Hi. Sorry I didn't write on Friday. I had a headache when I got home and pretty much went timberrrr last evening. I wish I could predict when I get a migraine, but I can't. They can happen at any time really. Good days at work. Bad days at work. During vacation. Beginning of a long weekend. Whatever.
We are still in the city. We will be driving to the cottage shortly, after Patricia rests a little longer. She has a headache today. I didn't give her the headache, by the way. I gave her the pain in the ass that she always claims to have.
When she does get up, I will find a way to sneak Newbie into his carrier and then toss it with him in it into the car. Added to that will be some other things we are taking up there. We will return to the city on Tuesday afternoon sometime.
This morning we went to a breakfast buffet on Quinpool Road. A place that's been there forever called The Athens. I dipped into the money Frank Magazine paid me yesterday and treated her and me to this breakfast. Saves the time and trouble to cook something here.
Yes, I got my first pay cheque from Frank yesterday. Nice to say I have another source of income for a change.
I have already begun working on my first regular column for Frank. My deadline is this coming Thursday. I hope to be able to continue this column for some time, although it depends on feedback from readers and sales. So, buy lots of copies and say nice things to Andrew Douglas, don't you?
One day to go till I am off work for 4 days. We will go to the cottage either Friday night (hah!) or Saturday morning (more likely). At the cottage, in addition to sitting around and staring lovingly at one another, we have to mow the lawn and stain the front and back deck. All the work here at the house was good practice for the upcoming ordeal.
People think that owning a cottage is just a walk in the park, but they don't think about the time it takes to keep the place up, nor the cost thereof either. I'm not complaining, just explaining that there is actual work to keeping a place up. I realize you don't care.
I pick up my first cheque from my editor at Frank Magazine tomorrow. I was going to ask Patricia to pick it up for me, but this is the first of what I hope to be a string of such cheques, so I want to get the first one myself.
And Andrew wrote today to inform me that I have my very own email address at Frank. Going forward, if you want to write me, you can either use the main address associated with this blog, or at this one. The latter is configured to forward automatically to the former, so knock yourself out.
I have already been working on my first regular column for the next issue of Frank. You will just have to wait and see what I write about when it comes out the week after next. I figure that if I can just get two columns printed, then I will have beaten the record of disgraced Senator Patrick Brazeau, who was canned by Frank after two really crappy columns. Well, really, it was one and a half.
I started to watch "The Strain" last night through Plex. I figured it was a show about a guy who ate three pounds of cheese and got bunged up, but no! It's about vampires and an ancient and evil scourge. I hate false advertising. I should contact the producers.
Hello. This blog post is mostly meant for the folks who are discovering Bevboy's Blog.They are likely finding me because of my massive interview with Ron Roberts, which appears in the current issue (#697) of Frank Magazine.
See: Here I am, holding a copy.
Anyway, my name is Bevboy. There is a long story about how I got this nickname, but I have had it for more than half my life. In 2007 I decided to start this blog, and in 2008 I began interviewing radio people for it. People have told me that my interviews have inspired them to enter the radio profession. I apologize.
I write about all kinds of things, other than radio. I have a keen interest in local history. By "local", I mostly mean the Halifax area and parts of the Annapolis Valley.
I write about my cat, a tuxedo feline named Newbie. He is the size of a lynx these days. Every time he jumps on me, I think it is to tear off my head and piss down my neck. He is almost strong enough to do that.
And I have written a series of posts that are all about different years in my life, going back to when I was 4.
I have 2754 posts before this that you should catch up on. Many hours of good reading here. But then again, I am biased.
I hope that having discovered me, you come along for the ride. I promise to try not to bore you.
It is mere hours before the new issue of Frank Magazine comes out, the one featuring my interview with Mr. Ron Roberts.
Have I mentioned how excited I am to see this issue finally come out? No? Yes? Probably the latter.
It has been a long day. Patricia wasn't feeling well today so she took a sick day. This meant driving in to work on my own, so I took a different route, arriving at work early even though I left the house a little late. And, this evening I enjoyed a nice dinner that Patricia had made before I went out on the back deck for a spell. As the evenings grow cooler and the sun goes down earlier, I look forward to spending time on the decks, watching the world go by. I can take this laptop outside with me and surf to my heart's content. Good times.
