Stompin' Tom and a few beers

First of all, RIP Stompin' Tom Connors. One of the greatest songwriters period and in Canada, never to be replaced.

I was an early fan of Stompin' Tom. I remember seeing him at the Ontario Place Forum in the early 70's. I was too young to see him at the Horseshoe Tavern. What attracted me? Possibly his boot stompin' on that two by four piece of wood. I probably knew a song or two. It wasn't the Maritimey essence of his personality and musical style since there was no Maritimey presence in popular music in Toronto in that day, Anne Murray and Hank Snow notwithstanding. I remember telling a Newfie staffer at my dad's drug store to check him out and she did at the Horseshoe. Her complaint was she wanted to give him a big bar of soap because he looked so dirty.

I even visited the town he grew up in and where sits his museum, Skinners Pond PEI. We arrived the day after Labour Day and the entire village and museum was deserted. PEI in those days was shut down the day after Labour Day. Didn't matter. I knew more about him than the average Canadian tourist.

Today I realize I liked him because of his great songwriting and passion about this country. Songwriting is both a gift and an acquired skill but passion comes from the heart and soul, you can't buy it at Rexall. He was also Indie music artist when Indie music didn't exist and I am sure he did quite well financially if not artistically.

This blog though is going to deal briefly with his two massive--I mean massive--autobiographies. I own and read both of them. Well, maybe not the second one. It got to a point in this humongous paperback when Tom would write: "We had another great show at the Horseshoe, we went home, had a few beers and went to sleep." Or, I had a song idea about hockey, making the verses like the three periods of a real hockey game, wrote it one night, had a few beers and went to sleep." Or, Lena and I had a fight, we kissed and made up, had a few beers and went to sleep." I read once that one of the major requirements of playing in his back-up band was the ability to drink. Mr. Connors REALLY enjoyed his beer. And to live to be 77, loved by millions, remembered so fondly by the media and Canadian people and having consumed enough beer to fill Lake Superior, well, that's one good life, well lived and a touch pickled.

My Extremely Brief Adventures in Storage Wars

(Updated from a November 23/12 blog entry)

I had never heard of the TV show Storage Wars until after dinner one night at my brother's house. Surfing around the TV universe we started watching this show. The basic premise (and it's the same thing every time) is a bunch of regular buyers gather at some Storage Unit business and purchase the contents of an unpaid or abandoned unit for auction. Usually they find some interesting item to later find out at an "expert appraiser" whether it's worth a lot of money or is a cheap "boat anchor".

I have been watching the show on and off ever since; not hard to do when A&E broadcasts several episodes of it nightly. Then I noticed in the local paper that there was going to be such a real Storage Unit Auction in my area. So I went.

I brought and bought all the necessities: A flashlight to check out the dark unit, a lock for my unit if I buy it, and of course, cash. I brought only $200 just to be safe.

I arrived a little late to the first sale (which I learned would take place at many such storage properties around town all day long). The first thing I noticed is how bad storage unit buyers are at parking. They would be parked partly into the next spot making it impossible for me to park the beloved Ford Fusion. As I nervously pondered to take off while the going was good I noticed a bunch of guys quickly leaving the building. OK, a fence side parking spot opened up. I backed in to hear severe scraping on the bottom of my car. Great! I got out of that mess slowly to take one of the now parkable regular spots. Yes, this auction was over but the black-suited friendly dude who I later learned was the auctioneer told me that this was going on all day and the boys were headed to the next location. I say boys since they were overwhelmingly male. I hate to be prudish but these boys were seemingly a little rough on the rough side.

My life experiences with such rough types comes mainly from my time as a movie extra, bar singer and Texas Hold 'Em player. Being a movie extra here in Hollywood North is one of the worst jobs going. I guess that's not fair since now and again I met some decent folk, shared air with some big movie and TV stars (Charles Bronson, not as ugly, not as tall RIP), and once in a blue moon ate excellent gourmet lunches. Non-union movie extras tend to be paid as low as humanly possible, sit around and wait all day long, and I do mean all day, from 5 a.m. to 3 a.m. usually fed prison quality food and treated like crap. Extras are there because of how they look and have a pulse. I've met lots of extras freshly out of prison or odd folk in general. Not all, but most. Movie people think extras are unnoticed in films which is probably why when I was in the movie Renegades I was in seven different positions in a 2 minute street scene between Kiefer Sutherland and Lou Diamond Phillips.

I've pretty much given up singing in bars. Once again, lots of nice folk out for a good time; fortunately I sing in tune and some of their favourite tunes but when I'm asked to do an obscure Smashing Pumpkins song and when I don't know it have my life threatened, or any song by Zepplin, Bon Jovi or one of the millions of rock songs that I lack the brain capacity to know, it's not my scene anymore.

