Friday, April 30, 2010
Anyway, the then-current owner of the company, who went on to own, and then sell, The Ottawa Senators ice hockey team, promised all employees he would keep us informed as to the selling of the company he was trying to unload. He kept his promise. Hoo boy, did he ever! With every bi-weekly pay stub, there would be another update. The update ran along the lines of, "I have nothing to report this week". This went on for months, until someone quipped, "SHL Update #427. Frig you. The company hasn't been sold yet. Go ahead and borrow the keys to my Jag and take my daughter out on the town".
I feel a little like that now, except that I have no children and will never be ok'd for financing a Jaguar, and don't know if they even still make them. The person I've been visiting every day this week, multiple times, is still with us. There have been some small changes in his condition. Some are good. Most are not. The bad ones will get worse; and the good ones will become fewer and further between, probably sooner rather than later, until they reach their denouement.
This person means an awful lot to me, and is very close to me. I want to be with him during this final journey, until our ways must part, and he has to continue on the path by himself, as we all do when our time comes.
It just hurts so much.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Doesn't make it any easier to accept, though.
via his BlackBerry
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
I need a laugh, a chuckle, a guffaw. Who else to provide it than... William Shatner? This is a man who, for the 10 years after the original Star Trek was canceled, took on any and all acting jobs offered to him. While I admire his work ethic, it is hard to overlook some of the gigs he accepted. And, he always tried so hard, with that stilted delivery of his, to make each role his own.
Here's a prime example: From the 1978 Science Fiction Film Awards, Mr. Shatner's unique... interpretation of "Rocket Man".
I love how it's introduced. Bernie Taupin was probably wondering why the Hell he was there.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
There is no stopping this man, Mark Dooley.
For reasons that will become clear in a day or two, maybe three, Mark’s current storyline is resonating with me in powerful ways. He had no way of knowing this, of course; but I deeply appreciate the work Mark is producing, both in the past, and especially now. “The Letter” has been comforting to me during this difficult time, one which is about to become more difficult.
Enjoy Part Twelve, everybody!
Monday, April 26, 2010
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Been getting some disturbing, troubling news I am not prepared to discuss yet. I hope it turns out to be better than what I fear it might be. It's times like these when I have to man up, to accept that nothing lasts forever, and that the time for saying goodbye may be drawing nigh.
But it's just so Goddamned hard.
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Herewith: The latest two chapters from The Letter, which I am enjoying even more than Star Trekkin'.
Keep it up, Mark.
And, while we're at it, why not an interview for Bevboy's Blog?
Visited Dad this afternoon for a while. He is doing better.
Returned to the city late this afternoon. Fed Newbie. Crashed on my bed and slept for 4 hours.
Tomorrow it's laundry time here. I had to wear my salmon-coloured shirt to work on Thursday, which is always a sure sign that the clean clothes level is getting low.
Friday, April 23, 2010
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
My thanks to blog reader Kevin for showing me this link.
There are plenty of commercials that run locally and are never seen outside of their chosen market. Nova Scotia is no exception. The following are actual commercials from 1987 that ran around here. I actually remember many of them.
Nice to see Ron Zima again. He still looks pretty much the same, too!
Now, let’s get some commercials from the 1970’s!
The man. The machine. The artist. Mark Dooley.
Here’s part eight of The Letter, his latest magnum opus.
I have mentioned this before, but it bears repeating. I know that Mark is a Christian. I have no problem with people being religious. We all have a right to whatever our belief system happens to be. But there are plenty of people who are so strident in their beliefs, so pig-headed and intolerant in expressing them and even accepting, for the purposes of argument, that there might be “another way”, that they give all proponents of that religion a bad name.
It is no fun to read or experience these apoplectic screeds that emanate from these people. I’m FB friends with a couple of them, and their constant Bible references are annoying to read, and are a textbook example of preaching to the choir. You’ve read the Bible from cover to cover 100 times. I get that. Good for you. Was it in lieu of having a job or living a good life? And, what have you learned from it, and how does it inform your life?
Mark Dooley, on the other hand, takes a gentle approach to his beliefs. Dee wears a cross around her neck, but doesn’t draw your attention to it. Mark and Dee both discuss prayer. Nobody uses any kind of foul language. The storylines are gentle but have a Christian subtext that cannot be denied or ignored.
I just love this guy. Mark Dooley is my hero.
Keep up the great work, Mark. Keep ‘em coming!