Say, did I mention that there is a new issue of Frank Magazine out on Wednesday that features my work? No? Well, why don't you go buy a copy or five?
Newbie is crawling all over me like he is in heat or something. We chopped off his balls several years ago, so that is improbable, but he doesn't know when to stop. I feel like a piece of meat.
See you tomorrow.
P.S. Check out the new issue of Frank Magazine on Wednesday. My latest interview is in it.
P.P.S. Say, did you know that my latest interview is in the new issue of Frank, which comes out on Wednesday? Why don't you go check it out?
I have been sitting on this news for a few weeks now, since before I went on vacation. Until today, I didn't feel comfortable sharing it with you. I do, now.
I am starting a regular column with Frank Magazine. It will be all about radio, or at least as much about radio as I can make it.
I produced a test column last week, and Andrew Douglas, my editor at Frank, liked it. He asked for some changes, which I am happy to make; and he also told me where he would like the column to go. Bottom line is that if you like radio stuff, you will like this column.
I will expand the focus of the radio news to cover the entire province, from Yarmouth to Sydney, not just Metro and the Valley. If there is a format change, a jock gets fired, someone moves to another station, a PD is canned and replaced by someone else, I will do my best to find out about it and pass that along. Since Frank is a bi-weekly magazine, some of the news may be upwards of 10 days old by the time you see it. But I will have the time to get the story right. I hope to break news in this column as well. The sky is the limit. I have wondered for years why there wasn't a media column in the Chronicle Herald or in The Coast or in another outlet. Frank would have the "radio daze" feature from time to time, but there wasn't always stuff to write about every two weeks. I hope to remedy that.
Part of my feature will be to recommend something about Nova Scotia radio that I really like and that I want my readers to sample. People rag pretty hard about radio. While some of those criticisms are fair, by no means are all of them that way. There is a wide variety in terrestrial radio to enjoy, and I want to tell people about it.
What does this mean to my Blog readers? Not much. It is just that most of the radio news and commentary I was running here will no longer do so. Instead, they will be included in my column. The interviews will continue here as well, once I get out from under some other deadlines. My daily thoughts on other things will remain here. You will just have to pay for your radio news going forward either by buying Frank at the news stand every two weeks, by subscribing to the print edition, or by doing what I did last year and get a digital subscription. Your choice. I hope you select one of them.
I am very excited by this. Not many bloggers get to move over to a traditional medium, and especially get to be paid for their writing. I hope I am envied by some of my blogger colleagues. I thank Andrew for this opportunity and will not squander it.
Wish me luck as I embark on this new adventure. I am as nervous as frig about it.
I have been patiently waiting throughout the day for Monday to get here so that I can look forward to reading the digital edition of Frank Magazine come lunch time. But earlier today I received an email from Andrew Douglas, my boss at Frank, that the digital edition will not appear until Thursday, while the print edition will still come out on Wednesday as it usually does. I am guessing this has to do with the staff being on vacation these past few weeks and that there is some effort to putting the digital edition together.
This means that I must wait until Wednesday for the world to see my Ron Roberts interview. And that I wished away the weekend for no good reason.
Instead, I wish away the next two days. I wish it were Wednesday morning and I could go to the Superstore across the street from my work and get the latest issue of Frank and see how the interview turned out. I'm told it's about 8750 words long, which is about 1000 words less than what I sent Andrew. I am curious to know what was cut, and why, at least in the context of learning what kinds of things I should cut myself from interviews going forward.
Wednesday can't get here soon enough!
We did wile away the hours today watching a show called "Finding Carter". By all rights, we should not be seeing this program. It is broadcast on MTV and is about a 16 year old girl who learns that the woman she thinks is her mother, is actually the woman who kidnapped her from her true family years ago. She goes to live with her true family, but the kidnapper is still out there trying to get her back. The writing is sharp. The actors are terrific. And it has a good heart.
But I still wish it were Wednesday.
