Catholics who may read this might be a little miffed..........but hey...its true.....so bite me...
Where does this story come from....
Once upon a time I married to a devout Catholic woman......(At he time she was not so devout.... drinking and partying......ok...maybe not partying....bit of a bore actually......but drinking a lot......come to think of that....she was just being a good Catholic...hmmmm) she is now a Catholic school teacher......we have 2 beautiful children.......redheads...girls.....
However...as life is sometime capable of doing..... a series of curve balls were thrown at the marriage......it broke up and we separated.....
Now..... most of you out there enjoying the bliss of a nasty divorce, generally only get to fight in a court of law.......arguing over important things such as.......who gets custody of the kids, who gets the timeshare in Podunk Idaho and the ownership of the Ron Popeil household appliance collection.......(as a side bar....notice the nifty legal jargon.......what the hell gets into people's heads when divorcing.......they spend about $5000 on lawyers to defend their ownership of a juicer....get over it...its a fucking juicer for Gods sake.....anyways...I digress...)
.......I know, I know, I know....you're probably saying your divorce was a tough row to hoe...... but let me tell you this about that...it is nothing compared to an annulment in the Catholic Church.........
An annulment of a Catholic marriage is a procedure set amid an arcane set of laws and rituals designed to determine if the marriage ever really existed.........the governing rules involved are called Canon Law.....lets be clear here.....this is not a divorce........a divorce is against the Catholic religion........an annulment is a process to deem that the marriage never existed......in fact as far as they are concerned....once you are annulled.........the marriage never took place..... ( I liken this to the Church's stance on pedophilia...but lets not get too far off of topic.......)
So you are asking yourself .........how is it a marriage of 9 years that produced 2 beautiful children ....all of which was performed in a full blown Catholic ceremony .......and in front of 100's of people could have never existed......? ...(As a side note........ I am reminded of Roswell, New Mexico 1947 and the aliens/weather balloon issue........the first thing was "Hurray...we found aliens"...and then ..."nope...sorry.......no aliens we were mistaken...it was a weather balloon....sorry"....how the fuck someone mistakes aliens for a weather balloon or vice versa is another matter altogether......)
back on topic
Some background......
If you are a Catholic you cannot divorce....if you do....you go to hell.......(the other choice of course is to stay in a hellish marriage and then go to Heaven when you die after living an unhappy life........as far as I see this is not much different than an Islamic Extremist suicide bomber....only the Islamic Extremist gets to go to Heaven a whole lot faster and in a less painful way.....not to mention the dozen or so nubile virgins awaiting you.......yummy....but I digress......again )........
If you don't go to hell at the very least you go to Purgatory which by my understanding is akin to waiting at a bus stop for an indeterminatetime......waiting as a number of "Heaven Express" buses go by....
In this analogy.......if you are a Catholic in Purgatory, you go up to the driver of each bus and say..." Hey can I get on board...I want to go to Heaven"....and the the bus driver basically waves you off...saying.."Hey this bus is full, ask the next one..."....all of of this reminds me of BillMurray's role in the movie Ground Hog Day.....it makes me dizzy just thinking about it.....
Anyways......as a Catholic if you are divorced and the marriage is not annulled not only do you wait at the bus stop to Heaven but you cannot go to confession....you do not get to eat the cookie...(aka the body of Christ) or the drink the wine (aka the blood of Christ) ........all of this behaviour sounds suspiciously like an episode of Twilight........
I am not a Catholic....which arguably is part of the problem with all of this.......however....
...this is my experience....
My ex was pissed when we split up.........pissed enough to make my life and hers miserable........for any of you who deal with a hard-boiled Catholic you will recognize this as what I call The "Karl Malden Syndrome"....similar to the Stockholm Syndrome but quite different.....The victim just gets all cranky and irritable........and it never goes away......much like Karl Malden...... (may he Rest in Peace)
Anyhow....early in 1999, 2 years after the separation and about $30,000 later in legal bills .....(see defending juicers etc) ....I came home one day to find an envelope in the mail....expensive envelope I thought....hmmm...and from The Archdiocese...and I'm not even a Catholic......Woohoo.....
I tore open the envelope....As I was in the midst of an already contentious divorce I was getting used to all sorts of official documents and letters from angry divorce lawyers......(they are not really angry...but a pretend-to-be kind of angry....divorce lawyers are akin to 2 combatants hiring proxy bullies to kick the shit out of the other persons bully.........all the while the 2 bullies are quite happy doing just that as they are paid handsomely for their efforts...............at the end of the joust... all the paid bullies go out for drinks and regale each other about their day jousting....... who ever thought this scam up is a fucking genius..!)
The document in may hands was request for an annulment ........I was perplexed......It stated... (pretty much verbatim but with a whole lot more words......)
You (aka Heathen) are being informed that your ex seeks to annul the marriage between yourself and her......as such, do you wish to not oppose the bond of marriage.....? huh...?.
Let me read that again.....The marriage is to be erased as if it had never existed......and do I wish not to oppose the bond of marriage...? What the fuck....what crazy-assed Catholic Lawyer from the 14th century wrote this............?
What the fuck..!....how can a marriage with 2 kids and lots of bills for hairstylists and manicures be made to have never existed......?.....why am I paying these lawyers all of this money and dealing with an angry fur ball of an ex about the freaking juicer when really...she is saying....hey....lets not get divorced.......no....lets just say it never happened...!
The first brief thought was...."Awfully White of her.".....my second thought...."whoa Nelly"...lets read more..........
" The complainant...is seeking to annul the marriage as it is claimed that it never existed....so therefore...do you not wish to oppose it.....
Of course I want to oppose it........why not.....sounds like fun.....
So....I got on my PC and tip tap typed my reply to the Archdiocese.......Nearly verbatim...pretty much........"Of course I wish to oppose this......and further more how can something that exists be made to never have existed.....
I got a rather snarly reply from the Church stating that it was up to them to say if it existed or not and that if I wished to oppose the annulment procedure I would have to engage a Defender of the Bond.......a D of the B is basically the church appointed public defender in all annulment cases...........
The defender is supposedly well versed in Canon Law...... Canon Law is an arcane set of laws based upon the Vatican's belief that their law shouldsupersede Civil Law.......
So..... I replied away...asking the Church to set me up with a Defender of the Bond.......a week or so passed and I got a voice mail from a very nice lady by the name of Beth....Beth was my Defender...she did this as an unpaid part time job for the Church.....she was lovely.... could I call her to discuss the Bond.....
Damn right I would....I got Beth on the phone to go over our strategy......we were going to defend this bond....yeah that was the plan.......we'll show them what exists and doesn't exist......
"So... Beth....on what grounds can a marriage be annulled....?" I asked...... "well" she said..."Its not easy to get an annulment......the process of the marriage needs review must meet some very rigorous requirements...."..."Such as...such as what?" I asked...
"Well...there are only 4 reasons for an annulment to be granted......"
1) You did not create a bond in the eyes of God.......(...Basically God would have to have been asleep on the wedding day and not seen any of the ceremony....but since God is EVERYWHERE and all seeing....that point was surely a no go... )
2) You did not intend to create a bond to God........( So......what does this mean...I went to the marriage counselling sessions with the Priest who married us and who would also annul the marriage...surely he would agree I intended to make a Bond?)
3) Your were incapable of creating a bond...(i.e. insane......curiously this seems like a perfectly good loophole...except....you only had to be sane on your wedding day.......any other day after or before the wedding day you could be a total loon and the bond would stand......as I was not raving or ranting on the wedding day I figured I was pretty sane......btw...who is ever really sane on their wedding day...?.....)
4) You were already in a bond to God.......(...I took this to mean I was already married to a Catholic or other.........or perhaps I was a Bride of Christ (aka Nun) or a Priest etc etc....
"Bonus!"...I said..... I got all 4 right!
I listed off my reply t o Beth about all of the 4 points.....
1) I went to Catholic marriage preparation and knew exactly what I was doing and the gravitas of the commitment......I spoke to God at the ceremony....not sure he replied at the time....but hey....when do you ever really get the answer to your question.....
2)On point 2.... I go to point 1...again......I was willing and did make the commitment....I got up there said my vows....all of which included a message to God....so I figured I was in the clear.... (as well.....there was no notice from God at the wedding or reception party...saying anything to the contrary ....sure signs such as a lightning bolt, burning bush etc so I figured he approved... )
3) Point 3 is always a little subjective....I mean ....there is legally insane ...(Which I was not...).... even Ted Bundy didn't get to be classified as legally insane........so I will go with the idea that I was not insane....
4) I was neither a nun or a Priest.....or married to another.....so on point 4.......I was in the clear...
"So Beth.....this should be a walk in the park....a cake walk.....a slam dunk...a no-brainer.....right?"
"Well...she said...it is not always so clear cut.......huh....? Well we will need to prove that the bond existed so we can defend it........ "
"Ok....but isn't this like being considered Guilty unless you prove yourself innocent....and then go ahead after that and get a statement saying that you are innocent...?"
Silence on the other end of the phone.....
"Hmmmm.......say Beth, How many of these have you done........?"....she answered....".Oh..at least 300...or so..."
Wow! I thought....I had a cracker jack defender of the Bond on my hands I asked..."So...How many bonds have you successfully defended...?"
."umm....Well that's hard to say" ...she says.........
"Ok Beth...how about this... how many have you won...?"
" Well...we don't look at it that way... "
"Ok....so you have done 300 of these....... how many of them were annulled.....found to have never existed...?"
"298" she proudly said............."What the fuck!...You've never won a case.......!!!"
"Well...that's not really how we see it.....?
"Well Beth...I do..!..... I want to talk to the archdiocese to get a more successful defender of the Bond...."
"Ok she said....but I am the most successful one...!".... (need I go over the math again...?)
Next day I phoned the Archdiocese........."Who do I speak with about my annulment...who's in charge here..?"
"I'll put you through to Monsignor Gallo....'
OMG....Monsignor Gallo is the priest who married us.........who was the ex's main family friend in the Church and was the ex's parish boss...(....did I say she is a Catholic school teacher..)....it was the nutty barely intelligible spanish speaking Mexican priest.....
" Jyess...Fadder Gallo heer..." (....just to digress for a moment....I remember when I was getting married he paused in the middle of the cermonyand said..."hee who beelefs this marrryage...marriaje...marrrage...should not be.".......it was commonly believe that he practiced his Berlitz lesson during the vows and mass.....)
" Father Gallo.........John Graham here..."
"Jyess...."
"Father...I am in the process of a marriage annulment and I feel that the defender of the bond that was appointed is not really capable ofrepresenting my interests and sucessfully defending the bond......."
"Jess.....Butd, Beth.. sheee iza de best defendu wee havve...."
"Yes I know...I've heard that......but surely you must have someone who has actually won a case that can be the defender.....? "
"Weel...wee dun't egzactlee look at it thees way....."
"So I have been told..........all of this makes no sense........".....
"Jyess...I know....ofteen God works in meesterious wayz..."
Mysterious ways.......what the hell does THAT mean.....? Father....I am being tried in a jurisdiction where you are the priest who married us and is also my ex's boss and a close family friend.....the ex's Mom is the head of the Catholic Women's League...her father is a failed priest......and I have a Defender who has never won a case......don't you see this as having the cards stacked against me just a bit...?"
"Zere is no need to swear...?...."
That's it....no need to swear.....well fuck that!
"Father.....I am disturbed by all of this...I wan't to change the jurisdiction of the annulment to another Archdiocese.....!"
"Jyess....weell....I weell send yu sum informayshun.....Guubye.."
I waited a week or so........
The mail came.......nice envelope...pricey stationary...cool...my change of venue form........bonus!
Well...apparently not so fast Kemosabe...... !
I opened the envelope......enclosed a photocopied passage from what looked like the Dead Sea Scrolls......it was a 15 page section of Canon Law addressing the issue about a change of jurisdiction.....
