The Royal Visit

I finally had the honour and privilege of meeting renowned #fridayflasher Cathy Olliffe Webster and her much publicized hubby Dave. I noted to him that there are probably more photos of him on the Internet than anyone else in the world, aside from Barack Obama. He disagreed, insisting that Lindsay Lohan and David Hasselhoff had more face-time than he. I had to concede the point.

I booked the day off Friday and drove them in a stretch limo my Dodge Caravan to the more popular places in the St. John's area: Cape Spear, Petty Harbour, Bay Bulls, Portugal Cove and Laurita Miller's place (yes, that Laurita Miller of Brain Droppings fame). For the 1st of October it was damn hot and humid here and my van was very toasty. And the A/C wasn't working. I normally would have driven about town wearing only my fez and a thong, but since it was my first time meeting the Websters I didn't want to give them a bad impression of Newfoundlanders. My fashion decorum was rewarded as Cathy & Dave presented Laurita and myself each with some lovely Lindgren pottery: A bowl and plate that were replicas of part of the dinnerware used at the G8 summit at the Deerhurst Resort in Huntsville this past summer. That was very sweet of them, V and I really love the pieces.

That evening, the Websters and Laurita (thanks, Laurita, for bringing along the spiced, red wine and the loaf of soda bread...they were great!) came to our place for a BBQ to help celebrate Cathy and Dave's wedding that had taken place six days earlier. We also invited Charles and Camilla but they graciously declined because of another engagement in India. Dinner was followed by cheesecake and writing gossip (wouldn't you #fridayflash folks like to have been a bug on the wall for that conversation).

For me, the cheesecake is always the highlight of any civilized gathering (sorry Cathy & Dave...you're nice folks 'n all, but you don't outrank the chocolate cheesecake with amaretto). I am only allowed the delicacy once a year, on my birthday, as it's loaded with stuff that's bad for me and it costs so f&%$ing much to make. This one was pretty much same as the cheesecake we usually take to the annual cheesecake party. For those really obsessed with cheesecake, you can link to that blog post here. Sometimes I fantasize about cheesecake...a darkened room, soft music, candles and a plastic sheet on the bed with me alone frolicking with my favourite cheesecake...er, sorry, digressed there for a moment. Did I really say that? Apologies, only meant to think it.

*Coughs*

But enough about me. The highlight of the weekend was the time spent with Cathy, Dave and Laurita on Friday. It was fantastic and I'll remember it for a long time. I'll post a few photos below, but you can link to a much better account of the day, and nicer photos, at Cathy's blog Life on the Muskoka River.

On a side note. I'm sure that at least one reader will be interested to know the outcome of the recent accidental husband-bear shooting incident court case that has been ongoing here in Newfoundland for almost three weeks now. The judge passed a verdict of 'not guilty' on the charge of criminal negligence causing death in the 2006 shooting of the Pennsylvania man. Justice LeBlanc noted that the Crown did not prove its case beyond a reasonable doubt. You can link to the full CBC article here.

Cathy Webster at Cape Spear. Looking up the hillside, wondering why there are two light houses...


Dave returning from taking photos near water's edge (I caught Cathy glancing over their life insurance policy...specifically the 'rogue wave, sweeping loved-one to sea' clause).

No. Cathy hasn't had too much to drink. She is trying to line up Dave for a photo with a ship beyond so that it appears that it's sitting on his head. Nice.

Dave, just fussing lovingly with Cathy's hair. In the top right corner you can just make out 'the narrows'...the entrance to St. John's harbour.

Laurita, Cathy and myself. This is my favourite picture. I have my arms about two lovely women, so I can't explain why I'm not smiling. Perhaps I was thinking about cheesecake...

Land's Edge Contest- Hon. Mention-Cathy Olliffe

What could I possibly say about Cathy Olliffe that most of you don't know already? Cathy visits every one's blog and is friends with all! Heck, my circle of friends has increased drastically just by association with her. Cathy's blog is a medium for her regular flash fiction with the #fridayflash crowd. It's also a perfectly framed window to get a fine view of Life on the Muskoka River. Many of you will recall her recent showcase of writers during American Weeks at her blog. Drop by again for a visit. God knows what will happen next!

Cathy writes in an with an 'earthy' flair and tells tales about regular folk thrust, sometimes, into unusual situations. Her entry in the Land's Edge flash fiction contest was no exception. The Blue Swimsuit is a story about a man's memories of a little girl he met years ago at a popular Ontario beach. Let's take a short walk through this man's thoughts. This timeless story is set in 1966, but it could just as well be 2010. Heck, the beach may be just down the road from you.