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Spent a quiet evening at home, not washing my dishes. I did think about it, though. Does that count?
I transcribed a couple of the audio files in the interview I conducted 2 weeks ago. It is taking longer than I had anticipated. I had thought I could do more work on the audio files this past weekend, but became busier dealing with my dad than I thought I would be. Silly, naive me.
I live such a fascinating life. Even my troll friend doesn't write much anymore. I miss the little, mentally-challenged fella. I can just imagine him pounding away at his special little keyboard, looking up every other word on one of my blog posts, trying really, really hard to understand what I'm writing. He doesn't succeed, of course. He's just too stupid, BUT IT'S NOT HIS FAULT, PEOPLE. He can't help it. Let's feel sorry for him, this poor, illiterate, lonely, pathetic little man.
I know! Let's have a telethon for my troll, raise some money for him so that he can replace his 486-based computer and get a Pentium or something. That would be so nice if we did that.
Let's make this happen.
Monday, April 19, 2010
And, let me welcome my father to his new home, the local Shannex long-term care facility.
I was down in the Valley all weekend to help prepare the family for the move. By no means did I do all the work, or even a majority. I guess i did my part, my share. It was all a team effort.
I can now reveal why I got home so late last Wednesday evening. I had my usual TM meeting. After that, the club president wanted to have an executive meeting. After that, nearly 8pm, I walked as fast as I could to my car and drove to a local apartment building to pick up a small television for my old bedroom, $10, including a remote. From there, I drove to another apartment building on the other side of town to pick up a tv, vcr, and dvd player for my father's new room. Got 'em all for one very low price. This all resulted in getting home very late.
Spent the weekend down in the Valley and this morning Dad was transferred to his new home at the facility. He's pretty tuckered out, but we are confident that he will really fluorish in his new home.
I'll go down and visit him and my mother this weekend. After that, I will likely not be home for a few weeks. Life beckons here in the city and at the cottage, too. Life goes on.
It has to.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Tomorrow will be an extremely important day in the life of a family member.
It has to work for this person.
It just has to.
From Bevboy's BlackBerry to BevBoy's Blog!
Saturday, April 17, 2010
My mother required a new watch battery on Friday. Rather than drive into New Minas and deal with the crowds therein, I decided to go into Kentville and the jewellery store there.
Sure am glad I did. I chatted with the lady in there for a few minutes about the stores in Kentville that are no longer there. I learned there is a new baker/deli coming to the town. After a moment or three, she called out, "Bev, can you come here for a moment?" And...
a guy came out of the office in answer to her!
I met another guy named Bev last night!! Holy frig, this very seldom happens. He is a bit older than I am, but has apparently lived in the area for nearly all of his life. He looked me in the eye at one point and asked, "Bev, do you hate being called 'Beverly' as much as I do?" "At least as much as you do!", I replied.
We chatted for a bit. I gave him a Bevboy's Blog business card. He promised too check out the blog. And we parted our ways.
There aren't too many guys named Bev out there. There should be a heckuva a lot more of us, as it was originally a man's name before women usurped it. So, it's always a treat to meet a fellow fellow named Bev.
Just don't call him Beverly.
Friday, April 16, 2010
I was supposed to conduct my latest interview this morning at 11, but one of them was sick with the flu, so we will re-schedule. Too bad, but how much would the guy have wanted to talk to me if he had to take periodic breaks to ralph?
Up in the Valley for a weekend. Fish cakes for supper that my mother made. Free wi fi here at the hairdresser's; I really must thank the Brent who left his network open for me to hop onto. Life is good. Mom is getting her hair done now; in a few minutes it will be my turn.
Well, pretty good.
It could be a lot worse.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Mark Dooley is a machine. He is an unstoppable juggernaut. Get out of his way, people!
Here is part 7 of The Letter.
He thanks Tony Isabella for helping him write this edition. Tony indirectly inspired the creation of Bevboy’s Blog, as long-timers readers will recall.
Keep up the great work, Mark!!
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Whenever I need to buy something and don't want to spend much money, which is most of the time, I look on the Halifax kijiji site. Chances are, I can find 20 or 30 of them, most of them within an easy driving distance from my work or home.
Just today, I wanted to get a small television for my old bedroom at my parents' place. I looked on kijiji for the size of television that I wanted. I decided on getting one for ten bucks. Came with a remote and rabbit ears, should I decide not to go with cable down the road.