It read much like this......" A change of jurisdiction in an annulment case can be granted but only before the action has started..........Once an action has started no change of jurisdiction can be granted....???
Let me digest this.......so.......If I have no annulment going on....I can get a change of jurisdiction.....yup.......but if an action has started......(ie someone applies for an annulment..) .....I can't change the jurisdiction.....? But...if an action is started and it seems unfair I cannot change the jurisdiction to somewhere more fair....? Is that what I see....
The letter basically went on to say......."What you have just read is as you see it to be....it's just that we don't see it that way...." Sucka...!
Hmmmm...
This calls for another letter.........In my sweet and delightful way I wrote Monsignor Gallo back.......I argued the illogic of his and the Churches ways and how they should reconsider a couple of milenium of history and change to see things my way.....I closed off the leeter with a fond farewell....something like...." There are 2 things my mother taught me that I carry to this day.....never join a club that wants you as a member and to never...ever trust a man who wears a dress....annul away!"
There that says it all......off and into the post it goes........
The very next day...........
The very next day..... I went to my usual morning haunt for a strong black coffee and a muffin.....as I sat with my joe...I spied the Province Newsppaer......it was folded in half and laying on the table...the bottom half of the front page face up...
Wow ...I thought....the picture looks like the church I was married in....the one where Father Gallo resides.....what's it doing on the front page of the Province....must be vandals or something....Iunfolded the paer to view the whole front page.....
Big freaking bold letters......."THOU SHALL NOT STEAL"...below the giant caption a picture of Monsignor Gallo in front of the church and the words....."Thieving Priest Collared Shoplifting...story page 3"
I fell off my chair......I have never been so gobsmacked as I was then.......I sat in stunned silence....I started to giggle like an idiot.....
I turned the paper to page 3.......another candid pic of Gallo.......
"Prominent Catholic priest is arrested shoplifting razor blades from ParkGate Safeways.....Archdiocese silent on the matter......"
I have never........ever.....been so stunned........There was a God....and he had a huge sense of humour.......I read and reread it again......I grabbed the rival Vancouver Sun newspaper...there he was again on the front page........oh my........
For a few moments I sat and pondered the wonder of it all....."Did they actually cuff the 72 year old priest and take him back to the station house.....did they pat him down.....did he like it?......." Oh Jyess....yu are suuch a guud frisker....".....they don't arrest priests at the best of times and certainly don't plop them on the front page just because he inadvertently put a few razors in his cassock........No..it can't be....he's a Klepto...!
I lest the cafe and floated to my car.....I had no idea how to react.......do I write him and commiserate....saying...."I know how it feels..."...perhaps just a short note......"Hope you're feeling better" and include a Monopoly game "Get Out of Jail for Free " card.......
Nope....I would play this one silent........
And silent it became........for nearly 2 years....
The one day....I got another letter.......the ex has now filed her witness statements in the case to annul the marriage........
What did this mean....I phoned my very own Vatican Perry Mason......
"Beth...John Graham here....long time no talk....."
"Yes....How may I help...."
"I have this letter about witnesses and such and want to know what this is all about...?"
"well...if you feel the marriage was not made into a Bond or you want to defend the Bond you need to get witnesses who were at your wedding and get them to go on record to say that you did or did not make a bond....pretty simple really..."
"Huh...you want me to call up people from 12 years ago and get them to come down to the Archdiocese and go in front of a tribunal to go on record to say that I made a bond with God 12 years ago....? really......why....?"
" Because ...that's how we see it...!" click.....
hmmmm... I thought....do I really need this grief....hadn't I already made my point....albeit one that was seemingly ignored.......perhaps I should get on with my life.....
I phoned Beth back...." Beth...I just want this to go away...what do I need to do..."
"A little late for that isn't it...?....." apparently they were stille sore about all of the letters about priests wearing dresses, arrests, publicity and stuff..........
"Well...if you want this to go away.........you need to come to the Archdiocese and read the ex's witnesses testimony and sign off..."
"Ok....I'll be down tomorrow.... "
That next morning I showed up at the Archdiocese........went to the appropriate room and signed in........I was told I had to sign a non-disclosure agreement about the proceedings and in no way could I take any files with me or have copies.....
They sat me in a small windowless room and handed me the transcript.....
" In the case of Graham vs. Graham re : Annulment...."
I read the overview.....and then there was the list of witnesses for the ex......
Her mother, her father, her sister, my ex brother in law and.......my eldest sister Shannon....
What the fuck.........my sister....!...I was shaken.....
I read the testimonies as I had to sign off on each acknowledging that I had read it......each was a fairly decent attempt at character assasination......
And then I got to Shannon's testimony....why was she testifying for the ex.....? What purpose did this serve.......I read the testimony in disbelief..........my tears fell onto the pages.....
I signed off on the last testimony....and then left the building......my first thought was to phone my parents........Dad answered the phone.....
"Dad I just left the Archdiocese to sign off on the annulment....and I found that Shannon has testified against me...."
"I knew she shouldn't have done that..."...."huh".. I blurted......"You knew.....you fucking knew and didn't tell me....!"
"Well son... I am sure she just thought it would speed things along...you know....help make the annulment happen..."..."Dad" I said...."we're not Catholic....!"
All of this ground the annulment to yet another standstill.....apparently my sister upon catching wind that her testimony had been revealed to me ....now threatened to sue the Church for misrepresentation........(Now there's a stretch... )
About a year passed......I went Tuesdays and Fridays to pick up my girls at the school....this was the school where the ex taught and where Gallo led the parish.......I made a point of not shrinking away from the school.....I liked the idea I made them feel uncomfortable....
One Tuesday, Monsignor Gallo approached me to talk......"Jyess...John....haav yu gotten the inveetatshun for da privat lunch with the Arch Beeshop...?'...
I nearly choked..."The what?"
"Jyess...it ees unfurtunit that Katty has been so...well...meezguided in all of thees....it seems the Arch Bishop wants to talk weeth yu..."
This whole saga had taken yet another unforseen turn......
Sure as shit sticks to a shingle...the next day I found a letter in my mailbox......from the Archdiocese...
It read....You are invited to attend a private luncheon with Arch Bishop Adam Exner on Wednesday Nov 6th......please call my undersecretary to confirm........
There it was.......a freaking invite for a private luncheon with the head Honcho...God's very own spokesperson.....this was the same man who 2 years earlier met with Bill Clinton at the G-7........
On the appointed day I dressed in my Wednesday best and went to the lunch.......
The week before I had asked my ex why she thought I was going to a private lunch with the boss......her reply..."he probably wants to tell you what an asshole you are...."....hmmmmm........I thought he might have other things on his mind......
I was ushered into the inner room....and introduced to the Arch Bishop......we exchanged small talk for 5 minutes or so.....then he said..."So......it is a shame about all of this mess......do you think you could ever see your way to withdrawing your opposition to the annulment..."
"Well...I'd like to but I have already shown my opposition....."
"yes"...he pondered...."true...very true..."
More smalll talk ensued and still more tries to find a way to get me to withdraw my opposition.......I sensed that if I did say my opposition was withdrawn that I would get a doggy bag with some of the sandwiches and the bums rush out of the Archdiocese......
With 5 minutes left in the scheduled 1 hour lunch meeting....I looked at the Arch Bishop........"You already have my withdrawl"...I said.........time stood still...."What do you mean?"...he replied....
"I mean I have already withdrawn my opposition....if you look on the letter from 3 years ago entitled Men who Wear Dresses you will see in the last paragraph right after I say....I will never trust men who wear dresses.....that I go on to say...therefore I withdraw my opposition.....Annul away.."
"Well...look at the time"....he says...."I have a meeting with the steering committe on something or other....my undersecretary will show you out....."
A month later I received a letter from The Catholic Church in Ottawa...and within a month after that...a letter from The Vatican.........my marriage was now considered null......and oh.... by the way....it also stated.....you are not allowed to marry another Catholic in a Church ceremony unless you repent......
As I said before.......why would I want to join a club that would have me as a member........
Where does this story come from....
Once upon a time I married to a devout Catholic woman......(At he time she was not so devout.... drinking and partying......ok...maybe not partying....bit of a bore actually......but drinking a lot......come to think of that....she was just being a good Catholic...hmmmm) she is now a Catholic school teacher......we have 2 beautiful children.......redheads...girls.....
However...as life is sometime capable of doing..... a series of curve balls were thrown at the marriage......it broke up and we separated.....
Now..... most of you out there enjoying the bliss of a nasty divorce, generally only get to fight in a court of law.......arguing over important things such as.......who gets custody of the kids, who gets the timeshare in Podunk Idaho and the ownership of the Ron Popeil household appliance collection.......(as a side bar....notice the nifty legal jargon.......what the hell gets into people's heads when divorcing.......they spend about $5000 on lawyers to defend their ownership of a juicer....get over it...its a fucking juicer for Gods sake.....anyways...I digress...)
.......I know, I know, I know....you're probably saying your divorce was a tough row to hoe...... but let me tell you this about that...it is nothing compared to an annulment in the Catholic Church.........
An annulment of a Catholic marriage is a procedure set amid an arcane set of laws and rituals designed to determine if the marriage ever really existed.........the governing rules involved are called Canon Law.....lets be clear here.....this is not a divorce........a divorce is against the Catholic religion........an annulment is a process to deem that the marriage never existed......in fact as far as they are concerned....once you are annulled.........the marriage never took place..... ( I liken this to the Church's stance on pedophilia...but lets not get too far off of topic.......)
So you are asking yourself .........how is it a marriage of 9 years that produced 2 beautiful children ....all of which was performed in a full blown Catholic ceremony .......and in front of 100's of people could have never existed......? ...(As a side note........ I am reminded of Roswell, New Mexico 1947 and the aliens/weather balloon issue........the first thing was "Hurray...we found aliens"...and then ..."nope...sorry.......no aliens we were mistaken...it was a weather balloon....sorry"....how the fuck someone mistakes aliens for a weather balloon or vice versa is another matter altogether......)
back on topic
Some background......
If you are a Catholic you cannot divorce....if you do....you go to hell.......(the other choice of course is to stay in a hellish marriage and then go to Heaven when you die after living an unhappy life........as far as I see this is not much different than an Islamic Extremist suicide bomber....only the Islamic Extremist gets to go to Heaven a whole lot faster and in a less painful way.....not to mention the dozen or so nubile virgins awaiting you.......yummy....but I digress......again )........
If you don't go to hell at the very least you go to Purgatory which by my understanding is akin to waiting at a bus stop for an indeterminatetime......waiting as a number of "Heaven Express" buses go by....
In this analogy.......if you are a Catholic in Purgatory, you go up to the driver of each bus and say..." Hey can I get on board...I want to go to Heaven"....and the the bus driver basically waves you off...saying.."Hey this bus is full, ask the next one..."....all of of this reminds me of BillMurray's role in the movie Ground Hog Day.....it makes me dizzy just thinking about it.....
Anyways......as a Catholic if you are divorced and the marriage is not annulled not only do you wait at the bus stop to Heaven but you cannot go to confession....you do not get to eat the cookie...(aka the body of Christ) or the drink the wine (aka the blood of Christ) ........all of this behaviour sounds suspiciously like an episode of Twilight........
I am not a Catholic....which arguably is part of the problem with all of this.......however....
...this is my experience....
My ex was pissed when we split up.........pissed enough to make my life and hers miserable........for any of you who deal with a hard-boiled Catholic you will recognize this as what I call The "Karl Malden Syndrome"....similar to the Stockholm Syndrome but quite different.....The victim just gets all cranky and irritable........and it never goes away......much like Karl Malden...... (may he Rest in Peace)
Anyhow....early in 1999, 2 years after the separation and about $30,000 later in legal bills .....(see defending juicers etc) ....I came home one day to find an envelope in the mail....expensive envelope I thought....hmmm...and from The Archdiocese...and I'm not even a Catholic......Woohoo.....
