Flotsam and Jetsam – Page 33 – The Imperceptible Immigrant

Twelfth Night

January 6, 2017 by admin

“A cold coming we had of it,
Just the worst time of the year
For a journey, and such a long journey:
The ways deep and the weather sharp,
The very dead of winter.”

T.S. Elliott – ‘The Journey of the Magi’

‘Tis Epiphany… The feast that celebrates the day on which the Magi supposedly reached Bethlehem and by some accounts – through their offerings of gold, frankincense and myrrh – kicked off the whole business of gift giving at Christmas. Who now would wait until twelfth night for that particular pleasure?

Wikipedia offers this snippet regarding the last night of Christmas:

“A belief has arisen in modern times, in some English-speaking countries, that it is unlucky to leave Christmas decorations hanging after Twelfth Night, a tradition originally attached to the festival of Candlemas (2 February), which celebrates the Presentation of Jesus at the Temple.”

Given that most folk these days like to get Christmas kicked off good and early – and who can blame them given the general dreariness of December in many parts of the northern hemisphere – it would be a wonder if the trimmings and decorations could ever last long enough to get through the whole of January – though should they so do it would certainly brighten up that month as well.

We here are strictly ‘trad’. It is January 6th – down come the ‘deccies’ – out goes the tree – hoovered up are the many needles that have dropped and been ground into the carpet! Everything is packed away into the Christmas Cupboard (see attached illustration!) ready for next year.

Now all that remains is to find somewhere to dispose of an extremely fragile Christmas tree. There are a number of local organisations that offer tree chipping services over the next few days for a charitable donation, or I could simply impose myself (once again!) on our dear friends in Saanichton, whose landscape design and garden maintenance business naturally possesses its own chipper.

In either case the trick is to get the tree to its destination without it shedding its entire remaining compliment of needles all over the Lexus!

When in Rome

December 18, 2016 by admin

I purchased the apartment in the small village in the south of Buckinghamshire (in the UK) that the Kickass Canada Girl and I were to have such trouble selling before we moved to Canada last summer – back in the first year of the new millennium.

When I took possession in the November of that year I knew that the place needed a fair amount of renovation before I would be able move in but as I was, by great good fortune, at that point housed by the school at which I then worked, I was able to engage a builder and to give him free reign over the apartment in the run-up to Christmas.

As I mentioned in the very early days of this blog, the Georgian manor of which my apartment was but a portion occupied a prominent position in the centre of one of those arcadian English villages (four hundred inhabitants (or thereabouts), sixteenth century church, one pub (of varying quality), a cricket club (likewise!), a huddle of ‘artisans’ dwellings and farm buildings) which are, of course, all as pretty as a picture postcard!

Most days, after leaving work, I drove the short distance to my new residence to check on the (apparently inevitably) glacial progress of the building works. It would be dark by the time I wound my way down the hill into the village so I was accustomed to not really being able to make out that much of the surroundings. Given the sleepy, bucolic nature of the place, therefore, you might imagine my surprise – nay, total shock! – on entering the village on one such dark evening to come face to face with a single small terraced cottage – just across from the pub – that had been adorned with sufficient Christmas illumination that it must surely have distracted pilots on their run-in to Heathrow airport.

Lest you think my reaction excessive you should remember that in the main the Brits don’t go in for American-style public displays of decoration for the outsides of their residences (the which they tend to find a little on the… er, garish side) preferring instead the traditional Christmas tree, tinsel and paper-chains on the inside.

Canadians are (as in most things) somewhat more restrained than their neighbours to the south, but do have something of a liking for illuminated inflatable figures of such size that they must needs be deflated should the weather forecast prophesy wind speeds in excess of the balmy. This year – ignoring my habitually raised eyebrow – the Girl persuaded me that – as we are both now Canadians (if only in the honorary sense on my part) – we should make a little more effort to join in. As you can see from the image that heads this post we didn’t exactly go overboard… but this seems to me to be a suitably mid-Atlantic compromise.

Those who find my attitude to such things snobbish will be delighted to hear that back in 2000 I rapidly received my comeuppance. Having grumbled to all and sundry about the unsuitability of such a vivid display for a sleepy rural village I discovered – on my next visit to the pub – that the owners of the cottage had lost a young son to a cancer and subsequently each year decorated the frontage as part of a fund-raiser for an appropriate children’s cancer charity.

