GOLDEN

I know it’s cliché, but when they say that the best music originated in the ‘50s and ‘60s they are dead on correct.

 Well actually, ‘they’ don’t say it, ‘we’ do.  It’s my generation that says that.  I’m that old.

But, I’m also correct.  The musicians, singers, song writers and producers who experimented with sound and talent after WWll ushered in a new era.  They pushed the envelope of never-heard-before musical innovation and opened the doors for performers like Elvis Presley, Roy Orbison and Buddy Holly to earn their rightful place in history and our hearts.  Every time I read about or watch a documentary covering those artists in their early days I’m always amazed how they all knew each other, how they toured together, they wrote songs together and admired each other’s work.  The crucible that was the birthplace of rock and roll was very small but the cultural growth that it generated was enormous.  In fact, it took over the music world.  By some lucky stroke of fate this was the generation I was born into.  I was there when it happened. 

Well, actually, I was a little late to the party.  I was born in the mid ‘50s and probably didn’t pay much attention to the music scene for a decade or so.  There is no doubt that I owe my introduction into that world to my sister’s record collection (LPs and 45s) and of course, the fine-honed talent of knowing how to weight the needle arm on the turntable with a penny to keep it from skipping. 

That, and The Ed Sullivan Show on Sunday nights.   

Old Ed prided himself of presenting “A really big show!”   He was the one who gave Elvis tv time – but would only allow him to be filmed from the waist up.  Elvis was too provocative for a full screen, but too good not to have him on the show.  Huge controversy back in the day and a night to remember.  Probably massive ratings numbers too, come to think of it.  

There was also the night Nancy Sinatra performed These Boots Were Made For Walking, and the night The Beach Boys played Good Vibrations (I was home alone that night and nearly blew the speakers on our poor, old tv set).  And, how about the night The Beatles preformed She Loves You, Yeah Yeah Yeah. with teenaged girls swooning and fainting all over the place? 

There was one other of his shows that sticks in my memory.  Sometime in the ‘70s there was an act on that speculated what music would sound like in the 21^st Century.  Being in the middle of this musical revolution and loving it all, I recall being intrigued with this offered glimpse into the future … until they played what they envisioned.  Instead of the warmth of guitars, drums, and pianos there were machine-generated synthetic noises, no vocals, and no drum beat to tie it all together.  I was appalled.  I realize that this shows me to be a cranky old coot at a very young age, but how dare they degrade my music into something so awful?  I was pre-old.

Thank goodness for Sirius XM with their channels sorted by decade.  I can choose whether I want the birth of rock and roll, it’s adolescent Hippie years, or a mix of soft rock or ‘80s country music that it matured into.

But as good it is to have my favourite music on demand, there is absolutely no substitute for a live, in-person show.  Sharing the experience with a crowd is electric, the instrument-playing talents of the musicians always blows me away, and the power of the music stirs my soul.  The opportunity for live music is rare but still possible: two of my ‘also old’ besties (sorry girls) attended “Walk Right Back” a tribute to the Everly Brothers in Regina this weekend.  It was so worth the ticket price, the long drive home, and even having to explain to our waiter at supper who the Everly Brothers were (we gave up and told him to ask his grandmother).  The show was a step back in time to the pure sound of rock and roll’s childhood.  The evening was golden.

To make it even more special I happened to run into friends I hadn’t seen in ages.  No surprise that they would be drawn to this concert – they’ve been playing music all their lives and live right in Regina.  They said they were spending their retirement playing music at seniors homes now and were busier than they had ever been playing some of the very songs we were hearing at the show.  This was the music that made seniors happy.

On the one hand that gives me pause … playing rock and roll to old people?  It seems to upset my space/time continuum.

On the other hand, old people are much younger than they used to be, so I guess it’s okay. 

Maybe it’s a new way to explain “The Golden Years”.

 

 

DAYS OF WINE AND HUMMINGBIRDS

When you’re retired every day is wide open.  Every morning is a fresh new decision on what to do with your time. 

Gone are the solid, regimented, industrious days of gainful employment.  No longer am I safe within the boundaries of a prescribed schedule, meeting deadlines and commitments for a paycheck, working for ‘the man’. 

Ah! Those were the days!  It’s so much easier now that my main reason for being is to decide what to make for supper.

I wonder, how does one retire from making supper?  (asking for a friend)

But I’ll leave that quandary for another day.

Meanwhile, back here in the middle of March, my decision-making processes must be applied to what to do with today’s sunshine.  We all know about March’s lion and lamb.  We also know how untrustworthy this is.  Sure, we began with a lamb but what does that prove?  It’s just something to talk about while dithering about whether if it’s safe to exchange winter snow boots for spring rubber boots yet.  Like, how many times do you really want to haul them up and down the basement stairs until Mother Nature tires of her game? 