Note: The painting is Life's a Beach Ball by Allison Hunt and can be found at the Pink Picasso website.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The Blue Swimsuit

The Polaroid is like a home movie frozen on one frame in the projector.
Faded almost to white.
Even her navy blue swimsuit is faded. But you can still tell it's blue.
Her light brown hair, caught up in a strong breeze, shining in the midday sun, is lighter. But you can still tell it's brown.
Her smile is enormous. Beatific. Contagious. And she's got these crazy sunglasses on, perfectly round, clamshell pink.
He fingers the edges of the photograph. The date is handwritten on the bottom.
July 14, 1966.
A perfect summer day.
He remembers seeing Cheryl for the first time.
He is at Wasaga Beach, stretched out on a towel, a bottle of Pepsi and a John D. MacDonald paperback lying in the sand beside him, a camera in his hand. He ignores the hundreds of bright young women who walk by him in their best bathing suits, a parade of taut, tanned skin and sprayed curls, stepping lightly to impress the hundreds of young men who gawk openly as they go by.
He barely notices them.
But he sees Cheryl.
She is running pell mell down the beach, sand flying up from her feet in every direction. She is chasing a plastic beach ball, coloured like gas station flags, and she is squealing because some other kid is in hot pursuit. Likely a brother. He watches. The kid chases her for a bit, to make her happy, then dekes out and goes to where a bunch of girls are hanging out at the hamburger stand.
Cheryl takes the ball over to a young couple who might be her parents and tries to get their attention but they're talking to another couple, laughing and drinking Labatt's 50. They scold her for interrupting, then shoo her away.
Unconcerned, she picks up an orange pail with a white plastic shovel, and starts wandering down the beach.
He watches her meander further away from her parents. Nobody but him is paying attention.
He gets up from the towel and walks towards her.
When he's close enough he begins to take pictures.
He smiles as the shutter clicks.
She is so happy.
So alive.
So doomed.
Soon she will be a headline in newspapers across the country. "CHERYL THOMPSON, 6, MISSING" will be replaced after a week by "BODY PARTS FOUND IN GEORGIAN BAY" and finally "TRAIL GOES COLD IN SEARCH FOR CHILD KILLER."
For a few minutes more she is still a little girl playing in the sand on a pristine summer day.
He walks up beside her and gets down on one knee, like he is proposing.
He is blocking her sun so she looks up.
"Hey mister," she says.

American Week Farewell *sniff*

Cathy Olliffe is in the homestretch of her American Weeks and her interview with Lou Freshwater is up today, followed by Lou's story 'Lucille.' I highly recommend you check the story out...walk in her shows for a mile or two. Tony Noland is the final feature tonight and I'm looking forward to it.

I am awe-struck at the work Cathy has put into this project the past couple of weeks. Longer, actually. I can't imagine how much research she did with each person to assemble such fine interviews weaving fun, fact and fiction. Many of them were nothing short of brilliant. I'm sure that I'm not the only one thinking she should be working for a big newspaper, putting together features of people for a living. It's also evident she spent a lot of time putting together some very creative photo shop images of the featured writers. She was so busy, in fact, that she had little time to enjoy her hobby: splitting wood. Some of the featured writers follow this blog, so I'm sort of 'preaching to the converted', but if you don't follow the #Fridayflash crowd, check out Cathy's interviews and the presented stories from these fine American writers, essayists, poets, humourists, artists...

It's a bit sad to see the features end as I was having so much fun getting to know some of the writers better through their stories and interviews. I am happy, though, to have learned more about people who's work I have only recently started to follow and to have met a few new friends. Umm...there were a couple of comments on my last post regarding my fez so I decided to unearth a certain photo of me for your amusement and to tip my hat in honour of Cathy's interviews (well...I'm not really tipping it, but you get the idea). I'm sure there's a couple of you disappointed to see that I am wearing more than a clear rain-slicker. And chaps.

Here is a link to Cathy Olliffe's blog Life on the Muskoka River. You can scroll back to late May on her site to catch all of the featured American writers. I have listed them below and you can also link to their blogs by clicking on their names.

Micheal J. Solender~ not from here, are you?

Shannon Esposito~ Murder in Paradise

Eric J. Krause~ Eric J. Krause's Writing Spot

Carrie Clevenger~ Mindspeak

Mark Kerstetter~ The Bricoleur

Peggy McFarland~ Eldritch Way

Anthony Venutolo~ Bukowski's Basement

CJ Hodges-MacFarlane~ Mostly Other Things

John Wiswell~ The Bathroom Monologues

Lou Freshwater~ Baby's Black Balloon

Tony Noland~ Landless

Memorial Day Goodness

Happy Memorial Day to all of my US friends.

I would like to redirect you to three blogs in particular that honour and celebrate Memorial Day. Anthony Venutolo at Bukowski's Basement and Michele Emrath at Southern City Mysteries both present excellent tributes to fallen soldiers of the past.

Cathy Olliffe at Life on the Muskoka River is celebrating Memorial Day (Yes, even though she's Canadian) with the kick-off of her 'All-American' weeks featuring a number of US writers. Rumour has it she has a shocking and bizarre photo posted with her opening feature. Guaranteed you won't want to miss that...