These storage shoppers also reminded me of the Texas Hold 'Em players I've mostly given money to over the years at CasinoRama, Niagara Falls or Las Vegas. I do not play cards but started watching those Poker shows on TV probably aired and produced during the extended baseball strike on TSN and Sportsnet. I got hooked as did my friend, Steve. I've lost a lot of dough over the years playing with these card sharks over the years and once again, 95% males, but have come out with some good laughs and the occasional profit. When I came in fourth at a poker tournament at Planet Hollywood in Vegas and was handed $86 US dollars it was one of the highlights of my gambling career! That feeling is probably why gambling is considered an addiction. Doesn't matter that it cost me $60 to play.

Back to "Storage Wars". I got to the next location, bad parkers again but followed others to a better parking area and joined the gang waiting to open the first locker.

I have to say, the experience is exactly like the TV show. The auctioneer opens the unit and out come the flashlights and secretive talk while checking out the contents. This unit was filled to capacity, a 10 X 15 foot unit, filled with stuff. I saw a BBQ, luggage, lots and lots of stuff. Then they started the bidding; it ended up going for $775.00.

It is kind of fun to open these doors and the surprise to see what's inside, even though some poor schmo is losing all of their stored goods to some small time street hustler. The next unit was emptier, containing 3 or 4 Carlsberg bar "foosball" games, an old TV and a couple of furniture pieces. This one went for $445.00. Lots of guys immediately started leaving, even the guy who won the bid because that was it and they were all headed to the next location.

They went north, I went south.

Let's say I won that first unit for $200.00. I would have to empty it out all by myself and my wife would have killed me, the gentle soul that she is if I brought anymore junk into our already at capacity casa. If I saw a bunch of guitar cases (and they could have all been empty) I might have bid on that but wouldn't have gotten it for $200.00

My storage war buddies are right now bidding on other units around town on this grey Black Friday 2012. I'm still pissed about grinding the bottom of my beloved Fusion and although I had a small taste of Storage Wars, Storage Wars Live isn't for me.

The Day “Simcoe” top trended on Twitter

Mumford & Sons will be doing a show at the Norfolk County Fairgrounds in Simcoe this summer. This was enough to put Simcoe into the Top Trending Items on Twitter.

It meant something to me because Simcoe was my home for a few months after leaving Humber radio broadcasting school. Mumford had no sons back then. I don’t see the big deal over Mumford & Sons selling out concerts and millions of CDs and downloads in this day and age. I’ve seen them on award shows; in fact, I’ve seen dozens of such bands over the years in my musical travels and travails. I call these bands “Tom Joads With iPhones”. They act, sing and dress like it’s the dirty 30’s but they are using very clean 21^st Century technology to do their thing. However, best of success to any band to achieve what they have so far.

I immediately tweeted that the late Rick Danko of The Band was born near Simcoe and lots of such acts come through their now and then and usually during the Norfolk County Fair. I worked for the radio station once during the fair. My boss/program director was teaching me how to be a great radio broadcaster cuz I clearly wasn’t. That particular day was rainy or cloudy and he went on the air to say: “There’s not much happening at the fair, nobody’s here, it’s pretty dull.” Slap your forehead time. Even I knew you have to find something positive and exciting to talk about to get people in the mood to actually go down there. Talk about a horse, a pig, an ice cream sandwich. He’s still doing his thing in some small market Ontario….

In my day, Simcoe was known for its tobacco crop. Tobacco farmers drove Rolls Royces down Main St. Smoking was a good thing in Simcoe. Simcoe is still famous for its Christmas Panorama, where large statues and decorations are situated around town to the bus tourists’ delight. I lived on a street along the bus tour. Night after night bus lights and horns would fill my tiny room (not far from the above pictured Carillion Tower). One night I got so mad I stormed outside to give the next bus driver the finger. Once outside, I saw a bus driver turn on his interior lights and he was dressed as Santa Claus. I laughed and forgot about the whole thing.

Terry Fox started and ended his marathon while I was working in Simcoe. John Lennon was shot and killed one early December night. My friend Ed McMahon (yes, that’s his real name) was doing the news about to shut down the station at midnight…they did that in those days. He simply read a bulletin that said verbatim “some nut has shot John Lennon in New York City.”

Simcoe during the summer and fall is an extremely pretty town. I learned a lot while working there. About Service Clubs, Port Dover before the bikers took over, living on my own, pancake breakfasts, fresh corn. 

Yes, yesterday Simcoe was a top trender on Twitter.