Yeah, yeah. I know. Everything's about high def these days. But, this is just a cheap ass tv I wanted to watch from time to time. Somehow, laying out a few hundred dollars for a tv that I will only use the odd time seems silly to me.
Got home late tonight after picking up the tv in the south end of the city. Newbie met me at the door, very hungry, as Patricia is opening up the cottage for a few days. He scarfed his dinner, just like I did mine, once I had had a chance to prepare it.
Found an interesting cassette tape the other week. It is of a radio show broadcast in the late 1990's by the late Terry Thomas at Annapolis Valley Radio. I hope the tape still plays! I will find out tomorrow night and try to digitize it. Terry is long in his grave, and the radio show was canceled in 1999, when the station wanted to save a few bucks. Who knows how many editions of his old sho even exist? I'll let you know how my digitization process works out for me.
Have a good one, my friends.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
More amazing work from the pen (or, what does he use? hmm?) of Mark Dooley.
Keep it up, my friend. I’m so thrilled to be his official Canadian provider of his excellent work.
I’m off to the gym, like I really wanna go that is.
Monday, April 12, 2010
My friend Mark Dooley was a busy guy over the weekend. No fewer than 4 editions of his latest magnum opus were completed. Me, I visited my folks and ranted about a crappy restaurant experience (and have been getting a lot of blog traffic because of it!)
Mark, keep up the great work!
Sunday, April 11, 2010
If someone asks you to have lunch at the Elephant and Castle in downtown Halifax, say no. Be emphatic about it. Don’t go. Just don’t.
Let me tell you about my recent, and last, experience there.
This past Friday, the boys asked me to go to lunch with them. It is a thrill for them, you see, and I wouldn’t want to deprive them of it. They had decided at the Elephant and Castle. I tagged along.
We got there a few minutes after noon. We were taken to our table. We waited a few minutes before someone took our drink orders.
We got our drinks. The server told us what the specials were for the day. One of them was a BLT, and I decided to go for that, as you can see on the accompanying receipt. I didn’t want fries, so I asked for a caesar salad instead. No mention was made of their being a change in the cost of the item. The rest of the boys ordered their meals. My friend Steve ordered steak and chips, but opted for sweet potato fries instead of regular fries.
We chatted about the issues of the day, including sports. I participated in the sports discussion as best I could, even though they were discussing topics and sports which made no sense to me.
It was upwards of 40 minutes before we got our food. I got my BLT and salad, or should I say, half BLT. It was not a full sandwich. My friend Steve had to wait an extra few minutes before he got his food.
My sandwich was of acceptable quality, but there wasn’t enough of it. The salad was just awful. It was all lettuce with a tiny bit of cheese. No bacon bits. No croutons. Barely any dressing.
Eventually, we got our bills. Mine and Steve’s are included in this post. I nearly crapped myself. The special sandwich of the day was $11! What’s so special about that, especially in light of the fact that it was only half a sandwich? I asked the server why my sandwich had cost me so much when it was only half a sandwich. He took off to the kitchen and returned a moment later, explaining that I had received a full sandwich, but one half had been piled on top of the other, like a clubhouse.
Uh, no, it wasn’t. There were not 4 pieces of bread there, just 2. And, even then, $11 for that was still too much.
Notice, too, that I had been penalized for the sin of asking for a salad rather than fries. My friend Steve had been similarly punished for asking for sweet potato fries, as we both had had to pay an extra $2.50. His beer had cost him dearly as well. My cranberry juice, in a small glass, had set me back nearly 3 dollars.
The server explained about the sandwich but then added that he didn’t think I believed him. I didn’t say anything because I know they have bouncers and I didn’t want to get in an argument with the guy. I just wanted to get the Hell out of there. So did my friends.
We paid, and we left. Steve gave me his receipt and urged me to write a blog post about this experience, which I am just wrapping up right now.
I’ll never go back to the Elephant and Castle in downtown Halifax. You can take it to the bank (which is appropriate, as the place was a Merrill Lynch outlet for a long time). The service was slow. The food quality was poor. The prices were outrageous. Life is too short, and there are too many other good -- and much cheaper -- places to eat in that part of the city that I don’t need to darken the doors of that place, ever again.
If your work chums invite you to go to lunch with them at the Elephant and Castle, then do what your conscience dictates. But, if you do go, have a snack beforehand, make sure you have lots of extra money in your pocket or purse, and take a book with you, because you’ll have a long wait for your victuals. Or, better yet, suggest another place, like the Pogue Fado, where you’ll get better food for less money, faster.
