Neil Crone - Enter Laughing

Stoogey McIdiot...

I just got back from this morning's Remembrance Day ceremony here in town.  I really like the small town service that the Legion puts on. It's very touching and always meaningful.  Breaks my heart a little too, to note a new absence or two every year as Veterans leave us. Sunderland is a great little town.  They love their Vets and they support them.  There's always a good crowd, even, as is usually the case, when the weather is horrendous.  Today was an anomaly.  It was bright, sunny, even warm at times.  As I think I've mentioned in previous posts, the one thing that always drives me ape is when people seem to think their meeting or grocery run or gravel load is more important than taking a few moments out to recognize, respect and honour the memory of those who served for the rest of us.  There's almost always a bonehead or two who just doesn't get it.  This morning something kind of wonderful happened.  I was standing a few feet onto the street by the Cenotaph, at the periphery of the crowd.  One of the Legion members had just started to read 'In Flanders Fields'.  It was a lovely, poignant moment.  Suddenly Stoogey McIdiot comes rattling down the street towards us with a canoe on top of his car. Apparently he just had to get to where he was going.  Couldn't wait the ten or fifteen minutes to observe along with the rest of us.  I don't want to pre-judge, of course. Who knows, maybe he was a courier de bois running a load of pemmican to some destitute pioneers? Anyway, I was just starting to get steamed,  when all of a sudden several guys beside me took two large steps into the middle of the road, effectively blocking Stoogeys path. Making no effort to disguise their annoyance they waived the guy back to where he'd come from.  I was delighted and afterwards thanked them both for their vigilance and respect of the ceremony.  Next time I think we'll actually drag the guy out of his car, haul him into the legion and let him listen to a few of the vets tell their stories of what they went through.  Maybe that'll reach him.  Or not.

A timely read...

I just finished reading Stephen Pressfields  The War of Art.  What a remarkable book.  I've read my share of self-help, how-to's on writing and the creative life but this one is right up there.  It's the real goods.  Here is a man who has spent a lifetime battling the 'resistance' that artists of all stripes know only too well.  That voice in your head that tells you incessantly that there's no point...give up...this one will be rejected too...who do you think you are anyway? Like most books of this sort, he's not really telling us anything that we don't already know at some level, but he reminds us of it in the clearest, most accessible way possible.  We're all born creative.  We're all born artists...we all do something (or want to do something) incredibly well and better than anyone else.  But fear and resistance keeps most of us from realizing it.  I get this.  I hear that voice almost every day.  But it stops the minute I start in at the keyboard and begin 'the work'.

If you've got a novel you need to write, a painting you need to paint or a business venture your heart tells you would be fantastic...but you've always found a reason or a hundred to not get around to it.  Read this book.  It's not long...a couple of hours read...and you'll feel fantastic afterwards.  I think most of us need to hear this stuff again and again and again.

Enjoy this day...

Spectacular day today.  Raked leaves until the cows came home with intermittent moments of simply lying under the apple tree and soaking up some much needed Vitamin D.  Finished up with a pipe on the deck.  Is there a better season to smell pipe tobacco than the fall?  Glorious Day.  Moving into reading on the couch as the next phase.  Life doesn't get much better than a little John Updike after some outdoor body work.  Hope your Sunday has been as wonderful. Be well.  Enjoy this day.

The kid is perfect.

Every now and then, as a photographer, you get lucky.  This was one of those shots.  It was my son Duncan's Commencement night from High School,  In this shot he has just received his diploma and all of a sudden, unbeknownst to anyone he pulled a handful of sparkly confetti out of his pocket and threw it up in the air. I shot it on a 300 mm telephoto from about fifty feet away, with nothing more than a standard flash. It was a beautiful, funny, delightful gesture and for the briefest moment the air all around him sparkled.  Like him. Check out the delight on the teachers faces around him.  He is the picture of joy in this photo and I think that's what I love about it.  If I ever worry about him and his hair and his piercings...I have only to look at something like this and realize that the kid is alright.  Better than alright.  The kid is perfect.

It's a small world after all...

I entered the world of 'Facebook' a week or two ago and I'm still reeling.  It's terrifying and wonderful at the same time.  Like any other venture where people, lots of people, are involved, you get the gamut of experiences; from the sacred to the profane.  But aside from the lunacy of everyone under the sun clamoring to become friends...as though we were back in grade three swapping hockey cards at recess...one of the rather amazing things I've witnessed is that the 'six degrees of separation' thing really does apply.  Facebook does this interesting thing where, when you visit someone's profile it has a comprehensive list of that individual's friends.  Scrolling through these it's startling to see how many friends you have in common.  Even people from very disparate vocations and lifestyles.  I was poking through the 'friend pile' of an old public school acquaintance who is now an Oncology nurse.  I was surprised as heck to see that amongst her friends were a number of writer and director friends of mine.  Not sure how those six degrees line up, exactly, but they're there.

What you begin to realize, pretty quickly, is that it is in fact, and always has been, a small world after all.  The Internet and Facebook are making it downright cozy.

Sometimes a spade is just a spade...

I've been loosely following the story of David Chen, the shopkeeper who, after nabbing and detaining a shoplifter in his store, suddenly found himself being charged with forcible confinement, assault, carrying a concealed weapon and kidnapping.  If ever there was a case of the tail wagging the dog this is it.  Today, Chen had two of the charges against him dropped but still has to go to trial to settle the issues of forcible confinement and assault.

This is a guy who was working hard, trying to make an honest living.  He catches a moron who is not at all working hard and is making a very dishonest living, and now he is suddenly the criminal?  What am I missing here?  

There are times when, raping of cattle and stampeding of women aside, it might be nice to return to the days of the old west.  A little frontier justice would not be remiss in a case like this.  How and why this ever even came to court paints a perfect picture of everything that is wrong with the justice system today.