Maybe someone could knock me into one of those TV and movie comas, where someone is rendered unconscious by a blunt object and wakes up with no more ill effects than perhaps a small headache. Let's make this happen.
See you tomorrow. Which is Monday, two days before Wednesday. Which is when the latest Frank comes out.
Damn. It's not Monday yet. Instead it is late Saturday night.
We went to the Hubbards Farmer's Market this morning and then had lunch at the nearby Trellis Cafe. Excellent food. On the way back we went to the used bookstore in Tantallon called Otis and Clementine's. Because the name of the store doesn't really suggest what the store has or sells, they added a "Used Books" sign underneath. Here: check out their website. I ended up buying a Richard Matheson novel, and Patricia got a book that she will likely lend to my mother.
After that we went to the Superstore. They were having a sale, and we stocked up for the colder months. Many dollars were spent and many items were purchased. The stuff barely fit in my car. We still haven't put all the food away.
We returned home and spent time watching recent episodes of "Whose Line is it, Anyway?". This was all to kill time before Doctor Who started on the Space channel.
The new Doctor is played by Peter Capaldi. I am not a big Whovian. I find the Doctor all too often to be foppish and just odd. The first half of the episode, therefore, met my expectations. But after that, the character began to make more sense and by the end of the show, Capaldi had won me over. I am very much looking forward to seeing what they do with the character this year. And the special cameo at the end by... well, you see the show for yourself and see whether you can keep a tear from your eye.
We then watched The Intruders, which is something from former producers of The X-Files. Boring. Won't watch it any more.
It is nearly 1 in the morning. I guess I should turn in. If I sleep enough, I will wake up just in time to go to work on Monday morning. Then, I return to work. And, mid-morning, Frank Magazine comes out.
The weekend is here. I am happy about it. I hope you are, too.
I shouldn't tell you this, but I am looking forward to Monday, for it is then that the new issue of Frank Magazine comes out (in digital form), containing my interview with the illustrious Ron Roberts. I hope that all of you reading this tell your own friends and that many copies of the magazine are sold, thereby impressing my boss, Andrew Douglas.
Until then, I have to sit through Saturday and Sunday. I will fill these anxious two days by working around the house and watching stuff on Netflix and Plex and playing with Newbie and eating and sleeping. Maybe, just for fun, I will try to combine some of the above tasks. I can sleep while watching Plex, or watch Netflix while working around the house. Maybe I can eat while I am asleep.
We went to the Mac store after work this evening. I have never owned, and have barely used, a Mac computer in my life. I wasn't stuck up about it. I just didn't know anyone who used a Mac. They were much more expensive than Windows machines, and now that I mostly use Linux at home I don't need one, as these older machines still work very well.
Anyway, the Mac Probook line sure does look nice. They are pricey, but they are extremely powerful machines, and I was impressed. Not enough to get one, of course. But I was impressed.
Watching an interview of Tom Petty on CBC television right now. Does that man not age?
Sorry I didn't write on Wednesday. We didn't get home until half past midnight, barely 12 hours ago. We got home so late because of the Rise Again show at the Metro Centre, which was an effort to raise funds for the Stan Rogers Folk Festival, which was cancelled last month at the proverbial last minute. They did this because Post Tropical Storm Arthur was poised to smash into Canso, where the festival takes place every year.
The producers had to return a lot of money to a lot of people. Because there were fixed costs associated with the festival, and the attendant revenue stream was dammed off, they were strapped. Last night's event was to help balance the scales for next year. (Have I mixed enough metaphors yet?)
The show was excellent. It ran for about 3.5 hours from 8 until 11:45 including a short intermission. Bruce Guthro, the Stanfields, Slowcoaster, Matt Anderson, Gene MacLellan's daughter Katherine, Laura Smith, some people whose names I didn't catch, and more.