I tore open the envelope....As I was in the midst of an already contentious divorce I was getting used to all sorts of official documents and letters from angry divorce lawyers......(they are not really angry...but a pretend-to-be kind of angry....divorce lawyers are akin to 2 combatants hiring proxy bullies to kick the shit out of the other persons bully.........all the while the 2 bullies are quite happy doing just that as they are paid handsomely for their efforts...............at the end of the joust... all the paid bullies go out for drinks and regale each other about their day jousting....... who ever thought this scam up is a fucking genius..!)
The document in may hands was request for an annulment ........I was perplexed......It stated... (pretty much verbatim but with a whole lot more words......)
You (aka Heathen) are being informed that your ex seeks to annul the marriage between yourself and her......as such, do you wish to not oppose the bond of marriage.....? huh...?.
Let me read that again.....The marriage is to be erased as if it had never existed......and do I wish not to oppose the bond of marriage...? What the fuck....what crazy-assed Catholic Lawyer from the 14th century wrote this............?
What the fuck..!....how can a marriage with 2 kids and lots of bills for hairstylists and manicures be made to have never existed......?.....why am I paying these lawyers all of this money and dealing with an angry fur ball of an ex about the freaking juicer when really...she is saying....hey....lets not get divorced.......no....lets just say it never happened...!
The first brief thought was...."Awfully White of her.".....my second thought...."whoa Nelly"...lets read more..........
" The complainant...is seeking to annul the marriage as it is claimed that it never existed....so therefore...do you not wish to oppose it.....
Of course I want to oppose it........why not.....sounds like fun.....
So....I got on my PC and tip tap typed my reply to the Archdiocese.......Nearly verbatim...pretty much........"Of course I wish to oppose this......and further more how can something that exists be made to never have existed.....
I got a rather snarly reply from the Church stating that it was up to them to say if it existed or not and that if I wished to oppose the annulment procedure I would have to engage a Defender of the Bond.......a D of the B is basically the church appointed public defender in all annulment cases...........
The defender is supposedly well versed in Canon Law...... Canon Law is an arcane set of laws based upon the Vatican's belief that their law shouldsupersede Civil Law.......
So..... I replied away...asking the Church to set me up with a Defender of the Bond.......a week or so passed and I got a voice mail from a very nice lady by the name of Beth....Beth was my Defender...she did this as an unpaid part time job for the Church.....she was lovely.... could I call her to discuss the Bond.....
Damn right I would....I got Beth on the phone to go over our strategy......we were going to defend this bond....yeah that was the plan.......we'll show them what exists and doesn't exist......
"So... Beth....on what grounds can a marriage be annulled....?" I asked...... "well" she said..."Its not easy to get an annulment......the process of the marriage needs review must meet some very rigorous requirements...."..."Such as...such as what?" I asked...
"Well...there are only 4 reasons for an annulment to be granted......"
1) You did not create a bond in the eyes of God.......(...Basically God would have to have been asleep on the wedding day and not seen any of the ceremony....but since God is EVERYWHERE and all seeing....that point was surely a no go... )
2) You did not intend to create a bond to God........( So......what does this mean...I went to the marriage counselling sessions with the Priest who married us and who would also annul the marriage...surely he would agree I intended to make a Bond?)
3) Your were incapable of creating a bond...(i.e. insane......curiously this seems like a perfectly good loophole...except....you only had to be sane on your wedding day.......any other day after or before the wedding day you could be a total loon and the bond would stand......as I was not raving or ranting on the wedding day I figured I was pretty sane......btw...who is ever really sane on their wedding day...?.....)
4) You were already in a bond to God.......(...I took this to mean I was already married to a Catholic or other.........or perhaps I was a Bride of Christ (aka Nun) or a Priest etc etc....
"Bonus!"...I said..... I got all 4 right!
I listed off my reply t o Beth about all of the 4 points.....
1) I went to Catholic marriage preparation and knew exactly what I was doing and the gravitas of the commitment......I spoke to God at the ceremony....not sure he replied at the time....but hey....when do you ever really get the answer to your question.....
2)On point 2.... I go to point 1...again......I was willing and did make the commitment....I got up there said my vows....all of which included a message to God....so I figured I was in the clear.... (as well.....there was no notice from God at the wedding or reception party...saying anything to the contrary ....sure signs such as a lightning bolt, burning bush etc so I figured he approved... )
3) Point 3 is always a little subjective....I mean ....there is legally insane ...(Which I was not...).... even Ted Bundy didn't get to be classified as legally insane........so I will go with the idea that I was not insane....
4) I was neither a nun or a Priest.....or married to another.....so on point 4.......I was in the clear...
"So Beth.....this should be a walk in the park....a cake walk.....a slam dunk...a no-brainer.....right?"
"Well...she said...it is not always so clear cut.......huh....? Well we will need to prove that the bond existed so we can defend it........ "
"Ok....but isn't this like being considered Guilty unless you prove yourself innocent....and then go ahead after that and get a statement saying that you are innocent...?"
Silence on the other end of the phone.....
"Hmmmm.......say Beth, How many of these have you done........?"....she answered....".Oh..at least 300...or so..."
Wow! I thought....I had a cracker jack defender of the Bond on my hands I asked..."So...How many bonds have you successfully defended...?"
."umm....Well that's hard to say" ...she says.........
"Ok Beth...how about this... how many have you won...?"
" Well...we don't look at it that way... "
"Ok....so you have done 300 of these....... how many of them were annulled.....found to have never existed...?"
"298" she proudly said............."What the fuck!...You've never won a case.......!!!"
"Well...that's not really how we see it.....?
"Well Beth...I do..!..... I want to talk to the archdiocese to get a more successful defender of the Bond...."
"Ok she said....but I am the most successful one...!".... (need I go over the math again...?)
Next day I phoned the Archdiocese........."Who do I speak with about my annulment...who's in charge here..?"
"I'll put you through to Monsignor Gallo....'
OMG....Monsignor Gallo is the priest who married us.........who was the ex's main family friend in the Church and was the ex's parish boss...(....did I say she is a Catholic school teacher..)....it was the nutty barely intelligible spanish speaking Mexican priest.....
" Jyess...Fadder Gallo heer..." (....just to digress for a moment....I remember when I was getting married he paused in the middle of the cermonyand said..."hee who beelefs this marrryage...marriaje...marrrage...should not be.".......it was commonly believe that he practiced his Berlitz lesson during the vows and mass.....)
" Father Gallo.........John Graham here..."
"Jyess...."
"Father...I am in the process of a marriage annulment and I feel that the defender of the bond that was appointed is not really capable ofrepresenting my interests and sucessfully defending the bond......."
"Jess.....Butd, Beth.. sheee iza de best defendu wee havve...."
"Yes I know...I've heard that......but surely you must have someone who has actually won a case that can be the defender.....? "
"Weel...wee dun't egzactlee look at it thees way....."
"So I have been told..........all of this makes no sense........".....
"Jyess...I know....ofteen God works in meesterious wayz..."
Mysterious ways.......what the hell does THAT mean.....? Father....I am being tried in a jurisdiction where you are the priest who married us and is also my ex's boss and a close family friend.....the ex's Mom is the head of the Catholic Women's League...her father is a failed priest......and I have a Defender who has never won a case......don't you see this as having the cards stacked against me just a bit...?"
"Zere is no need to swear...?...."
That's it....no need to swear.....well fuck that!
"Father.....I am disturbed by all of this...I wan't to change the jurisdiction of the annulment to another Archdiocese.....!"
"Jyess....weell....I weell send yu sum informayshun.....Guubye.."
I waited a week or so........
The mail came.......nice envelope...pricey stationary...cool...my change of venue form........bonus!
Well...apparently not so fast Kemosabe...... !
I opened the envelope......enclosed a photocopied passage from what looked like the Dead Sea Scrolls......it was a 15 page section of Canon Law addressing the issue about a change of jurisdiction.....
It read much like this......" A change of jurisdiction in an annulment case can be granted but only before the action has started..........Once an action has started no change of jurisdiction can be granted....???
Let me digest this.......so.......If I have no annulment going on....I can get a change of jurisdiction.....yup.......but if an action has started......(ie someone applies for an annulment..) .....I can't change the jurisdiction.....? But...if an action is started and it seems unfair I cannot change the jurisdiction to somewhere more fair....? Is that what I see....
The letter basically went on to say......."What you have just read is as you see it to be....it's just that we don't see it that way...." Sucka...!
Hmmmm...
This calls for another letter.........In my sweet and delightful way I wrote Monsignor Gallo back.......I argued the illogic of his and the Churches ways and how they should reconsider a couple of milenium of history and change to see things my way.....I closed off the leeter with a fond farewell....something like...." There are 2 things my mother taught me that I carry to this day.....never join a club that wants you as a member and to never...ever trust a man who wears a dress....annul away!"
There that says it all......off and into the post it goes........
The very next day...........
The very next day..... I went to my usual morning haunt for a strong black coffee and a muffin.....as I sat with my joe...I spied the Province Newsppaer......it was folded in half and laying on the table...the bottom half of the front page face up...
Wow ...I thought....the picture looks like the church I was married in....the one where Father Gallo resides.....what's it doing on the front page of the Province....must be vandals or something....Iunfolded the paer to view the whole front page.....
Big freaking bold letters......."THOU SHALL NOT STEAL"...below the giant caption a picture of Monsignor Gallo in front of the church and the words....."Thieving Priest Collared Shoplifting...story page 3"
I fell off my chair......I have never been so gobsmacked as I was then.......I sat in stunned silence....I started to giggle like an idiot.....
I turned the paper to page 3.......another candid pic of Gallo.......
"Prominent Catholic priest is arrested shoplifting razor blades from ParkGate Safeways.....Archdiocese silent on the matter......"
I have never........ever.....been so stunned........There was a God....and he had a huge sense of humour.......I read and reread it again......I grabbed the rival Vancouver Sun newspaper...there he was again on the front page........oh my........
For a few moments I sat and pondered the wonder of it all....."Did they actually cuff the 72 year old priest and take him back to the station house.....did they pat him down.....did he like it?......." Oh Jyess....yu are suuch a guud frisker....".....they don't arrest priests at the best of times and certainly don't plop them on the front page just because he inadvertently put a few razors in his cassock........No..it can't be....he's a Klepto...!
I lest the cafe and floated to my car.....I had no idea how to react.......do I write him and commiserate....saying...."I know how it feels..."...perhaps just a short note......"Hope you're feeling better" and include a Monopoly game "Get Out of Jail for Free " card.......
Nope....I would play this one silent........
And silent it became........for nearly 2 years....
The one day....I got another letter.......the ex has now filed her witness statements in the case to annul the marriage........
What did this mean....I phoned my very own Vatican Perry Mason......
"Beth...John Graham here....long time no talk....."
"Yes....How may I help...."
"I have this letter about witnesses and such and want to know what this is all about...?"
"well...if you feel the marriage was not made into a Bond or you want to defend the Bond you need to get witnesses who were at your wedding and get them to go on record to say that you did or did not make a bond....pretty simple really..."
"Huh...you want me to call up people from 12 years ago and get them to come down to the Archdiocese and go in front of a tribunal to go on record to say that I made a bond with God 12 years ago....? really......why....?"
" Because ...that's how we see it...!" click.....
hmmmm... I thought....do I really need this grief....hadn't I already made my point....albeit one that was seemingly ignored.......perhaps I should get on with my life.....
I phoned Beth back...." Beth...I just want this to go away...what do I need to do..."
"A little late for that isn't it...?....." apparently they were stille sore about all of the letters about priests wearing dresses, arrests, publicity and stuff..........
"Well...if you want this to go away.........you need to come to the Archdiocese and read the ex's witnesses testimony and sign off..."
"Ok....I'll be down tomorrow.... "
That next morning I showed up at the Archdiocese........went to the appropriate room and signed in........I was told I had to sign a non-disclosure agreement about the proceedings and in no way could I take any files with me or have copies.....
They sat me in a small windowless room and handed me the transcript.....
" In the case of Graham vs. Graham re : Annulment...."