But, I get the last laugh, don’t I? I get to tell them what I think of them in this here blog.
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Come next week if you can and help her out.
From Bevboy's BlackBerry to BevBoy's Blog!
Friday, April 9, 2010
Ordered and paid for new glasses Thursday night. Will have them in a couple of weeks.
Another long day. Up at 5:30. It is midnight-ish and I'm toddling off to bed now.
Ciao for now.
From Bevboy's BlackBerry to BevBoy's Blog!
Thursday, April 8, 2010
It was… 1985, I think, when seatbelt use became mandatory in Nova Scotia. I remember it well. I had always worn seatbelts anyway; I didn’t need any law to tell me to belt up before getting behind the wheel of my 1982 Plymouth Horizon.
I still remember the letters to the editor of the local paper, even a couple of years after the law was enacted. Fools would write in and claim that they could steel themselves in the event of an accident. They could brace themselves in such a way that they would not have to wear a seatbelt. They would not become projectiles catapulted through the windshield and flying face first into the telephone pole the car had just crashed into. Bunch of human crash test dummies. Anyone with even a passing knowledge of the laws of physics would know that the amount of force, of inertia, the materials in the car, would make it impossible to remain seated during a car crash. Im-possible.
The following is the most amazing public service announcement for wearing seatbelts that I have ever seen, or ever will see. My thanks to Steve Vernon for bringing it to my attention.
More later, if you're nice to me.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
That, with the duplicate post 1083, more-or-less corrected itself.
Except that the summary still tells me that I only have 1186 posts, but if I list all of the posts, it says I have 1188. Is there perhaps a bug in blogger somewhere?
A bit more digging is required.
It appears that I have miscounted a couple of Bevboy's Blog posts.
I have assiduously tried to keep score of each and every post, starting the numbering with the first post back in the fall of 2007. This, in theory, is the 1187th post.
The account tells me that there are only 1186 posts.
And, knocking myself out just now, I see that there is a duplicate post. There are two posts labelled 1083. Of course, one of them should be the 1184th post. Do you see why I'm getting confused?
I can do a few things to fix this. For one, I can stop numbering these posts entirely. I don't really want to do that as it makes this blog unique, and in theory it is easier to find any given blog post. "Bev, what did you mean when you wrote this in post 999?" makes it easy for me to find that post, and re-read the confusing piece and answer the person's question. Not that it has ever happened, of course.
I can blithely ignore this "problem", and even keep the duplicate post 1083. I am only off by one, or maybe two, which is pretty good.
I can call this post 1187, and the next 1188, and just continue going forward, perhaps having a "half post", which would be like "Post 1187.5". I have a couple of "half posts" going way back to around post 100. Go back and read 'em if you want to. They're about radio, natch.
My question, not that you particularly care: What is your suggestion to fix this possible miscount? If blogger tells me I have 1186 posts, then that should be the number of the most recent post. Or am I getting so darned anal here that I should perhaps let it all go, before I lose my mind?
Get back to me with your thoughts. Leave a comment to this post and I'll consider every comment or suggestion you guys leave.
I got up. Came here. Worked. Started transcribing the interview I conducted on Monday. Am presently killing a bit of time before I go to this week's Toastmasters meeting.
Oh, I know what happened. Through freecycle, I corralled back issues of Oprah, Canadian Living, and Saltscapes magazines. Patricia picked them up this morning. I figured it might be a grocery bag or something full of them. Nope! It was 2 huge bags full, a Rona bag and another bag from another big box store. She could barely lug them to her car, which settled noticeably under the new weight of the mags.
Just now, I posted a "wanted" ad on freecyle, asking if anyone had back issues of Cottage Life or any other cottage-related magazine, to read at the, um, cottage this summer.
Yeah. The life I lead. Exciting times, huh?
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
I still have a fabulously full head of hair. Nearly every day at work, a couple of women cannot resist running their fingers through my locks. I have grown used to this degrading ordeal. I figure it is a reflexive action on their part. Perhaps their husbands are not as hirsute as I am. Whatever the reason is, they can't help it. I forgive them. It is what it is.