That shut me up!

A good gulp…

October 7, 2016 by admin

“Suggested remedy for the common cold: A good gulp of whiskey at bedtime – it’s not very scientific, but it helps.”

Alexander Fleming

Bah!

I seem to have acquired a mild but most annoying instance of the common cold.

I say again – Bah!

I write this not to elicit sympathy (though I will naturally not spurn such if offered!) for ’tis but a mild malady and will not last long. I really only mention it because this is the first cold that I have had since moving to Canada more than a year hence. Last winter came and went with not a hint of either a cough or a sniffle.

Such benefits clearly come in part from living in such a healthy environment but I have little doubt that this benediction also emanates from my retirement from a lengthy career in education. For as long as I can recall I have suffered two or three colds a year, one such usually being contracted a couple of weeks subsequent to the start of each term. There is an obvious boon in no longer being forced into extended proximity to a host of germ-laden youngsters!

In any case another consideration must now be borne in mind. The Girl’s new(ish) job brings her into regular and frequent contact with elderly folk. It is clearly imperative that she doesn’t catch anything that might be passed on, so if I do get an attack of the sniffles extra precautions must be taken.

Of course, should that mean taking the occasional additional ‘wee dram’ you would not hear me complaining!

Adjusting the sails

September 20, 2016 by admin

“The pessimist complains about the wind; the optimist expects it to change; the realist adjusts the sails.”

William Arthur Ward

As posited in this entry in the ‘captain’s log’ of but a few tides back the good ship Dignity spent the past month berthed in a snug slip at Westport Marina – the which lies on the east coast of the peninsula but a little to the north of Sidney.

As was almost inevitably the case we did not get out on her as much as we would have liked (the weather broke, life got busy, etc, etc) and upon the brief voyages that we did essay we found at least one important job that needs to be done in short order (replacing the raw water pump. Boating people will know that this is not a good place to have a leak!).

That having been said much was learned and fun was had. The Kickass Canada Girl was introduced to the delights of Sidney Spit on a sunny day (as well as to the boat!) – my brother, our dear friend (and constant ‘bailer out’) from Saanichton and I supped ales at Port Browning on Pender Island (alcohol-free in my case – boo!) – and I discovered that I can conn my way into and out of a marina on my own, in addition to being able to take the boat out of the water single-handedly.

Pictures were – as you would expect – snapped and a selection are presented below for the reader’s delectation:

Time to get her name on that stern!

This is the passage between North and South Pender islands…

…and this is Port Browning.

These shots were taken at Sidney Spit.

Time to head for home.

Something about a queen

September 17, 2016 by admin

“Well, I dreamed I saw the knights in armor coming, saying something about a queen.”

Neil Young – ‘After the Goldrush’

I had a hankering – just the other day – to listen again to Neil Young’s splendidly mysterious classic – ‘After the Goldrush‘. I don’t recall now what brought the song to mind… maybe I heard a snatch of it – or read something somewhere… It matters not.

What I did not want was to listen to Neil Young singing it! Nothing against the Canadian ‘national treasure’ of course – it is just that for this particular piece I have always had a different sound in mind – one which involves the female voice. This whimsy is probably the result of having loved the 1970s ‘a cappella’ rendition by Prelude – which is the version of the track that I heard first.

The recording of the Prelude version is – however – sadly showing its age somewhat these days, and I found myself scouring the InterWebNet for a more recent cover that might achieve a similar effect. As ever such a thing was eventually uncovered – in the (slightly) more up to date version (1999) by Dolly Parton, Emmylou Harris and Linda Ronstadt (and who would have ever thought that I would be be listening to that combination?!).

The exercise started me thinking. There are instances when only a specific genre of music will do. This particular mood – for example – clearly demanded the dulcet tones of the old-fashioned female torch singer in delivery of eloquent and poignant versions of classic tunes – perhaps with a slightly twist of mystery for good effect.