I read the overview.....and then there was the list of witnesses for the ex......
Her mother, her father, her sister, my ex brother in law and.......my eldest sister Shannon....
What the fuck.........my sister....!...I was shaken.....
I read the testimonies as I had to sign off on each acknowledging that I had read it......each was a fairly decent attempt at character assasination......
And then I got to Shannon's testimony....why was she testifying for the ex.....? What purpose did this serve.......I read the testimony in disbelief..........my tears fell onto the pages.....
I signed off on the last testimony....and then left the building......my first thought was to phone my parents........Dad answered the phone.....
"Dad I just left the Archdiocese to sign off on the annulment....and I found that Shannon has testified against me...."
"I knew she shouldn't have done that..."...."huh".. I blurted......"You knew.....you fucking knew and didn't tell me....!"
"Well son... I am sure she just thought it would speed things along...you know....help make the annulment happen..."..."Dad" I said...."we're not Catholic....!"
All of this ground the annulment to yet another standstill.....apparently my sister upon catching wind that her testimony had been revealed to me ....now threatened to sue the Church for misrepresentation........(Now there's a stretch... )
About a year passed......I went Tuesdays and Fridays to pick up my girls at the school....this was the school where the ex taught and where Gallo led the parish.......I made a point of not shrinking away from the school.....I liked the idea I made them feel uncomfortable....
One Tuesday, Monsignor Gallo approached me to talk......"Jyess...John....haav yu gotten the inveetatshun for da privat lunch with the Arch Beeshop...?'...
I nearly choked..."The what?"
"Jyess...it ees unfurtunit that Katty has been so...well...meezguided in all of thees....it seems the Arch Bishop wants to talk weeth yu..."
This whole saga had taken yet another unforseen turn......
Sure as shit sticks to a shingle...the next day I found a letter in my mailbox......from the Archdiocese...
It read....You are invited to attend a private luncheon with Arch Bishop Adam Exner on Wednesday Nov 6th......please call my undersecretary to confirm........
There it was.......a freaking invite for a private luncheon with the head Honcho...God's very own spokesperson.....this was the same man who 2 years earlier met with Bill Clinton at the G-7........
On the appointed day I dressed in my Wednesday best and went to the lunch.......
The week before I had asked my ex why she thought I was going to a private lunch with the boss......her reply..."he probably wants to tell you what an asshole you are...."....hmmmmm........I thought he might have other things on his mind......
I was ushered into the inner room....and introduced to the Arch Bishop......we exchanged small talk for 5 minutes or so.....then he said..."So......it is a shame about all of this mess......do you think you could ever see your way to withdrawing your opposition to the annulment..."
"Well...I'd like to but I have already shown my opposition....."
"yes"...he pondered...."true...very true..."
More smalll talk ensued and still more tries to find a way to get me to withdraw my opposition.......I sensed that if I did say my opposition was withdrawn that I would get a doggy bag with some of the sandwiches and the bums rush out of the Archdiocese......
With 5 minutes left in the scheduled 1 hour lunch meeting....I looked at the Arch Bishop........"You already have my withdrawl"...I said.........time stood still...."What do you mean?"...he replied....
"I mean I have already withdrawn my opposition....if you look on the letter from 3 years ago entitled Men who Wear Dresses you will see in the last paragraph right after I say....I will never trust men who wear dresses.....that I go on to say...therefore I withdraw my opposition.....Annul away.."
"Well...look at the time"....he says...."I have a meeting with the steering committe on something or other....my undersecretary will show you out....."
A month later I received a letter from The Catholic Church in Ottawa...and within a month after that...a letter from The Vatican.........my marriage was now considered null......and oh.... by the way....it also stated.....you are not allowed to marry another Catholic in a Church ceremony unless you repent......
As I said before.......why would I want to join a club that would have me as a member........
The Canadian Customs & Border Patrol Hates me...
Ok....so I have no great love for authority.....and at times I have been known to flaunt that dislike a little too openly....
Around 1991 I worked as the manager for an extreme sports filmmaker Greg Stump. At the time we were doing a ski film, Dr. Strangeglove...(of course we were..) .....we had a number of corporate sponsors who gave us money or products or both....one of the sponsors was K2 skis which were then out of Bainbridge Island just off of Seattle Washington.....We were given 20 skis and snowboards by K2 as part of our deal....
I needed to get them back to Whistler for an event and filming so I asked my 20 year old Brother in law Danny if he wanted a free snowboard..."Sure Dude.." hey said..."the only catch...you need to drive down to K2 and pick up the stuff and bring it back"..."Sure Dude"...he said....
So off he went, picked up the skis and snowboards and came back to Canada...this took all day and about 7 o'clock in the evening I had still not heard from him.....I was getting concerned....
The phone rang...."Hey Dude...I am stuck at the border and can't get out...."The Man" is being a Dick...."
Ok...I thought...I can fix this......I am on the "MAN's" wavelength..."I'll be right down Danny..." "Ok Dude...but hurry, they are pissing me off..."...Not a good thing to piss off guys with guns I thought...
Down I went...arriving at the border I found Danny to be in the commercial impound compound..."hey Danny...I told you to go through the regular lanes and tell them you were a pro skier and these were yours"...."I did Dude...but them didn't believe me...then The MAN sent me here and I'm locked in an impound lot.......Dude..."
I'll fix this....off to the counter to speak with and straighten out this border guard.......(What was I Thinking....?)
"So...I see you have my Brother in law in the impound compound...what seems to be the problem...?"
An indecipherable grunt from the 6'3" creature with the Glock sidearm who stood on the other side of the counter......."He does not have the appropriate paperwork"...
"Well...these are for personal use.." I state...
"Don't care...he still needs the paperwork..." cites The MAN
Ok..I say to myself...how hard can this be to figure out....."Alright...what info do you need...?" I inquire of the Taser Toting cretin....
" He needs to fill out a T5-72-B and include the duty rate from table 14 section 7c.....it is all in the books over there..."
He might as well have been speaking Albanian......I had no idea what he said...but I do know the information he wanted was in the Manhattantelephone directory sized books sitting across the room from me....
I can do this I said to myself.......Simple.....Who the fuck was I kidding...I am the least linear human being to ever walk the face of the earth...I embrace (and often create) chaos.....I can figure out how to make a toaster from a roll of Saran Wrap and a solar panel but fill out a form.....what was I thinking.... ?
So I filled out the form once....back to the counter...."No" he said....."No!..." No to what...? I said..
"You forgot the tariff section... "
Ok...back to the book....tariffs, tariffs...must be in here...oh...ok...tarriffs...it says...."any product made in the USA that is not made in any other country but has more than 34% of materials made in the following countries, Burma, Ceylon, etc etc...is subject to a varying tariff rate of 3%- 78%..while the products with less than 4% Aargon matter and are 34% made in Burma, Ceylon etc...will not be subject to a trade tariff unless the product has been made by dwarfs..."
Who fucking makes this shit up.....?
Ok.....aim the pen at the tick box on the form and put in something...hope for the best....they won't really check...will they......back to the counter...."No"...he says again.....that's wrong....."What's wrong?" I say....the rate?...."What should it be?" I said...."Its in the book"...he said.....
So for another hour or so...this went on and on.....my brother in law was waiting...his car in the impound compound.....and I was getting ever more vocal and frustrated......
4th visit to the counter I am on the verge of histrionics.... "I am a taxpayer...I should not be treated like this...." That tactic, as I found out...is not a good one.........he has the Glock and the Taser...and the car...and the skis and the snowboards....and my nuts...all in the palm of his ham sized hand...
At the same time that I am about to pull out the last ditch effort of saying.." my birthday is the same as Pierre Trudeau...I should be exempt from this hassle..." out of desperation and exasperation I look to my left at the next counter for help of any kind....and who do I see....?
My childhood friend...Darrell Stephenson......! How weird is this.....?.what is he doing in the impound compound at the border.....hmmm...he has paperwork...and the border guard is actually nice to him......wow... How did he do that..?
"Hey Darrell..."...Big smile...we embrace, shake hands.....catch up....still married to Chris Horne..? Kids..? what where when and how...etc etc..."
"Yeah all is good " he says....."What are you doing here?"...."Oh...I am stuck at the border with this dickhead and he won't let me go as I have skis and don't meet the tariff rates or some such fucking nonsense...and the car is in a locked and gated compound. !"..."what are you doing here?" I ask .....
"I am a trucker......this is my regular route..."....."cool" I say..." Listen" Says Darrell....I have to get one more piece of paperwork filled out...I'll be right back"....and off he goes....
Nice to catch up...despite the unusual circumstances....
At this point I am really frustrated...it has been 2 hours....the car and skis are still stuck and my brother in law is no longer calling me Dude....all of these things are bad signs....
Just as I am about to go and talk to Danny the brother in law, I see Darrell walking across the Customs room.....He is coming towards me...but not looking me in the eye....this is weird... I think.....Just as we are about to pass I say to him..."Hey great to see you again...we should stay in touch...." He shakes my hand...not saying a word...palms something into my hand and walks away and out the door...
What the hell!..that is just weird.....I look into my hand....he has handed off to me a 50 cent parking token....." A parking token....!....a FUCKING PARKING token...that is just too weird..." I stare at it....hmmm.....he must be on Crack I think....I put the token into my pocket....not sure what to think...
I turn and cross back the room to where my brother in law is sitting...fuming.....stewing...
" Danny"...I say..."Can't you just drive out of the compound?"...."No....Dude....the compound is locked, there is great big fucking gate that won't open unless you have a parking token....!"....
B-I-N-G-O !!!!
"You mean like this one?" grabbing it hungrily out of my pants pocket...."Yup...Dude, you're a genius".....
I give him the token....and my blessing..."go for it..."......Off Danny goes to the compound...I go to wait in my car sitting outside the compound....moments later......the gate slides open...out drives Danny..... BONUS!...we are free....
Off we go.....home free....woohoo...I thought there might be some consequences...but really....what can they do....how will they find us....we are good people.....no harm no foul right...?
I get home 45 minutes later.....sat down and cracked a beer.....bringgg...phone rings...." John Graham?"....oh-oh...."Mr. Graham this is the RCMP and Customs control....were you here earlier this evening?"...."ah....maybe.."..." No maybes about it Mr Graham, were you or were you not here tonight?....."Ummmm...yes.....but I can explain...!"....
"Mr Graham...what you have done is a Federal offense.......you must be here at the border by 8:00 a.m. tomorrow or we will arrest you....is that understood?'....ummm...yup...
A sleepless night ensued....I wondered if they would waterboard me....pull out my fingernails with pliers....make me admit to crimes I hadn't committed... I was toast....
The next morning...8 a.m ...I am at the border......
" May I see Constable Schmidt please...my name is John Graham..."
"Oh...Mr Graham...we have been waiting for you.......I see you ran the border last night...this is an indictable offense.....you do know that..?".... I was not sure the correct answer to this....other than to shit my pants...
"Ok..."..."What can I do...?"
"Well...here's what we will be doing...you go sit down over there and we will figure out the duty and tariff rate along with any penalty...we will then triple the penalty and tariff amount sand that will be the fine....got it?"
Oh shit....I am hooped.....
So for half an hour I watched as Sgt Sedanko....(Cheech and Chong reference) went through tariff books, rate sheets and every other manual, binder in the place...the occasional "humpf" emanating from him....
" Mr Graham"...more of a command than a question...." Mr Graham, come here..."...
I approached the counter....what would be my punishment..... ?
" Mr Graham....I have some news for you....K2 is the ONLY ski manufactured domestically in the U.S......as such there is no duties or tariffs......so 3 times nothing...is still nothing...consider yourself lucky.....get out of here....and I never want to see you again....ok?"
I couldn't believe my luck.............
Around 1991 I worked as the manager for an extreme sports filmmaker Greg Stump. At the time we were doing a ski film, Dr. Strangeglove...(of course we were..) .....we had a number of corporate sponsors who gave us money or products or both....one of the sponsors was K2 skis which were then out of Bainbridge Island just off of Seattle Washington.....We were given 20 skis and snowboards by K2 as part of our deal....