My god, what a good show. Matt Anderson was probably the highlight for me, although Katherine MacLellan's rendition of her father's song "Snow Bird" ran a close second. I had never seen him perform before. A more passionate Blues artist I have not seen, not that I am an expert or anything. It is nearly a cliché for guitarists to look pained when they play; they want to convey the sense that it is difficult to extract the correct notes from their instruments and sometimes look constipated as a result. But Anderson looks like he is going to die up there. He puts his entire body into playing his guitar. He thrashes his head up and down, his long hair askew and flying around as if he were Medusa's kid-brother. The looks on his face and his singing voice make me think that he thinks this is the last performance he will ever give and he wants to make it count. I am now a fan. I want to see a full concert with the man. Something tells me I should see him sooner rather than later. :-)
By 11:45 we were pretty tired. We had been up since 5:30 that morning and we would have to get up a scant 6 hours later and go to work. We made our way to the car, parked several blocks away at the corner of Granville and Sackville Streets, and drove home. I was so bushed after such a long day that it is hard to remember much of the ride home.
By 12:30 we were home and went to beddy bye.
And barely 12 hours later, I am half way through my work day. I think I will turn in a bit earlier tonight than I did last.
Welcome to Tuesday night, ladies and gentlemen. As I have noted here before, I suffer from migraine headaches. I developed a textbook one after lunch today, and only the miracle drug Zolmitriptan saved the day for me. I feel much better this evening. Thank you for asking. I am still messing around with the Plex Media Server. I note with some degree of irony that its abbreviation is PMS because there are times when configuring it makes me want to wail and gnash my teeth and yell at a man for an hour. (Whichever man happens to be around. Doesn't matter.) Were the last two sentences in the previous paragraph degrading? To men? Let me know. There is not much else to report. I am still waiting with bated breath for the next issue of Frank Magazine to come out to see how well my interview with Ron Roberts goes over with its readership. Do me a fave and buy an extra copy, won't you? There's a dear.
What else is going on? Newbie has found a new perch here in my home office. I have an entertainment centre in one corner. It's pretty tall. He likes to bound up from the floor, to this computer desk, to the printer, to the top of the nearby bookcase, and then to the top of the entertainment centre. There is a laptop bag up there, and he enjoys curling up on it. It's cute, but he scares the hell out of me sometimes when he jumps down and I didn't know where he was beforehand. He must think his name is on the deed to the house or something. I assure you, and him, that it isn't.
Tomorrow night we will be late getting home. We are going to a concert at the Metro Centre, paid for with Patricia's own money. It is a fund-raising concert for the Stan Rogers Folk Festival, which got cancelled at the last minute in July because of Post Tropical Storm Arthur. There are lots of great acts there, including many of our favourites. We are looking forward to seeing Laura Smith and The Stanfields and a dozen or so more. I will tell you about it when I get back home, which will be pretty late.
(I return the favour in September when we have weekend passes to the Deep Roots Festival in Wolfville. That will be frickin' awesome like it is every year. I paid for those.)
First day back to work, and there are some changes to report.
Neil Spence is no longer the Morning guy at Radio 965. Colin Sweets is no longer the Afternoon Drive guy at Radio 965. They have switched roles. In addition, Neil will be assuming some Music Director responsibilities.
My best wishes to both fine gentlemen.
Also, heard Don Connolly on Information Morning allude to changes at the CBC wrought over the last few days. Does that mean that the layoffs from this Spring have finally taken effect? If so, who was let go?
Send your radio news stories along to me via the usual methods.
It is looking as though I will soon have a much wider audience for media-related news. Stay tuned.
It is Sunday evening. I wish I could say that I had done a lot today. Instead, I did nearly nothing.
I did manage to stain the newly-created window sill as well as the new doors on my shed. First coat. Second coat in the offing.
My vacation is over. It was a pretty good one. One thing I want to mention though is what happened two weeks ago today. Our American cottagers and Patricia and I went to Amherst to meet the man who had written a book about Houdini. As part of the celebrations of that fine town, there would be a walk about of the town and the things that Houdini had done in that part of the province back in the day. There is a book by a man named Bruce MacNab in which he postulates that it was during his tour of Nova Scotia and New Brunswick more than 100 years ago when Houdini found his place in the world and developed his role as an escape artist. He had been a card shark before that.