But, while Mother Nature has blessed me with this incredible hair, she has robbed me of perfect eyesight. I have had to wear glasses since I was 6 years old. I was told by one optometrist back in my university days that I did not need to wear glasses, so for a year or so I suffered through being unable to make out the writing on the boards during classes. I reluctantly went back to wearing spectacles and have accepted that I will never be free of them.
I had my most recent eye exam this morning. My distance vision has not changed in the last 4 years. My up close vision, which I use for reading of course, has become significantly worse, and the doc has recommended I go with progressive lenses, or multifocals.
It is a concession to getting a bit older. Reading has been much more of a chore for me in recent months. The print has seemed so much smaller and I can't be bothered to read it unless I have to. My migraine headaches have been more frequent and acute as well; sometimes, even my beloved Zomig cannot rescue me from their grasp. I ascribe these headaches to eyestrain brought about by an out-of-date eyeglass prescription, and today's test has simply proved that to me.
I have been to Costco, just this evening, to check out prices and frames and so on. I'l probably order a new pair of specs this week and have them to wear within a couple of weeks after that. If nothing else, it will make the text on my asus netbook actually readable to me, which is kinda nice.
I may be geting a little older, but I wouldn't change this gray, fabulour hair or the laugh lines or the crappy eyesight for anything. I have earned them. They are mine. You can't have them. Get your own.
Besides, the women at work would never forgive me.
Monday, April 5, 2010
My Easter Monday was quite fun, with several hours devoted to the latest blog interview. It was conducted at the Q104 studios. I took a ton of pics (nearly 150). Shot some video. Recorded a couple of hours of audio, which I must now dutifully transcribe for y’all.
I think this may be the best interview yet. There are wonderful insights into radio, some cool behind-the-scenes stories, the tale of a Dartmouth murder from the early 1970’s, and some very emotional moments that I hope I’m allowed to keep as it shows how much the subject cares for another person and that person’s welfare. I can hardly wait to share it with you.
This evening, I was downloading the audio, the video, the pictures to this computer. I’ll start the transcribing tomorrow during my lunch hour. I hope you get to see it within the next 30-40 days. You’ll need a hankie in places, folks, so be warned.
And, next week, on the 16th, I am scheduled for another interview, back at the K-Rock studios in lovely New Minas. There will be something unique about this interview as well, and you’ll see just what that is as the time approaches.
MC should be back in town; I have to arrange an interview with her. PH has promised me. So has DC. And, JS, a comic book editor, touched base with me on my birthday to remind me that I had approached him for an interview last year. He still wants to do it, and that should start happening soon.
Lots of interviews. Clean your glasses, everyone
Have a good one.
Just over a week ago, Patricia and I drove to the Valley to visit my folks. Patricia stayed back to cook some meals for my mother whilst I purchased groceries for my mother.
This is the point where my little troll friend, the illiterate one, the one who drags one foot behind the other one, makes some kind of little dig at me. So, let’s give him a few lines to do so.
Where was I? Oh, yeah! Food. Anyway, Patricia was getting ready to peel potatoes when she discovered this one. I had to get some photos, and here’s but one of them.
All together now: Say “Awwww!”
You, too, troll! It’s only one syllable. Surely you can manage that much.
That afternoon, we moseyed our way over to Wolfville to visit a friend of mine from high school. Heidi found me on facebook a year or so ago, and it’s been a pleasure to rekindle our friendship from those halcyon days or yore. She wouldn’t date me back then, and wouldn’t date me now, even if we were both single and the survival of the species depended on it. Some things never change. Kinda comforting, that.
I have included a picture of the cat who lives at the inn in Wolfville where Heidi works. Heidi, what’s the cat’s name again? He’s a big furball, and is about 20 years old. That’s mighty old for a cat, although they have been known to live to be nearly 30. It’s possible that the inn cat will live for years and years, assuming it wants to. You know what cats are like. I’m lucky if Newbie momentarily makes eye contact with me after I feed him every day for a month. And woe betide me if I don’t feed him in the middle of the night when he gets hungry. He’ll seek retribution if I don’t. Yeah. You know what cats are like.
More in a bit, if you’re good.
Sunday, April 4, 2010
You know, just because I don't have kids (at least, any that I acknowledge), doesn't mean I don’t get to have any fun. I have not had the pleasure of changing a diaper or trying to trick a child into eat his vegetables. I still have fun despite this. Go figure.
Today, we both slept in, after our quick trip to the cottage yesterday. I did the dishes after lunch, which long-time readers will know is an enormous undertaking that requires planning and skill to bring off successfully.