I needed to get them back to Whistler for an event and filming so I asked my 20 year old Brother in law Danny if he wanted a free snowboard..."Sure Dude.." hey said..."the only catch...you need to drive down to K2 and pick up the stuff and bring it back"..."Sure Dude"...he said....
So off he went, picked up the skis and snowboards and came back to Canada...this took all day and about 7 o'clock in the evening I had still not heard from him.....I was getting concerned....
The phone rang...."Hey Dude...I am stuck at the border and can't get out...."The Man" is being a Dick...."
Ok...I thought...I can fix this......I am on the "MAN's" wavelength..."I'll be right down Danny..." "Ok Dude...but hurry, they are pissing me off..."...Not a good thing to piss off guys with guns I thought...
Down I went...arriving at the border I found Danny to be in the commercial impound compound..."hey Danny...I told you to go through the regular lanes and tell them you were a pro skier and these were yours"...."I did Dude...but them didn't believe me...then The MAN sent me here and I'm locked in an impound lot.......Dude..."
I'll fix this....off to the counter to speak with and straighten out this border guard.......(What was I Thinking....?)
"So...I see you have my Brother in law in the impound compound...what seems to be the problem...?"
An indecipherable grunt from the 6'3" creature with the Glock sidearm who stood on the other side of the counter......."He does not have the appropriate paperwork"...
"Well...these are for personal use.." I state...
"Don't care...he still needs the paperwork..." cites The MAN
Ok..I say to myself...how hard can this be to figure out....."Alright...what info do you need...?" I inquire of the Taser Toting cretin....
" He needs to fill out a T5-72-B and include the duty rate from table 14 section 7c.....it is all in the books over there..."
He might as well have been speaking Albanian......I had no idea what he said...but I do know the information he wanted was in the Manhattantelephone directory sized books sitting across the room from me....
I can do this I said to myself.......Simple.....Who the fuck was I kidding...I am the least linear human being to ever walk the face of the earth...I embrace (and often create) chaos.....I can figure out how to make a toaster from a roll of Saran Wrap and a solar panel but fill out a form.....what was I thinking.... ?
So I filled out the form once....back to the counter...."No" he said....."No!..." No to what...? I said..
"You forgot the tariff section... "
Ok...back to the book....tariffs, tariffs...must be in here...oh...ok...tarriffs...it says...."any product made in the USA that is not made in any other country but has more than 34% of materials made in the following countries, Burma, Ceylon, etc etc...is subject to a varying tariff rate of 3%- 78%..while the products with less than 4% Aargon matter and are 34% made in Burma, Ceylon etc...will not be subject to a trade tariff unless the product has been made by dwarfs..."
Who fucking makes this shit up.....?
Ok.....aim the pen at the tick box on the form and put in something...hope for the best....they won't really check...will they......back to the counter...."No"...he says again.....that's wrong....."What's wrong?" I say....the rate?...."What should it be?" I said...."Its in the book"...he said.....
So for another hour or so...this went on and on.....my brother in law was waiting...his car in the impound compound.....and I was getting ever more vocal and frustrated......
4th visit to the counter I am on the verge of histrionics.... "I am a taxpayer...I should not be treated like this...." That tactic, as I found out...is not a good one.........he has the Glock and the Taser...and the car...and the skis and the snowboards....and my nuts...all in the palm of his ham sized hand...
At the same time that I am about to pull out the last ditch effort of saying.." my birthday is the same as Pierre Trudeau...I should be exempt from this hassle..." out of desperation and exasperation I look to my left at the next counter for help of any kind....and who do I see....?
My childhood friend...Darrell Stephenson......! How weird is this.....?.what is he doing in the impound compound at the border.....hmmm...he has paperwork...and the border guard is actually nice to him......wow... How did he do that..?
"Hey Darrell..."...Big smile...we embrace, shake hands.....catch up....still married to Chris Horne..? Kids..? what where when and how...etc etc..."
"Yeah all is good " he says....."What are you doing here?"...."Oh...I am stuck at the border with this dickhead and he won't let me go as I have skis and don't meet the tariff rates or some such fucking nonsense...and the car is in a locked and gated compound. !"..."what are you doing here?" I ask .....
"I am a trucker......this is my regular route..."....."cool" I say..." Listen" Says Darrell....I have to get one more piece of paperwork filled out...I'll be right back"....and off he goes....
Nice to catch up...despite the unusual circumstances....
At this point I am really frustrated...it has been 2 hours....the car and skis are still stuck and my brother in law is no longer calling me Dude....all of these things are bad signs....
Just as I am about to go and talk to Danny the brother in law, I see Darrell walking across the Customs room.....He is coming towards me...but not looking me in the eye....this is weird... I think.....Just as we are about to pass I say to him..."Hey great to see you again...we should stay in touch...." He shakes my hand...not saying a word...palms something into my hand and walks away and out the door...
What the hell!..that is just weird.....I look into my hand....he has handed off to me a 50 cent parking token....." A parking token....!....a FUCKING PARKING token...that is just too weird..." I stare at it....hmmm.....he must be on Crack I think....I put the token into my pocket....not sure what to think...
I turn and cross back the room to where my brother in law is sitting...fuming.....stewing...
" Danny"...I say..."Can't you just drive out of the compound?"...."No....Dude....the compound is locked, there is great big fucking gate that won't open unless you have a parking token....!"....
B-I-N-G-O !!!!
"You mean like this one?" grabbing it hungrily out of my pants pocket...."Yup...Dude, you're a genius".....
I give him the token....and my blessing..."go for it..."......Off Danny goes to the compound...I go to wait in my car sitting outside the compound....moments later......the gate slides open...out drives Danny..... BONUS!...we are free....
Off we go.....home free....woohoo...I thought there might be some consequences...but really....what can they do....how will they find us....we are good people.....no harm no foul right...?
I get home 45 minutes later.....sat down and cracked a beer.....bringgg...phone rings...." John Graham?"....oh-oh...."Mr. Graham this is the RCMP and Customs control....were you here earlier this evening?"...."ah....maybe.."..." No maybes about it Mr Graham, were you or were you not here tonight?....."Ummmm...yes.....but I can explain...!"....
"Mr Graham...what you have done is a Federal offense.......you must be here at the border by 8:00 a.m. tomorrow or we will arrest you....is that understood?'....ummm...yup...
A sleepless night ensued....I wondered if they would waterboard me....pull out my fingernails with pliers....make me admit to crimes I hadn't committed... I was toast....
The next morning...8 a.m ...I am at the border......
" May I see Constable Schmidt please...my name is John Graham..."
"Oh...Mr Graham...we have been waiting for you.......I see you ran the border last night...this is an indictable offense.....you do know that..?".... I was not sure the correct answer to this....other than to shit my pants...
"Ok..."..."What can I do...?"
"Well...here's what we will be doing...you go sit down over there and we will figure out the duty and tariff rate along with any penalty...we will then triple the penalty and tariff amount sand that will be the fine....got it?"
Oh shit....I am hooped.....
So for half an hour I watched as Sgt Sedanko....(Cheech and Chong reference) went through tariff books, rate sheets and every other manual, binder in the place...the occasional "humpf" emanating from him....
" Mr Graham"...more of a command than a question...." Mr Graham, come here..."...
I approached the counter....what would be my punishment..... ?
" Mr Graham....I have some news for you....K2 is the ONLY ski manufactured domestically in the U.S......as such there is no duties or tariffs......so 3 times nothing...is still nothing...consider yourself lucky.....get out of here....and I never want to see you again....ok?"
I couldn't believe my luck.............
Just Say No......Drugs and Falling off of a Roof
Like most people my age much of my youth was spent in the pursuit of obtaining better and better drugs...... Much like today's average Korean student chases straight A+'s I chased A+ drugs...... I know, I know...you are saying...how revolting....today we see people who use drugs as the subject of celebrity rehab or drooling on camera for TMZ and then becoming a punchline for a bad joke.........but in the mid 70's kids who used drugs saw it as a social calling......
Today I just can't do drugs.....stopped when I was 20 (except for the odd toke about every 5 years.....and oh yeah...Cocaine in the 80's...but that's another chapter..) ...if I take a hit now I go stunned..........I have chosen this word to become a non-descriptive and used it as a danglingparticiple or homeless (?) word but really...I do go stunned.......3 tokes gives me 3 days of uninterrupted duh........I have long since grown out of wanting to be like that..........
But in 76 drugs were fun....really they were.....they were not some escape to Neverland but were a way of connecting with your fellow friend.......
A side effect of all this connecting was often a lot of stupid shit...but hey......great stories to tell the Grand kids......they will think you're a Loon....but all the more lovable.... (" Hey did you know that Granny was a pothead once....?" Really...I shit you not...!"....but I digress..)
There are times when the events that happened to you would not have been possible were it not for drugs......or at least I would like to think of it this way....
In the summer of 76, me, Victor, Ray Lasell and I think Mike Graff got into Victor's little Blue Ford Truck.....we went down to the beach and the area around Ft Rodd Hill in Victoria......Ft Rodd had been built late in the 19th century to defend us from Russian whalers or some such shit....hard to believe that in the 19th century a boatload of Vodka soused Russian whalers posed that much of a national threat but hey.......who am I to knock a Federal boondoggle like building a gigantic fort in the hinterlands ostensibly to defend Canada's sovereignty from whalers or other sports fishermen....but I digress.....
On the Ft Rodd land there are a bunch of gun emplacements.....at one time they held a giant Howitzer of some sort......loaded and ready to obliterate any whaler that came even close.....these guns were long gone...(having never fired a shot I might add...) and what was left was the bunkers....concrete a foot thick.......(all built to repulse drunk Russian whalers and their weapon of choice..... a Trebuchet loaded with Whale blubber.....) ...anyways
These buildings all had flat concrete roofs.......all of which was the perfect perch to lay upon on a hot summer night to watch the stars....talk with your friends and get away from parents......
On this night...we all got up on a bunkers roof.....beautifully warm......stars were out....it was an idyllic night.......so we sparked up adoobie....and laid around to commune....
For some reason....my inner dialogue was saying to me...you need to roll over and look straight up at the stars.......go ahead......you deserve it....
At the time I was laying on my right side with my head propped up and into my hand.....
These were big wide flat roofs........Ithought...or at least my inner dialogue told me......and that I had plenty of room with which to roll over on........However reality was a bit different...
I was laying on my side right along the edge of the roof....all of which was about 15 feet above the rocks below......
We were talking in low, quiet, nearly conspiratorial tones....everyone was in eye contact with each other as we lounged upon that roof.....
So.......in the midst of the conversation......my inner dialogue said...Hey rollover and look at the stars.....Ok I said...trust the inner voice.. (NOT!)
So as we all talked about life, love, dislikes and the future....I rolled over and off of the roof.....
Now sometimes..... moments will last forever...and this was one of those moments.......I remember being about halfway through the roll and I noticed everyone else's eyes had become as big as fried eggs.......I think a nano second later I was pretty sure I had done something wrong......but was not sure entirely what it was.....
As I continued to roll past the edge of the roof and to slowly plummet to sure death I had the strangest recollection of thinking...hmm..this is a really dumb way to die.......and then that intermniable float/plummet to the rocks below....
How is it that time can stretch....?....and why is it that time stretches at these moments.....?.these and other cosmic questions trotted through my head as I sped towards certain death or possible disfigurement.....
CRACK....!!!! I hit the bare, craggy rocks below.....silence........was I dead...? was I horribly maimed.....? I could only hear the sounds of whispers coming from the roof above......."he rolled off the roof...did you see it...he fucking rolled off the fucking roof..."...
I lay there.....not sure if I should move...
I then started to chuckle.......above me and peering over the ledge.... 15 feet away.... a pair of eyes looked over and then another...and another....like a small family of Raccoon's peering into the garbage can I saw Victor, Ray and Mike look down at me, blinking in silent disbelief........"Are you ok...?"