Time to put together a suitable compilation CD – I decided – commencing a further search. Herewith the list of tracks and versions with which I have come up thus far to satisfy this requirement (in no particular order):

Alfie (Burt Bacharach, Hal David) – Vanessa Williams
Wichita Lineman (Jimmy Webb) – Cassandra Wilson
Both Sides Now (Joni Mitchell) – Joni Mitchell (from the ‘jazz’ album ‘Both Sides Now’)
One (Harry Nilsson) – Aimee Mann (album version)
Cry Me a River (Arthur Hamilton) – Diana Krall
After the Gold Rush (Neil Young) – Dolly Parton, Emmylou Harris, Linda Ronstadt
The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down (Robbie Robertson) – Joan Baez
Somewhere (Leonard Bernstein, Stephen Sondheim) – Barbra Streisand
The Moon’s a Harsh Mistress (Jimmy Webb) – Judy Collins
This Woman’s Work (Kate Bush) – Kate Bush
Unchained Melody (Alex North, Hy Zaret) – Sarah McLachlan
That’s What Friends Are For (Burt Bacharach, Carol Bayer Sager) – Trijntje Oosterhuis (live with guitarist Leonardo Amuedo)
Nothing Has Been Proved (Chris Lowe, Neil Tennant) – Dusty Springfield

Should the gentle reader care to add any suggestions of his or her own before I commit this list to plastic such would be reviewed with great interest…

Paying homage

September 1, 2016 by admin

On Saturday last – for the second time in as many weeks – the Kickass Canada Girl and I found ourselves witness to a gathering of Canadians making an unanticipated act of homage to a musical icon…

Having bid a tearful farewell last week to ‘The Tragically Hip’, this latter occasion featured a fair sized gathering of Victorians over two nights at the Royal Theatre bidding an unlikely ‘hello‘ to Sixto Rodriguez.

Some readers may already be familiar with the frankly bizarre story of Mr. Rodriguez and they may thus choose to skip ahead, but for those – like me – who were previous oblivious to his existence, here is a brief outline.

Sixto – known professionally simply as ‘Rodriguez’ – is a singer/songwriter from Detroit who had a brief and scarcely noticed career in the late 60s/early 70s during which he released two albums – ‘Cold Fact‘ and ‘Coming from Reality‘ in 1970 and 1971 respectively – which were critically well received but sold barely a copy. On being as a result dropped by his record label Rodriguez – phlegmatically and with considerable good grace – retired from the business and returned to his former career in construction.

This might well have been the end of the story were it not that – by dint of a speculative re-release of his albums and through much word of mouth – Rodriguez subsequently became a considerable sensation in South Africa to the tune of some half a million records sold. This rise to the status of a musical icon would have represented a gratifying – if belated – acknowledgement of his talents, were it not that Rodriguez himself was entirely unaware of this turn of events and the South Africans had no idea who he was – having been provided with none of the necessary back-story. Indeed, the rumour rapidly spread that Rodriguez had at some point committed suicide – though even here the details of his supposed demise varied widely from the merely tragic to the quite grotesque.

Eventually – toward the turn of the millennium – a couple of South African fans determined to discover the truth concerning his fate and the man was eventually tracked down to his home in Detroit. On discovering that he was – after all – yet alive he was persuaded to visit South Africa to play a series of concerts, which he duly did in 1998. This again might have been the end of the tale but for a Swedish film director – Malik Bendjelloul – deciding that the story merited turning into a documentary film. The resulting production – ‘Searching for Sugarman’ – has won a plethora of awards, including – in 2013 – the ‘Academy Award for Best Documentary Feature’.

As a result of the subsequent interest Rodriguez – now in his mid seventies – has resurrected his musical career and gone back on the road, whilst at the same time trying to establish what exactly happened to the royalties from all of the albums that he did not know he had sold in South Africa. The two sell-out shows in Victoria – in a 1400 seat theatre – pay testament to the ongoing curiosity concerning his story.

If one were to be critical one might observe that the career in construction has clearly exacted a heavy physical toll on the man and his once remarkable voice is a shadow of what it was. It is also obvious that when Rodriguez stopped making records in the early 70s he simultaneously stopped writing, and though his oeuvre displays considerable poetic talent it is also brief in the extreme. Nice to hear cover versions of other people’s songs from that era, but perhaps not entirely worth the rapt adoration that the man received from the packed house on Saturday. I couldn’t help but speculate that it was the narrative that was being applauded rather than the performance itself.

A fascinating study in philosophical anthropology, nonetheless…

An evocation…

August 25, 2016 by admin

Even as my brother and his SO wound their weary way back across a continent and an ocean to the United Kingdom (currently enjoying – by all accounts – much the same sweltering incalescence as are we here in Victoria) I thought I might have one last rummage through the picture box to see what further delights I might be able to muster, with a view to weaving a final gentle evocation of these few weeks past.