What’s that you say?  Just leave them all spread all over the porch floor until Easter, just in case?  With the boot dryer plugged in at the ready?  Besides, the resulting chaos is great cover for the inch deep layer of mud all over the floor.  Win/win, for sure.  I’ll do it!  That will take care of the porch until the end of April.

What about the rest of the house?  While I’m pondering my next move I pick up my vacuum cleaner hose to hunt down the morning’s collection of little stripey flies and fugitive maple bugs.  Their Zombie Awakening is one of the clearest indications of spring so far as they stumble out of their winter hidey holes to test my insect hunting skills.  They will disappear about the time mosquitoes begin the show up.

My insect hunt has taken me to my windows.  They were so clean last fall; they are so not clean now.  I am not prepared to do anything about this today, but hey … my window policeman isn’t home this afternoon … an hour or so of fresh air couldn’t hurt anything …  

And the fresh window air will nicely complement the freshly aired bedding I washed and hung out on the line this morning.  That was one of my very first decisions today; bedtime is going to smell like heaven tonight.

As always I have a list of things I need to do – I better confess to the jobs I am avoiding:

·         Dog poop patrol … for the obvious reasons.  There’s fresh snow on it at the moment thank goodness!

·         Take down the last of the Christmas decorations and put them away.  Some of them are still frozen in the ground so, awe gee, can’t do anything about that!

So I find myself back on my deck, surveying my kingdom.  This is where all my best decisions are made … like what flowers to plant this year, where to put them, and who to share them with.  It just doesn’t get any better than this.

I have marigolds and zinnias already sprouted, dahlias to bring out of cold storage, and over 100 tulips and daffodils ready to make spring 2025 special.  The Internet promises me that hummingbirds have already started North.  What more could I ask for?

Oh yeah, that making supper forever until I die thing …

 

 

I’M PLANTING SOME FLOWERS

There is a meme that surfaces on Facebook occasionally that I feel is particularly, poignantly perfect for the times we find ourselves in this spring.

There are multiple versions of this meme but they all have two people talking.  One asks “Aren’t you worried about what the future will bring?” and the other replies “I think it will bring flowers.” to which the first person responds “Oh really, why is that?”

 “Because I am planting flowers.”

In his farewell address in 1989 President Ronald Regan spoke of the United States of America as “A tall, proud, shining city built on rocks, stronger than oceans, windswept, God-blessed, and teeming with people of all kinds living in harmony and peace; a city with free ports that hummed with commerce and creativity.” His words being inspired from a bible verse Matthew 5:14.

These are lofty words but they came at a time in history where the men and women whose leadership got us through WW11 and who realized that peace isn’t just the absence of war but rather ‘the presence of justice, of law, of order – in short, of government’ and had put into place NATO and The United Nations to ensure the safety and freedom that we in the western world have taken for granted for 80 years.  It hasn’t always been perfect but it beat the heck out of what is happening now.  We watch in horror as all of Regan’s high ideals crumple like a house of cards at the hands of a man who wants to make it into the history books.  No doubt he will – if anyone is left to print or read them.

But, enough about that.  Sorry about being so dark.  Let me get back to planting flowers.

We are days away (again) from Trump’s threats of tariffs.  Will his fear of crashing the stock market make him back off again?  Who knows?  Is it really the tariffs he wants, or the turmoil and uncertainty that he likes most?  Regardless, we have to prepare for … well, we don’t really know, do we?  How will this affect our lives?  How deep with the economic pain go?  We will hurt, but the experts say so will the Americans.  How this affects regular people, no matter which side of the border they are on concerns him not at all.

At his first threat we Canadians felt powerless, but then someone came up with some ‘flower seeds’ to plant.  His tariffs are all about money, it’s the only thing he is interested in … so let us speak in the only language he understands – dollars.

His threat of tariffs and the insult of making us his 51^st state has galvanized Canadians into the most thorough anti-American shoppers ever to wield a shopping cart.  It’s so ironic that in past Free Trade negotiations it was the USA who insisted on country-of-origin labeling; now the very thing that is making identifying what we don’t want to buy so much easier.  Not that it’s all straight forward, ‘Made in Canada’ is not the same thing as ‘product of Canada’ but there are websites and Facebook pages set up to help you understand what you are buying and advice on where to find what you need.  Don’t think for a moment that you can’t make a difference, those big companies watch their market share and down is not a direction they want to see.  Canadians are known for our ‘nice-ness’ but read the history books – we are not to be messed with.

The world order tipped yesterday, spilling out the security we have enjoyed for so long and allowed evil and greed for power to seep in.  All is not lost, there are still good people in the right places to make a difference, but as we head into this year there is lots to worry about.

Personally, I’m going to plant flowers.  It won’t change the big picture, but at least there will be flowers.