Today I just can't do drugs.....stopped when I was 20 (except for the odd toke about every 5 years.....and oh yeah...Cocaine in the 80's...but that's another chapter..) ...if I take a hit now I go stunned..........I have chosen this word to become a non-descriptive and used it as a danglingparticiple or homeless (?) word but really...I do go stunned.......3 tokes gives me 3 days of uninterrupted duh........I have long since grown out of wanting to be like that..........
But in 76 drugs were fun....really they were.....they were not some escape to Neverland but were a way of connecting with your fellow friend.......
A side effect of all this connecting was often a lot of stupid shit...but hey......great stories to tell the Grand kids......they will think you're a Loon....but all the more lovable.... (" Hey did you know that Granny was a pothead once....?" Really...I shit you not...!"....but I digress..)
There are times when the events that happened to you would not have been possible were it not for drugs......or at least I would like to think of it this way....
In the summer of 76, me, Victor, Ray Lasell and I think Mike Graff got into Victor's little Blue Ford Truck.....we went down to the beach and the area around Ft Rodd Hill in Victoria......Ft Rodd had been built late in the 19th century to defend us from Russian whalers or some such shit....hard to believe that in the 19th century a boatload of Vodka soused Russian whalers posed that much of a national threat but hey.......who am I to knock a Federal boondoggle like building a gigantic fort in the hinterlands ostensibly to defend Canada's sovereignty from whalers or other sports fishermen....but I digress.....
On the Ft Rodd land there are a bunch of gun emplacements.....at one time they held a giant Howitzer of some sort......loaded and ready to obliterate any whaler that came even close.....these guns were long gone...(having never fired a shot I might add...) and what was left was the bunkers....concrete a foot thick.......(all built to repulse drunk Russian whalers and their weapon of choice..... a Trebuchet loaded with Whale blubber.....) ...anyways
These buildings all had flat concrete roofs.......all of which was the perfect perch to lay upon on a hot summer night to watch the stars....talk with your friends and get away from parents......
On this night...we all got up on a bunkers roof.....beautifully warm......stars were out....it was an idyllic night.......so we sparked up adoobie....and laid around to commune....
For some reason....my inner dialogue was saying to me...you need to roll over and look straight up at the stars.......go ahead......you deserve it....
At the time I was laying on my right side with my head propped up and into my hand.....
These were big wide flat roofs........Ithought...or at least my inner dialogue told me......and that I had plenty of room with which to roll over on........However reality was a bit different...
I was laying on my side right along the edge of the roof....all of which was about 15 feet above the rocks below......
We were talking in low, quiet, nearly conspiratorial tones....everyone was in eye contact with each other as we lounged upon that roof.....
So.......in the midst of the conversation......my inner dialogue said...Hey rollover and look at the stars.....Ok I said...trust the inner voice.. (NOT!)
So as we all talked about life, love, dislikes and the future....I rolled over and off of the roof.....
Now sometimes..... moments will last forever...and this was one of those moments.......I remember being about halfway through the roll and I noticed everyone else's eyes had become as big as fried eggs.......I think a nano second later I was pretty sure I had done something wrong......but was not sure entirely what it was.....
As I continued to roll past the edge of the roof and to slowly plummet to sure death I had the strangest recollection of thinking...hmm..this is a really dumb way to die.......and then that intermniable float/plummet to the rocks below....
How is it that time can stretch....?....and why is it that time stretches at these moments.....?.these and other cosmic questions trotted through my head as I sped towards certain death or possible disfigurement.....
CRACK....!!!! I hit the bare, craggy rocks below.....silence........was I dead...? was I horribly maimed.....? I could only hear the sounds of whispers coming from the roof above......."he rolled off the roof...did you see it...he fucking rolled off the fucking roof..."...
I lay there.....not sure if I should move...
I then started to chuckle.......above me and peering over the ledge.... 15 feet away.... a pair of eyes looked over and then another...and another....like a small family of Raccoon's peering into the garbage can I saw Victor, Ray and Mike look down at me, blinking in silent disbelief........"Are you ok...?"
NEWSFLASH: There is no such thing as Hell.....Party on Wayne...!
This may seem like a fruitless exercise but I am going to take the side that if there is a God...then there is no such thing as Hell......
My argument.
It seems to me that everyone who believes in God says "God is infinite"..."God is Everywhere"...."God loves me...I know...".."God....he loves a sinner..."
Alright...I'll accept that...I mean if you're going to have and believe in God then why not make him the best God you can get......( I think that should be a slogan for a Church....."Our God.....The best you can get.." )
Because we know that it is unlikely that God will send us a "Cease and Desist" letter to us for merely puffing up his powers......then why not make him a superhuman God...afterall.....he is superhuman....right..?
Anyways....If God is infinite in his love....then the following must be true.
1) Everyone....I mean everyone goes to Heaven....Hitler and Mother Teresa are up there right now....side by side....chatting in the line-up for the best buffet ever......Why not...? This God is infinite...right?
Well if he is infinite then he has forgiven everyone and has therefore admitted everyone to Heaven....If 1 person/soul is not in Heaven then the whole God is infinite and loving theory goes right out the fucking window......
Infinite means never ending......attach the words most commonly associated with the best of God...your God...or anybodies God.....loving, kind, forgiving, wise, etc .....and add the words never ending in front of any of them.........well....
Basically you have described a person or God that has only 1 way to look at things....(infinitely positive......kind of a God on a celestial Prozac buzz......)
Therefore.....If God loves, forgives.....EVERYONE...ALL OF THE TIME......then by definition.... all of us go to Heaven....
If everyone goes to Heaven........then why would Hell exist.....?
2) Anything else.....See point 1.
My argument.
It seems to me that everyone who believes in God says "God is infinite"..."God is Everywhere"...."God loves me...I know...".."God....he loves a sinner..."
Alright...I'll accept that...I mean if you're going to have and believe in God then why not make him the best God you can get......( I think that should be a slogan for a Church....."Our God.....The best you can get.." )
Because we know that it is unlikely that God will send us a "Cease and Desist" letter to us for merely puffing up his powers......then why not make him a superhuman God...afterall.....he is superhuman....right..?
Anyways....If God is infinite in his love....then the following must be true.
1) Everyone....I mean everyone goes to Heaven....Hitler and Mother Teresa are up there right now....side by side....chatting in the line-up for the best buffet ever......Why not...? This God is infinite...right?
Well if he is infinite then he has forgiven everyone and has therefore admitted everyone to Heaven....If 1 person/soul is not in Heaven then the whole God is infinite and loving theory goes right out the fucking window......
Infinite means never ending......attach the words most commonly associated with the best of God...your God...or anybodies God.....loving, kind, forgiving, wise, etc .....and add the words never ending in front of any of them.........well....
Basically you have described a person or God that has only 1 way to look at things....(infinitely positive......kind of a God on a celestial Prozac buzz......)
Therefore.....If God loves, forgives.....EVERYONE...ALL OF THE TIME......then by definition.... all of us go to Heaven....
If everyone goes to Heaven........then why would Hell exist.....?
2) Anything else.....See point 1.
Its Only Rock and Roll.....
Much of my youth and early adulthood was spent playing in rock bands....I was the bass player and singer..... this was of course a recipe for trouble....
My first few bands were formed with my best friend...Victor Zupanc...
Victor is one of those unique people who is both crazed on the one side and the parents wet dream child on the other.......Victor has his Masters in Music composition and went through school with straight A's....he was also the craziest person I have yet to meet.....
When Victor was attending University for music we had a popular local band called The Tumours....long before political correctness took such a firm hold on society a name like The Tumours was seen as being.....well...rather snappy....Our motto was "They'll grow on you..."
Victor was in the final year of his 4 year bachelor program and life for him was tense....always the perfectionist, Victor was under a lot of pressure to make his final grades... superb....
At the same time as all of the above we had just finished recording the last album of The Tumours.....tracks had been surreptitiously recorded at the University's new million dollar studio....today the capabilities of that studio would fit on your I-pod but back in 80's these were world class facilities....and facilities that were definitely not for the use of Rock Bands.....that being said....
Victor was always one to play as close to the edge as anyone I knew.......night after night we snuck into the studio after the building was closed up...Victor would hide in the men's washroom until the security guard had locked up then he would come to the door at 1 a.m. and let us in.......to do this, we were definitely breaking laws.......
This B&E'ing went on for about 7 nights as we mixed down the tracks, overdubbed and did vocals....
On about the 6th night Victor was in the studio alone by himself when a Prof came in to use the studio...finding Victor madly mixing away rock music at about 100 Decibels the Prof was shocked and outraged.....the next day.......Victor was called up before the faculty board of the Music Department and summarily and in no uncertain terms told that NO MORE ROCK AND ROLL in the Universities studio or immediate dismissal would be possible.....
That next night, Victor and I got together to discuss the state of the unfinished album/tapes....he was panic stricken.....afraid that he would get tossed from the school.... Victor did not want to risk going back in the studio.....
I, on the other hand, had nothing to lose......so I lobbied Victor hard to risk just 1 more night to go in there and wrap it up....my lobbying took a few days but finally Victor caved..... ( I could usually get him to do so.....:)
"Ok" he said..."but we do one night....Midnight to Dawn and we get it all done...I am scared shitless and I can only risk it one more time....ok?"
I nodded approval.......
That night, Victor hid in the men's washroom as usual.....the midnight tour of the guard took place and as planned at 12:15 a.m. he opened up the school's studio doors and snuck us in.......I had my girlfriend, Barb, in tow......
Now ....one would think that with everything academic on the line a guy like Victor would play it as safe as humanly possible....no noise, keep the place clean......
But this was not Victor's style......I think it is possible that Victor had some oddly formed death wish.........when faced with a challenge .....Victor...one of the safest, most respectful people on the planet will always opt for the most ridiculous solution....
Case in point....
Into the studio we go, Victor me and Barb.....once inside Victor pulls out a gallon jug of homemade wine and 2 fat reefers....."Well....If I'm going get the boot" he says...."I am going out in style...!"
The wine flowed, the tape rolled, the sounds were being mixed and we were having a great time....
at around 3 a.m. Barb excused herself to go to the washroom....we barely missed her.....we were creating...!!...........right in the middle of a toke and about our 3rd or 4th glass of wine....the inner door to the studio creaked open ever so slowly.....
We looked up through the smokey haze of the pot filled studio ...thinking Barb would be walking back in....but no....it was a 60 year-old security guard....
He opened the door....we could tell he was afraid.....but he also knew he had a job to do.....he cautiously eyeballed me and Victor ........5 seconds of silence...the guard spoke..." Does either of you know a tall Blonde girl...?"
Both of us in unison......." a Blonde girl...? Nope...no Blonde girl......nope..we've never ever known one..."........stony silence all around....
I am sure that even the old guard knew this had to be wrong....afterall he did not just make up the whole "anybody know a blonde girl thing...."..........obviously he had caught Barb wandering the hall looking for the washroom.......surely she would have blabbed....he must think we are retards.....he was also sniffing the air and eyeing the open wine jug.....he could also be thinking we are drug addled break in artists........It was not looking good......I am sure if he had a Taser back then he would have Tasered us both........instead...he just jangled his 4 lb ring of keys......still the stony silence persisted...
Then Victor piped up..." A Blonde girl....oh yeah...a Blonde girl...sure we know a Blonde girl.....she's about this high...." holding his hand shoulder high.........(like there were other Blonde girls of various heights to be found wandering the halls...)
Stony silence hung in the room.......Victor broke it..." Yeah she's his girlfriend...." Pointing at me....
"Who are you ?" said the guard
Before I could answer, Victor spoke..." This is professor Graham...he's my faculty advisor...."
Now...at age 20...I did not look like any Prof I knew.....Even if I had been some boy genius graduating high school at age 12 I was still unlikely to pass the Professorial type........still...