After that, we decided to go for a long along the BLT Trails.
BLT does not stand for “Bacon, Lettuce and Tomato”, at least not in this context. It stands for “Beechville, Lakeside, and Timberlea”, the 3 communities that make up this extended neighbourhood of mine. Despite the number of years I have lived here, until today, I had never been out on the trails that run around my house. The more fool, me.
We left around 2pm and walked several kilometres up the trail before returning along the same path to make dinner. We met some interesting characters, including a guy who taught Patricia and me to ride his recumbent bicycle. I also ran into a guy I used to work with at another government department. He doesn’t live here or anything. Just out walking with some of his friends and we chanced upon Mitch. It reminds me of the old saw that, apparently, there’s a cafe in Paris that, if you sit outside of it long enough, and drink enough coffee, eventually everyone you know will walk by. I guess if I walk up and down the BLT trails long enough, everyone I know (all 10 of them) will walk by.
I deeply regret not having walked along these beautiful trails before today. I can’t wait to go back.
Say, anybody want to join me?
Saturday, April 3, 2010
The weather has been so good lately, so clement, so warm, that we just had to check the place out. We are glad we did. As nice as it must have been in Halifax, it is that much nicer up there. It was upwards of 20 degrees at the cottage today.
We had lunch in the town of Pictou today and afterward wandered around the town before returning to the cottage for a nap and then to clean the place up a bit. We drove back to the city around suppertime.
Driving 4+ hours i one day is not my idea of a good time, unless in between I can spend some quality cottage time. We are both hoping to be able to keep the place going until the end of November this year, just like we did last year. We hope to open the cottage formally next weekend for another record-breaking year. And, high speed internet is now an option in that part of the province, so, you know, it may become our true home away from home.
I can hardly wait.
Friday, April 2, 2010
In short, I did virtually nothing today, which will be unlike Saturday. Tomorrow will be crazy busy for both of us and I'll tell you about it tomorrow evening.
Time for bed!
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Holly Bartlett would have loved her funeral.
Hundreds of people showed up at the Atlantic Funeral Home on Main Street in Dartmouth this morning. There were so many of us there that we had to be place in the overflow room, and that room became standing room only.
There were tears, and lots of them. But there were plenty of laughs, too. Her sisters told some funny stories about Holly’s strong will, her tenacity, and her great humour. Her most recent boss at the Nova Scotia Public Service Commission mentioned how Holly would have a knack for always knowing, sensing, when someone was down and find a way to bring him or her back up, likely with an ironic comment like, “You look really nice today!”
A former co-worker named Charlie, also blind, told very amusing stories about working with Holly, like the time a cabbie picked them both up to go to a meeting in another part of the city. The cabbie saw Charlie’s dog, but assumed that Holly was sighted, and told her to hop in the back seat. She did so, but kept on going, landing on the ground, because the cabbie had opened both doors and Holly didn’t know it.
Charlie also told of how his seeing-eye dog would walk Charlie through the downtown. The dog would guide Charlie around groups of people or establish eye contact with people, getting them to move out of the way. This didn’t work one day when a woman walked right into them both. Turned out to be Holly! Sometime afterward, this happened again. Charlie said, “Holly, is that you?” Holly replied yes.
Such funny stories, punctuated by sadness and a strong sense of loss. We’ll never know what she could have accomplished, but one imagines it would have been a lot.
I cannot remember, in my 46 years, meeting a more life-loving person than Holly Bartlett. Just how busy she was during her short life, how much she was able to accomplish, has only become clear to me in the last few days. Her degrees and other academic achievements. Skydiving with my friend Kirk. Dancing. Walking the streets of downtown Halifax by herself, aided only by her cane. I hope that people remember all of those things and do not focus on some of the murky circumstances surrounding her death.
Holly would have wanted it that way.
In fact, she would have insisted on it.
P.S. Our Toastmasters meeting last night was partially about Holly, too. We had a half hour tribute to her after the guests went home. A.J., a pastor and devotee of this blog, said some beautiful things about her, and we capped it off with something that Toastmasters folk don’t do very often: We raised our glasses, in a toast, to Holly Bartlett.
P.P.S. I keep thinking of all the times I saw Holly walking around the city. I’d see her walking to Toastmasters meetings and accost her. From time to time, she’d ask if she could hold my elbow while we walked the last couple of blocks. It was always my pleasure to squire Holly to our meetings!