It never should've gotten past this conversation...

Judge:  Did you shoplift from this man?

Thief:  Yes, but...

Judge:  Shut up.  Did you tie this man up and hold him until the police arrived?

Chen:  Yes.

Judge:  Excellent.  In doing so you've saved many expensive man hours of police work.  Are you this thief's lawyer?

Lawyer:  Um...I'm not sure I should...

Judge:  Are you his lawyer?

Lawyer:  (gulp) Yes.

Judge: You're the idiot who wanted to string this black and white issue out over months of expensive litigation, costing the taxpayers tens of thousands of dollars, not to mention making it very difficult for this hardworking shopkeeper to stay in business, while you, by the by, rake in a fortune in legal fees and...worst of all...waste my time???

Lawyer:  You see, your honor, the rights of my client have....

Judge: Give them both five years and get them out of my sight.

 Ahhhh, the good old days.  Okay, I realize that sometimes the wheels of justice must, of necessity, grind slowly and carefully, lest we incarcerate more Donald Marshals and Guy Paul Morins.  But sometimes a spade is clearly a spade.

Up to code...

Must be nice to be in the cellular phone industry right about now.  I thought the new 'hands free' legislation would have little impact on me.  I thought wrong.  Guess it snuck up on me but I've become fairly reliant on having a phone aboard my little yellow bug.  I drive a lot.  Sometimes a thousand clicks a week.  What that translates into is a lot of business and personal time spent in the car.  Eventually you're going to want to use the phone.  And I couldn't exactly pull over and hunt for a payphone whenever I wanted to have one of those 'What are you wearing' conversations with my wife. And now I've got my oldest son driving around too.  We don't like him to go out in the car without a phone as well.

So, today, I mortgaged the house, walked into a Bell Mobility store and went to town.  Seeing as the two cellular phones we had been using might have seen action at D-Day, I needed to upgrade to something from this century.  Something in the 'Bluetooth' line.  Luckily Bell was more than happy to 'give' me two snazzy new phones once I agreed to finally sign a contract with them.  They will also be coming to take away my next born child, should my wife ever consent to relations with me again after reading this. I also ponied up the dough for a couple of wireless, handsfree devices...one for each vehicle.  We are now completely up to code. Totally safe and good to go. The only problem is I can no longer afford gas.

Going out with a whimper?

Kind of a slow night last night.  There was a time, and it was not that long ago, when Water Street in Sunderland was Halloween Central.  We routinely had over 200 kids coming by the place.  Desperate parents ran out of candy and then raided their kids larder to keep up appearances. Not anymore.  I guess we're at a low ebb of Trick or Treat age kids.  Last night we had a smattering of the very tiny...terrified tots urged forward by excited, first-time trick or treating parents, and older teens bordering on a last sugar-coated hurrah.  Not much in the middle.

We've always done a big deal at our house for Halloween.  We just like the holiday.  Maybe it's near and dear to our hearts because on Halloween everyone becomes an Actor...for a while.  Anyway, as I say we always put on a bit of a performance ourselves. Over the years we've had everything from a fully operational, dancing ghost jazz orchestra to a creepy live hand shooting out from the bottom of the candy bowl to grab unsuspecting goodie seekers.  Last night, my son Connor stayed home for the first time to take part in the show.  He, dressed as a kindly old grandmother, sat in his rocking chair, smiling beatifically and holding onto a length of chain that ran around the neck of her monstrous Frankensteinian son...yours truly.  I pretty much had one line all evening "Bruce give candy?"  To which Connor replied, "Yes you can give candy Bruce...just don't hurt the boys and girls".  We had a lot of fun.  Still, when I consider that that may have been our last Halloween in Sunderland...we're selling our home...I felt like we went out with a whimper.  We even had candy left over. Sigh.

Bad Santa rides again...

The lovely and hilarious Maureen Holloway and I.

Made another appearance as 'Bad Santa' on Derringer in the Morning today.  What wonderful, completely politically-incorrect, insensitive fun.  It's very therapeutic playing a complete boor now and then.  My wife can't even listen to it.  But like I say, it's fun.  For those of you who might want to listen, I'll try and post the link to the recorded version on Q107's website as soon as it's up.  That is, if it goes up.   After this morning, I might be personally responsible for Q losing their broadcast license. Still...everybody should get to cut loose like this now and then. For me, a huge part of the fun is just making Derringer laugh until he cries. I consider John to be one of the funniest, smartest guys I know and if I can crack him up, especially after many many appearances as this character...I know I'm doing something right. I'll be back on the show in November for John's Christmas show finale.

It's good to be King.

Dear valued readers and writers...you may have noticed a couple of postings being removed from this site in the last week or so. That's a rare occurrence here. I value freedom of speech greatly and am loathe to ever go to the length of hitting the delete button, but here's the thing...the Internet is a vast and wonderful space where there are ample chat rooms, blogs and discussion forums where hateful, incendiary, personal attacks are not only tolerated but encouraged.  Go there.  Please go there.  Go there with my blessing and wishes for a long and ulcer-ridden life.  If that is your thing why waste your time even reading the postings found here in this ridiculous, oh so quaint and naive corner of the web. This is not the place for that kind of crud and I, as Emperor and moderator, am putting all such trolls on notice that I will no longer tolerate it. It will be removed before the virtual ink is dry. So don't waste your time or ours.  Time and life are precious...trust me, that tumor you're developing with all of your spleen is already making your angry days shorter than you know.  By all means bring your varied, even antagonistic opinions to these pages. We love that and you will always be welcome if you come in a spirit of genuine, intelligent, spirited debate.  But the moment I smell schoolyard bully or ignorance spewed from anonymity...out you go.

It's good to be King.