"Well the police have the Blonde girl in the car outside and she seems a bit confused..." said the Guard....." we better go speak to the cops.."
"Of course " I said....standing up.......
As I walked to the door and the cops outside I was thinking this was it.....we were going to be arrested, break and enter, mischief, impersonating a Professor.....we were toast....and Victor was about to be expelled....
I followed the guard outside....there were 2 cop cars....lights flashing, radios crackling in the night air........I was in the lead with the guard at my heels.....
As we approached the cars....I could see Barb sitting in the backseat......the cops speaking to her....she was gesticulating wildly....this could not be good....
I spoke up as strongly as I could...."ahem...She's with me.." I said....the cop turned...."And who are you...?"
Before I could answer, the guard who was behind me piped up..." Its okay...Its professor Graham...."......
The cops bought it...hook , line and sinker........they released Barb into my "custody"......
The guard then let us back into the music studio where we found Victor trembling in fear......he knew he was toast.....
We continued our work and finished the album....as dawn broke we were about to leave....Victor feeling like he was going to go down with the ship decided he might as well make a final statement......."hey" said to me..."give me a hand..."......just before we left the building we grabbed one of the upright pianos from the studio, wheeled it out into the hall and then wheeled it into the women's washroom...." There.." He said......" That I'll show them....."
Victor did not get suspended and graduated with honours........will wonders ever cease..........
My first few bands were formed with my best friend...Victor Zupanc...
Victor is one of those unique people who is both crazed on the one side and the parents wet dream child on the other.......Victor has his Masters in Music composition and went through school with straight A's....he was also the craziest person I have yet to meet.....
When Victor was attending University for music we had a popular local band called The Tumours....long before political correctness took such a firm hold on society a name like The Tumours was seen as being.....well...rather snappy....Our motto was "They'll grow on you..."
Victor was in the final year of his 4 year bachelor program and life for him was tense....always the perfectionist, Victor was under a lot of pressure to make his final grades... superb....
At the same time as all of the above we had just finished recording the last album of The Tumours.....tracks had been surreptitiously recorded at the University's new million dollar studio....today the capabilities of that studio would fit on your I-pod but back in 80's these were world class facilities....and facilities that were definitely not for the use of Rock Bands.....that being said....
Victor was always one to play as close to the edge as anyone I knew.......night after night we snuck into the studio after the building was closed up...Victor would hide in the men's washroom until the security guard had locked up then he would come to the door at 1 a.m. and let us in.......to do this, we were definitely breaking laws.......
This B&E'ing went on for about 7 nights as we mixed down the tracks, overdubbed and did vocals....
On about the 6th night Victor was in the studio alone by himself when a Prof came in to use the studio...finding Victor madly mixing away rock music at about 100 Decibels the Prof was shocked and outraged.....the next day.......Victor was called up before the faculty board of the Music Department and summarily and in no uncertain terms told that NO MORE ROCK AND ROLL in the Universities studio or immediate dismissal would be possible.....
That next night, Victor and I got together to discuss the state of the unfinished album/tapes....he was panic stricken.....afraid that he would get tossed from the school.... Victor did not want to risk going back in the studio.....
I, on the other hand, had nothing to lose......so I lobbied Victor hard to risk just 1 more night to go in there and wrap it up....my lobbying took a few days but finally Victor caved..... ( I could usually get him to do so.....:)
"Ok" he said..."but we do one night....Midnight to Dawn and we get it all done...I am scared shitless and I can only risk it one more time....ok?"
I nodded approval.......
That night, Victor hid in the men's washroom as usual.....the midnight tour of the guard took place and as planned at 12:15 a.m. he opened up the school's studio doors and snuck us in.......I had my girlfriend, Barb, in tow......
Now ....one would think that with everything academic on the line a guy like Victor would play it as safe as humanly possible....no noise, keep the place clean......
But this was not Victor's style......I think it is possible that Victor had some oddly formed death wish.........when faced with a challenge .....Victor...one of the safest, most respectful people on the planet will always opt for the most ridiculous solution....
Case in point....
Into the studio we go, Victor me and Barb.....once inside Victor pulls out a gallon jug of homemade wine and 2 fat reefers....."Well....If I'm going get the boot" he says...."I am going out in style...!"
The wine flowed, the tape rolled, the sounds were being mixed and we were having a great time....
at around 3 a.m. Barb excused herself to go to the washroom....we barely missed her.....we were creating...!!...........right in the middle of a toke and about our 3rd or 4th glass of wine....the inner door to the studio creaked open ever so slowly.....
We looked up through the smokey haze of the pot filled studio ...thinking Barb would be walking back in....but no....it was a 60 year-old security guard....
He opened the door....we could tell he was afraid.....but he also knew he had a job to do.....he cautiously eyeballed me and Victor ........5 seconds of silence...the guard spoke..." Does either of you know a tall Blonde girl...?"
Both of us in unison......." a Blonde girl...? Nope...no Blonde girl......nope..we've never ever known one..."........stony silence all around....
I am sure that even the old guard knew this had to be wrong....afterall he did not just make up the whole "anybody know a blonde girl thing...."..........obviously he had caught Barb wandering the hall looking for the washroom.......surely she would have blabbed....he must think we are retards.....he was also sniffing the air and eyeing the open wine jug.....he could also be thinking we are drug addled break in artists........It was not looking good......I am sure if he had a Taser back then he would have Tasered us both........instead...he just jangled his 4 lb ring of keys......still the stony silence persisted...
Then Victor piped up..." A Blonde girl....oh yeah...a Blonde girl...sure we know a Blonde girl.....she's about this high...." holding his hand shoulder high.........(like there were other Blonde girls of various heights to be found wandering the halls...)
Stony silence hung in the room.......Victor broke it..." Yeah she's his girlfriend...." Pointing at me....
"Who are you ?" said the guard
Before I could answer, Victor spoke..." This is professor Graham...he's my faculty advisor...."
Now...at age 20...I did not look like any Prof I knew.....Even if I had been some boy genius graduating high school at age 12 I was still unlikely to pass the Professorial type........still...
"Well the police have the Blonde girl in the car outside and she seems a bit confused..." said the Guard....." we better go speak to the cops.."
"Of course " I said....standing up.......
As I walked to the door and the cops outside I was thinking this was it.....we were going to be arrested, break and enter, mischief, impersonating a Professor.....we were toast....and Victor was about to be expelled....
I followed the guard outside....there were 2 cop cars....lights flashing, radios crackling in the night air........I was in the lead with the guard at my heels.....
As we approached the cars....I could see Barb sitting in the backseat......the cops speaking to her....she was gesticulating wildly....this could not be good....
I spoke up as strongly as I could...."ahem...She's with me.." I said....the cop turned...."And who are you...?"
Before I could answer, the guard who was behind me piped up..." Its okay...Its professor Graham...."......
The cops bought it...hook , line and sinker........they released Barb into my "custody"......
The guard then let us back into the music studio where we found Victor trembling in fear......he knew he was toast.....
We continued our work and finished the album....as dawn broke we were about to leave....Victor feeling like he was going to go down with the ship decided he might as well make a final statement......."hey" said to me..."give me a hand..."......just before we left the building we grabbed one of the upright pianos from the studio, wheeled it out into the hall and then wheeled it into the women's washroom...." There.." He said......" That I'll show them....."
Victor did not get suspended and graduated with honours........will wonders ever cease..........
Its only Rock and Roll ...Part Deux
I have always had a lucky streak.....that and a pinch of bullshit as my mother used to say....got my in and out of many situations.......in the early 80's I moved to Vancouver to be a working musician....
I played 6 nights a week in an "A" room club band...Aside from being the singer and bass player I did all of my bands booking business.....We were represented by the Feldman Agency which was, and still is, Canada's most powerful agency and management house.
As a result of working in a Feldman band when an agent position became available.....(which happened only about once every 3-4 years...) I lobbied hard for the job........I got the job....... it was a plum position.....
The Agency was co-owned by 2 people, Sam Feldman and Bruce Allen......Sam and Bruce had had a huge falling out about 3 years earlier with Sam making a midnight move from Bruce with the result being that Sam and Bruce were now in warring camps ......except that they were still joined both financially and legally at the hip.....its was akin to Diego Rivera and Frieda......living in separate houses joined by a bridge......fighting yet never quite able to get away from each other.........as the years have past, they have both become ridiculously wealthy...and I understand they have mellowed in the dotage.....
I had been working for Sam all of about 5 months and at 23 years of age was by far and away the youngest agent.......on this particular day all of the head guys were out of town....Shaw was in Toronto, Rob was on holidays and Sam was skiing on Blackcomb.....
The offices were a very intimate setting .....each of us working in a French door enclosed office that opened up to a small common area......as a result you could hear everything that went on in each others world.....when an agent was fighting for or with a band or a dispute took place between agents the whole of the office knew about it.....in a way it was very much a group therapy type of situation......
It was in this setting that the following happened........
It was late in the morning and as I said all the main guys..(Jews...yes Jews...they run the music business.....I know this sounds racist but it is true and quite possibly there is a law that all music business people must be Jewish...) were away for the day.......
Harry Wanstall, our 65 year old accountant had his office about 15 feet directly in front of mine.....Harry was the ideal of an accountant....old, cautious, thinning hair and wore a Cardigan ....seldom did I ever hear Harry speak let alone raise his voice......
That morning I hear him quite clearly.....I heard a few brusque words and then he slammed the phone back into its cradle.......my ears perked up.....what was that all about .....?....I wondered...
Kim Blake, our receptionist, called out to Harry...."Harry....Bruce (Allen) is on the line again and he sounds really pissed that you hung up on him..."
My ears really perked up........I heard Harry pick up the phone and yell into it....." I don't care who you think you are, I will not sign a cheque for you while Sam is out of the office......." Slam....down goes the receiver...... !
This cannot be a good thing.....even though Harry was Sam's accountant he was technically both Sam and Bruce's employee.......Bruce was also known as bit of a wildman.......the kind to throw chairs, fits and punches when he did not get things to go his way.......
Kim yelled out again......."Harry..... Bruce is screaming at me....he sounds like he is frothing......I think he's saying that Crystal and Chu-Chu are on their way here.....I think this is serious Harry.....he sounds like he's spitting..."
Tension mounted amongst the few remaining office staff.......added to this was my excitement that I might finally get to meet Bruce.....(What was I thinking...?...nice timing...)....within minutes in stormed Crystal and Chu-Chu.......C an CC were Bruce's right arms.....both were unattractive rather mannish looking women .........Chu Chu, a little tank of a Polynesian woman....5 foot nothing and 170 lbs...had a slight hint of an upper lip moustache.......... while Crystal was tall...more of the Praying Mantis type....both, very scary.........In they marched.....planting themselves right at Harry's doorstep......about 10 feet from where I sat.......
" Write the cheque Harry" Chu Chu shrieked...." Write the goddamn cheque...!" ....Harry....all of a sudden unusually alert, rose to his feet....." I will not write the cheque without Sam's consent...and he's not here...!"
Crystal spoke...." Harry if you don't write the fucking cheque...Bruce is going to come down here....and let me tell you...you don't want Bruce here...now do you Harry?"........
"Screw him and the horse he rode in on..!"....this came from Harry....? Harry had never said anything unkind or even out loud......Harry was Clarke Kent...only older......the phone rang again......Kim answered.....
"Chu Chu....Bruce is on the line and wants to talk to you..."....Kim passed off the handset to Chu Chu....holding it like it was covered in the Ebola virus.....
" Yup....uh huh...that's right....Harry is right here and he refuses to write the cheque.....yup...uh huh...I told him and he won't listen....Bruce...he's gone crazy.......you want to talk to him...okay....Harry!....talk to Bruce....." She passed off the receiver to Harry....
Harry was now standing in front of his office......him, Chu Chu and Crystal all jostling each other a little .....I noticed that Harry was holding his coffee mug in his left hand, his thinning grey hair slicked back and his horn rimmed glasses perched on his bird like nose......He appeared to be wearing a Letterman sweater with a big C on the pocket....he looked like an extra off of the Happy Days TV series......