Mr. MacNab had conducted the tour. We missed it. We managed to track him down late in the afternoon. I introduced myself and his face lit up. He knew of me well. Turns out that we are both big fans of the classic rock band Teaze. In fact, Mr. MacNab had been confused with me on a Teaze fan site.
I have been wanting this book for some time. I have seen his documentary on local cable in which he discusses the early tours of NS that Houdini did and even showed the remnants of buildings in Halifax and Dartmouth where Houdini performed. Even after all his research, there is still a week or two of time for which he cannot account for Houdini's activities. It is possible that he did shows in parts of the province that Bruce cannot track down.
At any rate, we talked about Houdini, and we talked about Teaze. We agreed that they got screwed by their record company, and that they could have done great things had they been nurtured properly. The fact that their greatest hit, "Sweet Misery", is considered by many to be a Country song, speaks volumes. It is still a little sad when you think about what they could have accomplished and weren't allowed to.
I have written several blog posts about Teaze. Go ahead and check them out. They are in the 940 series of posts, some 5 years ago.
Bruce MacNab, let me return the favour. It was a thrill to meet you and to discover that we have this passion in common. I hope that our paths cross again, and soon. My very best to you.
I still have to return to work in the morning. But now, I am not quite so bummed about it.
It is just past midnight. Technically Sunday morning.
I am back in the city. I got back to the house around 5pm. After a very long shower and a shave, we decided to go to a movie, and ended up seeing "Lucy". Don't bother. Started off well but fell to pieces toward the end, pretty much the way Scarlett Johansson herself did. Sorry for the spoilers.
(Yes. I shaved. Proof is below.)
Got back to the house and spent 90 minutes or so farting around with Plex Media Server. I have replaced some hard drives with other ones. Mounting that stuff is always great fun.
Sunday will be my last full day before I return to work on Monday. I have to stain the new doors on my shed as well as the window sill that the carpenter put in for me. Shouldn't take too long. Should have time to watch a movie or two on Netflix or something.
It is just past 5pm. I type these humble, perhaps even-subpar, words at the Just US! in downtown Wolfville. I have been here for more than an hour now, slurping my iced mochachino and enjoying an internet connection for the first time in several days.
I will return to the city sometime Saturday afternoon. I want to have a day to recover for work on Monday morning. Maybe, if I am lucky, I will have time to spend on my front and back deck. After all, they are costing me a lot of money, and I want to get some of that money's worth.
I had to take care of some business at an insurance place here in town this afternoon. As I was leaving Wanda Sheffield's office, I noticed a picture of a man seated at some kind of master control. "Looks like a radio picture", I said. "It was my father", Wanda said, explaining that her dad was Don Hill, who co-founded CKBW before moving to the Valley and eventually working at Annapolis Valley Radio for a few decades.
I have made Wanda promise to get me in touch with the family archive of pictures and perhaps even audio of her father. He interviewed Lorne Greene and Hank Snow and Minnie Pearl and many others.
What intrigued me the most, though, was when she told me that he had interviewed a noted silent film actress. "Theda Bara?", I asked, before realizing that she and her hubby had sold their Nova Scotia property in 1941, years before Don Hill would have been around to talk to her. "Lillian Gish", Wanda replied. Turns out that Ms. Gish was in Port Williams for some reason long ago, and that Don Hill caught up with her and interviewed her. I had no idea she would have been here. She was a contemporary of Theda Bara's, but I didn't know if they were friends or anything like that.
Does anybody reading this know anything about Lillian Gish's visit to Port Williams, 50 or so years ago? Why was she here? Did she have friends here? Where did she stay? Anything at all, my friends. Anything at all.
My iced mochachino is nearly gone, and the second battery on the laptop is running low, so I should call it a day.
Welcome to Monday. I still have a week to go before I return to work.
By the time you read this, I will have relocated to my mother's home in the Valley for several days. Lots to do there.
As you know from reading my Sunday blog post, I now have a paying writing gig, courtesy of Frank Magazine. Andrew Douglas and I go way back, but the most recent bit of business between us was when I sent him a link to this blog post,which resulted in a very good piece in Frank about Paul Kinsman and his association with Donna Goler, of the notorious Goler family. He even borrowed my copy of "On South Mountain" to complete his research on the topic before he published the article.