Please take a moment to check out these talented writers and bloggers. Especially if you are American. Remember...Uncle AlanSam wants you!

Mysterious Creature?

I present a link to this story because I always strive to give everyone fodder for future horror stories. Don't say I never give ya anything...

The Vancouver Sun is only one of many publications that ran a story the past few weeks about a furry 'gargoyle-like' creature dragged ashore from a northern Ontario lake by a dog. This occurred on the First Nations Kitchenuhmaykoosib Inninuwug reserve, located much closer to Hudson Bay than to Thunder Bay. For those of you unfamiliar with Ontario geography that's waaaayyyy up north.

Commentors on the article speculate the creature is a decomposed otter or perhaps a marten or fisher. The Kitchenuhmaykoosib website notes that "No one knows what it is, but our ancestors used to call it the Ugly One...Rarely seen, but when seen, it's a bad omen. Something bad will happen, according to our ancestors."

We used to have a small fish pond in our last house in Ontario. One day I found an odd creature floating in the water. It appeared to be a bloated squirrel with the fur mostly skinned from it's body. Needless to say, it didn't look very squirrelish any more....and I certainly didn't want to delve into why it was missing it's fur...

I don't know if the creature was sent off for testing by biologists or veterinarians or whatever, but something inside me says that some mysteries are best left vague and murky. Perhaps the story should be tucked away in the Loch Ness or Sasquatch files.

Speaking of mysterious and the nether-regions of Ontario...I have heard from a reliable source that the enthusiastic and talented Cathy Olliffe will be starting her 'American week' tomorrow at Life on the Muskoka River. I must admit that I figured that she wouldn't get enough Americans submitting stories. I even submitted an essay for her to use during the week but was turned down flat. I'll stop now before I begin to sound bitter [sulks silently in corner...]

However, the same un-named yet moderately reliable source noted that Ms. Olliffe will kick off her American week with a special guest. I shall be breaking out the Bud (it's a long weekend down there, right?) and wrapping myself up in the 'stars and stripes' for the duration of the week. Drop in to her blog for a little bit of Americana...I know I will.

And speaking of big events...I am still seeking submissions to the Land's Edge flash fiction contest. Entries must be submitted by Sunday, June 20th (yes, this year!). Click on the link for all the facts.

Referral and Remembrance

I would like to link you in the direction of Michael J. Solender's blog Not From Here, Are You? There you will find my mild rant humourous/serious essay entitled 'Canada and America: The Great Divide'. Also at the NOT you will find Cathy Olliffe's fanciful tale 'The Power and the Glory'. The photo of her in her Canada-esque spring attire is very nice too...please check out the stories, an 'All Canadian Week' duet you won't want to miss.

On a more serious tone...I've never dedicated anything to anyone before, but I'd like to dedicate the Canada/America essay to an old co-worker back in Ontario. I received word yesterday afternoon that he had passed away 2 weeks ago. RW and I had worked together for about 14 years until he was forced to retire due to health reasons. That story seems appropriate as his mother's family were Quakers who moved to the Kitchener area from Pennsylvania in the 1800's. His father's side were English royalists and he was a proud Canadian who lived life on his own terms, even to the detriment of his health. RW had no family: his parents were long dead, his brother, who did not have children, had passed away last year. He had never married or had children either and died alone. I felt compelled to mention him today. He won't be forgotten.

Posts of Others: Insightful, Thought-Provoking

This morning I think that I will steal from link to posts on the blogs of others. A couple of blogs yesterday caught my eye as they dealt with different topics that, in an odd way, are connected to one another. Both are from my growing 'circle of writing friends.' If you are not familiar with these folks, please take the time to drop by their blogs and read their schtuff.

I will first send you to Aaron Polson's blog post from yesterday: "Why I'll Never Make a Living as a Writer." Mr. Polson, educator and molder of young minds, explores the state of short fiction and the state of 'popular art' in general. His post is fueled by a recent comment on Robert Swartwoods's blog that basically said "...if you want people to read what you write, then you have to write what people want to read..." An interesting post, and interesting comments on the 'fluff vs. art' issue.

My next referral is to Cathy Olliffe's post yesterday on her blog Life on the Muskoka River. She posts about Hugh Garner, whom she describes as Canadian 'literary bad-boy' of the 1950's and 60's. He often wrote of the mean streets of Toronto, from his working-class roots, and managed to eek out a living as a full-time writer.

Check out her link to Historical Perspectives on Canadian Publishing that describes Garner as...an outspoken social critic and self proclaimed “one man trade union,” Garner was not afraid to argue with his agents, publishers, and editors in order to control the content of his writing, ensure that his books were properly displayed in retail outlets, and to squeeze as much income as he could from his published works.

Hugh Garner is one of Cathy's literary heroes. After reading her post and the link I can understand why. He managed to 'out-tough' a tough business and stay in control of his writing. I wonder how he would have managed in this wondrous age of Internet publishing.