He took the phone from Chu Chu with a certain air of disdain....
" I will not write you a cheque......!!!" down he slammed the phone onto the receiver, knocking the whole phone out of Chu Chu's chubby little hands......
" Harry.......!! She screamed......they then started to push each other around....okay I thought....this is getting really weird.......we have a dwarf like Fijian with upper lip hair, a gangling Ichabod Crane woman and a 65 year old Richie Cunningham all pushing each other around....snarling and cussing like dogs do before a fight.......
That day...there was only 5 or 6 of us in the office at the time...Kim Blake, myself, Harry, Lenny, Denise Donlon who went onto become head of Sony Canada and CBC radio and Marty the Gay (not that there's anything wrong with that..) assistant accountant.....
In what seemed an impossibly short time I could hear someone striding up the stairs..... 3 steps at a time...the office door being flung open and Kim Blake shouted.... "Bruce is here!"...
In he strode......shit kicking cowboy boots on his feet, wearing a well worn leather jacket and sporting a number of large veins that were popping out of his forehead......So this was Bruce I thought.....hmmm...I wonder if I will get to introduce myself.......(What was I thinking...?)
He planted himself in front of Harry.....Chu Chu, Crystal and now Denise Donlon standing between the 2......Harry and Bruce...
" Write the fucking cheque you old fucking fart" Bruce bellowed......
" Go to hell..." said Harry...."I will not write the cheque to you....asshole!"....huh?...Did Harry just call Bruce an asshole...? Bruce is 25 years younger than Harry and my guess ...Bruce is a whole lot faster....what kind of senior moment was Harry having....?
Bruce bellowed back....."You're just pissed off 'cause I fired you're no good flaky son.......Rocket!!!" .... Harry's son had worked for Bruce and Bruce had fired Rocket....Rocket was a little flaky...but hey....what parent wants to hear that....?
Harry barked back...." If I was 20 years younger...I would hit you...!" and then it happened....Harry dropped his coffee mug, spilling coffee everywhere, he then reached across the 3 women in between himself and Bruce and threw a drifting right clipping Bruce on the side of the head.....
Oh shit.......I thought.....then all hell broke loose...Bruce tried to punch Harry....Denise screamed out......"Don't Bruce he's an old man!" and then all of them fell over into one big dogpile right in front of my office door.....a mass of humanity all kicking, clawing, screaming.......
Brrrring, Brrrring.....my personal office phone line rang.....this was my super secret number....I picked it up reflexively......."Hello".....
" Slab...." (my nickname at the time)...." You should be up here...its a beautiful day to ski...."...Oh fuck...Sam was calling me from the ski hill .....and he is having a great day while right in front of me his estranged business partner, his aging accountant and 3 women were all wrestling on the floor....
"Slab...! What's that noise...?'
"Um....well Bruce is here and Harry just punched him and now Bruce and Harry and Denise and Chu Chu and Crystal are ...well....fighting...."
" Get Bruce on the phone....!"
" Bruce..." I held out the receiver to writing dogpile in front of me........" Sam's on the line...."....
Bruce snatched the phone from my hand........he looked at me as if I was a bug......
Putting the receiver as tightly to his ear as humanly possible, his veins a poppin'.... he screamed and spat out his only words...." I don't care what it takes....He's out of here...!" he hands me back the phone...and storms out of the office.....I made a mental note to wash the phone receiver....
...."Sam...?' I said.....
" Slab...what happened...?" I gave Sam the 20 second synopsis...."Slab.....gather everyone together and tell them that if anyone says anything about this, they will all be fired......got it...?!"
"Yes Sam....."....I hung up.........the office was eerily quiet.......
Not long after, Harry retired........We were told he had planned this for some time........hmmmm.....
I played 6 nights a week in an "A" room club band...Aside from being the singer and bass player I did all of my bands booking business.....We were represented by the Feldman Agency which was, and still is, Canada's most powerful agency and management house.
As a result of working in a Feldman band when an agent position became available.....(which happened only about once every 3-4 years...) I lobbied hard for the job........I got the job....... it was a plum position.....
The Agency was co-owned by 2 people, Sam Feldman and Bruce Allen......Sam and Bruce had had a huge falling out about 3 years earlier with Sam making a midnight move from Bruce with the result being that Sam and Bruce were now in warring camps ......except that they were still joined both financially and legally at the hip.....its was akin to Diego Rivera and Frieda......living in separate houses joined by a bridge......fighting yet never quite able to get away from each other.........as the years have past, they have both become ridiculously wealthy...and I understand they have mellowed in the dotage.....
I had been working for Sam all of about 5 months and at 23 years of age was by far and away the youngest agent.......on this particular day all of the head guys were out of town....Shaw was in Toronto, Rob was on holidays and Sam was skiing on Blackcomb.....
The offices were a very intimate setting .....each of us working in a French door enclosed office that opened up to a small common area......as a result you could hear everything that went on in each others world.....when an agent was fighting for or with a band or a dispute took place between agents the whole of the office knew about it.....in a way it was very much a group therapy type of situation......
It was in this setting that the following happened........
It was late in the morning and as I said all the main guys..(Jews...yes Jews...they run the music business.....I know this sounds racist but it is true and quite possibly there is a law that all music business people must be Jewish...) were away for the day.......
Harry Wanstall, our 65 year old accountant had his office about 15 feet directly in front of mine.....Harry was the ideal of an accountant....old, cautious, thinning hair and wore a Cardigan ....seldom did I ever hear Harry speak let alone raise his voice......
That morning I hear him quite clearly.....I heard a few brusque words and then he slammed the phone back into its cradle.......my ears perked up.....what was that all about .....?....I wondered...
Kim Blake, our receptionist, called out to Harry...."Harry....Bruce (Allen) is on the line again and he sounds really pissed that you hung up on him..."
My ears really perked up........I heard Harry pick up the phone and yell into it....." I don't care who you think you are, I will not sign a cheque for you while Sam is out of the office......." Slam....down goes the receiver...... !
This cannot be a good thing.....even though Harry was Sam's accountant he was technically both Sam and Bruce's employee.......Bruce was also known as bit of a wildman.......the kind to throw chairs, fits and punches when he did not get things to go his way.......
Kim yelled out again......."Harry..... Bruce is screaming at me....he sounds like he is frothing......I think he's saying that Crystal and Chu-Chu are on their way here.....I think this is serious Harry.....he sounds like he's spitting..."
Tension mounted amongst the few remaining office staff.......added to this was my excitement that I might finally get to meet Bruce.....(What was I thinking...?...nice timing...)....within minutes in stormed Crystal and Chu-Chu.......C an CC were Bruce's right arms.....both were unattractive rather mannish looking women .........Chu Chu, a little tank of a Polynesian woman....5 foot nothing and 170 lbs...had a slight hint of an upper lip moustache.......... while Crystal was tall...more of the Praying Mantis type....both, very scary.........In they marched.....planting themselves right at Harry's doorstep......about 10 feet from where I sat.......
" Write the cheque Harry" Chu Chu shrieked...." Write the goddamn cheque...!" ....Harry....all of a sudden unusually alert, rose to his feet....." I will not write the cheque without Sam's consent...and he's not here...!"
Crystal spoke...." Harry if you don't write the fucking cheque...Bruce is going to come down here....and let me tell you...you don't want Bruce here...now do you Harry?"........
"Screw him and the horse he rode in on..!"....this came from Harry....? Harry had never said anything unkind or even out loud......Harry was Clarke Kent...only older......the phone rang again......Kim answered.....
"Chu Chu....Bruce is on the line and wants to talk to you..."....Kim passed off the handset to Chu Chu....holding it like it was covered in the Ebola virus.....
" Yup....uh huh...that's right....Harry is right here and he refuses to write the cheque.....yup...uh huh...I told him and he won't listen....Bruce...he's gone crazy.......you want to talk to him...okay....Harry!....talk to Bruce....." She passed off the receiver to Harry....
Harry was now standing in front of his office......him, Chu Chu and Crystal all jostling each other a little .....I noticed that Harry was holding his coffee mug in his left hand, his thinning grey hair slicked back and his horn rimmed glasses perched on his bird like nose......He appeared to be wearing a Letterman sweater with a big C on the pocket....he looked like an extra off of the Happy Days TV series......
He took the phone from Chu Chu with a certain air of disdain....
" I will not write you a cheque......!!!" down he slammed the phone onto the receiver, knocking the whole phone out of Chu Chu's chubby little hands......
" Harry.......!! She screamed......they then started to push each other around....okay I thought....this is getting really weird.......we have a dwarf like Fijian with upper lip hair, a gangling Ichabod Crane woman and a 65 year old Richie Cunningham all pushing each other around....snarling and cussing like dogs do before a fight.......
That day...there was only 5 or 6 of us in the office at the time...Kim Blake, myself, Harry, Lenny, Denise Donlon who went onto become head of Sony Canada and CBC radio and Marty the Gay (not that there's anything wrong with that..) assistant accountant.....
In what seemed an impossibly short time I could hear someone striding up the stairs..... 3 steps at a time...the office door being flung open and Kim Blake shouted.... "Bruce is here!"...
In he strode......shit kicking cowboy boots on his feet, wearing a well worn leather jacket and sporting a number of large veins that were popping out of his forehead......So this was Bruce I thought.....hmmm...I wonder if I will get to introduce myself.......(What was I thinking...?)
He planted himself in front of Harry.....Chu Chu, Crystal and now Denise Donlon standing between the 2......Harry and Bruce...
" Write the fucking cheque you old fucking fart" Bruce bellowed......
" Go to hell..." said Harry...."I will not write the cheque to you....asshole!"....huh?...Did Harry just call Bruce an asshole...? Bruce is 25 years younger than Harry and my guess ...Bruce is a whole lot faster....what kind of senior moment was Harry having....?
Bruce bellowed back....."You're just pissed off 'cause I fired you're no good flaky son.......Rocket!!!" .... Harry's son had worked for Bruce and Bruce had fired Rocket....Rocket was a little flaky...but hey....what parent wants to hear that....?
Harry barked back...." If I was 20 years younger...I would hit you...!" and then it happened....Harry dropped his coffee mug, spilling coffee everywhere, he then reached across the 3 women in between himself and Bruce and threw a drifting right clipping Bruce on the side of the head.....
Oh shit.......I thought.....then all hell broke loose...Bruce tried to punch Harry....Denise screamed out......"Don't Bruce he's an old man!" and then all of them fell over into one big dogpile right in front of my office door.....a mass of humanity all kicking, clawing, screaming.......
Brrrring, Brrrring.....my personal office phone line rang.....this was my super secret number....I picked it up reflexively......."Hello".....
" Slab...." (my nickname at the time)...." You should be up here...its a beautiful day to ski...."...Oh fuck...Sam was calling me from the ski hill .....and he is having a great day while right in front of me his estranged business partner, his aging accountant and 3 women were all wrestling on the floor....
"Slab...! What's that noise...?'
"Um....well Bruce is here and Harry just punched him and now Bruce and Harry and Denise and Chu Chu and Crystal are ...well....fighting...."
" Get Bruce on the phone....!"
" Bruce..." I held out the receiver to writing dogpile in front of me........" Sam's on the line...."....
Bruce snatched the phone from my hand........he looked at me as if I was a bug......
Putting the receiver as tightly to his ear as humanly possible, his veins a poppin'.... he screamed and spat out his only words...." I don't care what it takes....He's out of here...!" he hands me back the phone...and storms out of the office.....I made a mental note to wash the phone receiver....
...."Sam...?' I said.....
" Slab...what happened...?" I gave Sam the 20 second synopsis...."Slab.....gather everyone together and tell them that if anyone says anything about this, they will all be fired......got it...?!"
"Yes Sam....."....I hung up.........the office was eerily quiet.......
Not long after, Harry retired........We were told he had planned this for some time........hmmmm.....
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