Did this help me get the job? Doubt it. But it didn't hurt either.
It is nearly 10pm. Even though I still have a week's vacation ahead of me, I must get up with the birdies on the morrow and drive Patricia to work, not because of the unearthly forces she can exert on me, but because I need to be downtown bright and early to take care of some financial matters. I will be paying the final third of the payment for the work done to my house over the last month or so.
I will put up more pictures here and on my Facebook shortly, but in the meantime just be content to know that everything looks just marvy. The front and back decks are comfortable and spacious, the front deck more so, because it is much larger. There is ample storage under both decks for things like wheelbarrows and green bins and the like. The shed has two new doors on it that need to be stained, but otherwise are a thing of beauty. The hinges and hasps and hooks and eyes are all new. A new light fixture adorns each entrance to the house, with an LED light bulb in each; and the spare fourth fixture was given to my next door neigbhour so that the fixtures on the front of our respective semis would match. The new window sill on the window here in my rec room looks great, but will also have to be stained fairly soon. The trees in the back yard are gone, and Patricia will be using that space for some kind of garden. The water hose now hangs on the side of my shed, rather than where it used to be hanging off the old back deck that was torn down and carted away. I am very happy with the work, and the least I can do is pay the damn bill on time, which I will tomorrow.
I have been mentioning it on my Facebook and Twitter, but not here, which seems odd somehow. I can announce that my next radio interview will be with Ron Roberts, but it will not be published here. Andrew Douglas at Frank Magazine has purchased first publication rights and it will run in the issue of Frank that will come out on August 25th.
(This marks my first professional writing, unless you include the porno novel I wrote when I was 20 or so. It was called "Stow Away!" and was written under the name of David Church. My favourite passage: "Benito sheathed his turgid meat-sword repeatedly into Georgina's love scabbard". Some of my best writing, in my opinion.)
So far, officially, this is a one-off. However, based upon how well the issue sells, perhaps there will be other interviews published in Frank, or maybe even elsewhere. Let's hope for the best. Buy five copies for your mother.
I have also been asked to come up with a regular column for Frank. I have agreed to do this and have spent quite a bit of time thinking about how to approach it whilst on vacay. Andrew has asked me to focus on things media related, with a slant toward radio, naturally. In practice, a lot of the news I post here about who's coming and going from which station will end up there rather than here. I will also likely comment on some of the changes I see in the market.
Andrew has also asked me to write about things in the Annapolis Valley, where I am from. There has not been much in Frank lately from that part of the province. The last major piece would have been the stuff about Paul Kinsman and the Golers. As you will see from Monday's post, another "best of", that article in Frank was inspired by my blog post on the same subject. Andrew even borrowed my copy of "On South Mountain" from me in order to complete his research on the topic, although he followed up with the initiative of contacting Kinsman's wife. Donna Goler would not return Andrew's calls; it would have been very interesting to learn her thoughts about his death and how she feels about the whole affair, all these years later.
At any rate, I may have a regular paying writing gig in my near future. But I do not want any of my 4.7 to worry. I will continue to produce fresh content here every day, or damned near every day, going forward, once I am back from vacation. I would not have this paying work were it not for the time and effort I have put into Bevboy's Blog all these years. I am as grateful to you for this as I am to Andrew Douglas for giving me this chance. I promise you, and him, that I will work hard to make you proud, and him, as happy an editor can be.
I am guessing that by the time you read this, or shortly thereafter, I will have returned to the city.
I write these words on August 8th. My first 2 weeks of vacation are over, pretty much. They have been restful, and as you can see in the selfies I have been publishing on my Facebook, you can tell I have let myself go.
You can tell I have also been reading a book called The Invention of Murder. I returned it to the River John Library 2 days ago, not having finished it. There will be no time to finish it ere I return to work on the 18th. My best bet will be to find a copy in the city and read that one.
Vacations go by so quickly. Too quickly. Every time a thought of work came to me, I pushed it out of my head like a wife pushes her husband out of bed when he's running late for work and doesn't want to get up.