In other words – here are some more photos!

The Hip

August 22, 2016 by admin

For three hours on Saturday night last Canada was ‘closed’. The Canadian Broadcasting Corporation’s (CBC) wall to wall coverage of the Rio Olympics was put on hold and there would even have been (had the hockey season yet commenced) a brief hiatus from the nation’s abiding passion.

Much of the country instead settled in (or partied out) to watch the live streaming from Kingston, Ontario of the final ever concert by ‘The Tragically Hip‘.

Canadian readers will require no further explanation and can skip blithely ahead. For many of them ‘The Hip’ have provided an iconic soundtrack to Canadian life for the last three decades and more, capturing the essence of Canadiana to a degree matched by no other. The band is – however – largely unrecognised without these shores and, though they have achieved some recognition in the UK and elsewhere, the Americans don’t seem to get them at all. This naturally endears them all the more to the inhabitants of these fair lands.

Non-Canadians might yet wonder why – in the age of the endless resurrection of their careers by those old enough to know better – quite so much fuss has been made of ‘The Hip’s’ farewell. The answer is tragically simple. Lead singer, lyricist and poet, Gord Downie, has an incurable brain tumour. To suggest that the occasion of the final concert was emotionally charged would be an understatement.

Prime Minister Trudeau (apparently a huge fan) was in the audience and Downie took the opportunity to publicly hold his feet to the fire concerning election promises, particularly with regard to the matter of the treatment of the First Nations. It is most likely that the many fans of the band will use this exhortation to endeavour to ensure that there is no backsliding on the part of the Liberal government.

We attended a splendid ‘Hip Party’ hosted by our dearest friends in Saanichton, complete with big screen and sound system in the garden so that no-one would miss the show. We cheered – we sang – we danced – we shed many a tear… The moment – and the occasion – was duly celebrated.

I am, of course, a newcomer – both to this fair land and to ‘The Hip’. The making of a myth – however – is easily recognised by those for whom such rites are an essential part of our existence in this realm.

I am one such.

Hit the road, Jack!

August 6, 2016 by admin

Up at crack of dawn (well – almost) to catch the 8:00am ferry to Tsawassen. We are off once again on our travels.

There is this time – however – a difference in that we have with us a visitor – a relative stranger to these shores. My brother has come from the UK to stay with us.

This is not his first visit to Vancouver Island – he was here in 2010 for our wedding – but this is his first trip since we moved here last year and he is indeed the first guest from the UK to stay in our new home. The first of many we hope.

I have not to this point mentioned his visit through the agency of these jottings for good reason… I was sworn to secrecy! My brother has just turned sixty and his two really rather splendid sons (and his eldest’s excellent wife) arranged this trip for him as a birthday surprise. Kudos, chaps!

Anyway – we are off to the interior for a short break. No details as yet as some of that, too, is intended as a surprise.

What fun!

Sea trial

August 4, 2016 by admin

Well – the good ship Dignity finally hit the waters again the other evening as our dear friend from Saanichton helped me to take her for a brief early evening sea trial to ensure that all of the bits and pieces were in full working order.

She had been sitting on her trailer for a good long time and was somewhat reluctant to part company with it. Those who know about such things will attest that the procedure for putting a boat into the water at the boat launch (once in position and having carried out all the ‘pre-flight’ checks, including freeing the vessel from its carrier) is to back the trailer sharply into the water and then to brake hard. At that point the momentum of the boat is meant to carry it gracefully off the trailer rollers and into the water.

In this instance Dignity – not having dismounted for a considerable period – took three attempts. I have no doubt that as she and I become more accustomed to the procedure the operation will prove easier to effect.

She was also a little rusty from not having been run properly for quite a while, and needed to be thoroughly warmed up before going into drive without futtering out (technical term!). Once fully awake – however – she demonstrated that the Penta V8 has more than enough power to get her moving in a serious fashion. She goes onto the plane easily and handles the water well. I am not yet sure what this will do for fuel economy, but I feel inclined in any case to handle her cautiously (as one should a lady!) – at least until I have had a chance to log some statistics.

As a next step I am contemplating finding her a berth in a marina for a month, so that I may spend some serious time gaining as much practical on-board experience as possible.

So much to learn…

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