I have another week to go in my vacation. On Monday I will finish paying off the work to my house, within the 14 day limit imposed on me by the invoice the contractor imposed on me (and then cajoled me into paying early!). Sometime that afternoon I will drive to the Valley, there to spend five or six days doing stuff around my mother's. I have 11 Alpine beer in the fridge down there and look forward to having a few of them.
What else is going on in this semi live blog post? The power went off at the cottage shortly after lunch on Friday. We had a lobster dinner in the town of Pictou. And, yes, the stench from the nearby Northern Pulp mill really is that bad, at least depending on where the wind is blowing and where you are when it is. Businesses are abandoning that shiretown. Locals who have tolerated the smell for decades because the plant provided much-needed jobs are fed up. They had been told for many years that it was "the smell of success". Now, it is "the stench of failure". There are times even at the cottage when we can smell it. We have the luxury of leaving tomorrow, but so many others do not. They are stuck in their homes or venture out and feel physically ill because of the assault on their nostrils. Whatever gets done, can't get done soon enough.
What else? We are looking forward to a return to steady internet access and to things like Netflix. We have many movies and TV shows on thumbdrives, played on a media player, but streaming is where it is at these days, and we miss doing that.
It is time to go pick up Patricia. She has been shopping at the local Frenchy's here in New Glasgow while I have been at the public library. Good times.
You guys have a good day. I will write you a "live" post on Sunday.
Ah! August 8th already. Two weeks down. One more to go. Come the first of the week, I will be in the Valley to enjoy the last week of my vacation. I don't even want to think about the lawn that I will have to mow.
A few years ago I wrote a blog post in which I defended a man whom I had disliked because of the comments of others whose opinions I trusted. I had come to regret those perceptions. I thought you might like to read that post again, to see how you feel.
You remember Peter Duffy, don't you? He wrote a column for the Halifax Chronicle Herald for a very long time. But what most of you don't know, and I can prove it, is that his first post-retirement interview was with me.
This interview has barely been read, folks. It is pretty good. Please check it out. You will make me happy.
Man, that day trip today was fun. But it is nice to be back with the cats. Newbie will want to eat something soon. So will I. Patricia! Get dinner on, will you? There's a good person.
I don't have internet access here at the cottage and I am supposed to keep data charges low, so I don't use the BB very much. This means that delightful entertainments like the Hot Facts Girls are difficult for me to reach out and enjoy.
Wow. August 4th already. How can that be possible? Seems like it was August 3rd just a few minutes ago.
Every year I do the annual Bevboy's Christmas Tie Extravaganza. If I choose to do it again, it will be year 7 for me. I thought it would be neat for you to see the entries from 2010. If you scroll down a bit you will see the one for Halifax City Hall, the old jail. That is the same jail from which Houdini himself escaped during a Nova Scotia tour some 100 years ago. True story.
August 3rd already. Where has the first week of my vacation gone? And am I still having fun? Of course I am.
It occurs to me that if I died in the first couple days of my vacation and yet "new" posts continued to be published for a couple of weeks, that it would be as creepy as frig for my 4.7 readers. Sorry about that.
Anyway, I thought I would point to a label on the blog today. I have a couple entries in this series about the so-called good old days. I pose some questions, and hardly anybody answers them. You know how the game is played.
Anyway, check them out and let me know if you can help out with any responses.
One thing a fella likes to do when he is on vacation is to reflect on his life and how he got to where he is.
I have been doing this blog for quite some time now. I thought I would reach back to post 2000 from a couple of years ago. It has a primer on the blog interviews conducted up to that time. It should whet your appetite for reading the full-length ones.
In some sense I can't wait for 2015 to get here. Among many other things to look forward to is a documentary film about the life and disappearance of Allan Kenley Matheson. He was a student at Acadia university back in 1992. Just a few weeks after classes started, he disappeared. No trace of him has ever been found.
Thanks to kickstarter enough money was raised to fund this film. I kicked in 20 bucks, which will entitle me to a free download of the movie.
Here are a few more details. And, once again, if you know anything that can lead to the conclusion to this perplexing mystery, let the authorities know about it.