Welcome to Tuesday.  Last day of March.  Tomorrow's April Fools' Day but the Conficker virus is definitely no joke.  Okay, so if you have a computer - and you're reading this, so I’m guessing you do - you need to know this.

Because I've been inviting you to stay in touch through Twitter, I feel a responsibility to let you know that this virus may be targetting social networks (like Facebook, etc.) and people who are on them.  That would include Twitter, although it was not specifically mentioned in an excellent piece on 60 Minutes on Sunday night.  (Yes, we reported last week that it might all be an April Fools' hoax, but the CBS piece really brought home that this is not a joke).

A friend of ours, Stewart Francis, is an IT expert.  He wrote a great blog on it, with links on how to save your stuff.  Just remember this: whatever you've got, back it up.  Today.  Now.  And read this - please.  Pass this journal on to your friends (www.erindavis.com) and help them.  We have to fight back somehow, and if knowledge is power, you need to empower yourself TODAY.  Here's his blog:

A new version of the Conficker Worm is circulating and word is that on April 1 if you have the worm on your system, then it will activate. The real kicker is that it is sitting on an estimated 12 million computers world wide and nobody except the authors of the worm know what is going to happen.

Security experts do know that on April 1st, the conficker worm will connect to remote sites to pick up a payload of some sort. It could be anything from an April Fools joke to a major destructive force that could steal information or wipe out your hard drive. Did I mention that this effects only Microsoft systems? At least at this point in time, Linux and MacOS are safe.

On January 25, I posted "Millions infected with worm, Conficker/Downadup" urging you to make sure you protect yourself from the Conficker worm. The reality is that you may already have it since estimates indicate that more than 12 million Windows computers are already infected worldwide.

The worm infects machines via USB devices such as a USB key. The worm exploits the autorun feature which is very convenient for a lot of users. Autorun is the feature that will do things like pop up access to the USB key or USB drive that you just inserted.

The Autorun feature was originally identified as a conduit for virus infection in October 2007. It was finally patched on the Microsft Vista operating system in July 2008 with security bulletin MS08-038. However, the problem continued on Windows XP until February 4, 2009. Finally, Microsoft distributed a patch as part of Windows Updates to correct the flaw in Windows XP, Windows 2000, and Windows Server 2003.

If you don't have Windows Automatic Updates enabled, then turn it on NOW. If you are running Windows XP or Windows XP2, consider getting the free upgrade to Windows XP3. There are minor problems in Windows XP3, but they are mostly an annoyance.This will ensure that your system has all the cumulative patches in place up to the release of SP3. Then you only need to capture a small number of patches released after Windows XP3 to be up to date.

For everyday protection, always have a first rate antivirus solution on your system. I recommend Norton Internet Security from Symantec to my friends and family. Make sure you have current definitions. Norton Internet Security delivers patches constantly in the 2009 version rather than waiting for your schedule to kick in - and believe me you need it.

Unfortunately, the number and sophistication of security problems keeps increasing at ridiculous rates. I've seen comments where people are advocating that the virus writers be treated as terrorists. It really is that serious. Microsoft has put up a $250,000 reward for any information leading to the capture of the culprits who engineered Conficker.

Thanks, Stewart.  To read his other blogs, just click here.

Have a safe day.  Isn't it awful that we have to arm ourselves against people who would do this?

Erin

Welcome in to Monday.  Last two days of March and a step closer to warmer weather.  As I walked Pepper and Molly during Saturday's spring sunshine, two words kept thrumming through my head: "April snowstorm".  But I really believe we are out of the woods this year...even if meteorologist Michael Kuss said that only once in the past 70 years have we gotten away without a snow storm after the 1st day of spring.  Still...I believe....

Did you remember to turn out the lights for Earth Hour Saturday at 8:30 pm?  At the cottage I lit several candles by which I read for an hour (fittingly, a book set in the 19th century).  I was reluctant to go back to the movie I had on PVR once that hour was up, so peaceful and beautiful was the room.  So I didn't.

I'm a fan of seeing both sides of an argument (being a Libra, it seems that weighing the scales is part of who I am) but cynics really get tiresome.  I heard of a pizza shop owner in New Jersey who was going to turn on EXTRA lights during Earth Hour just to show how stupid it was.  In fact, I think it probably showed his stupidity.  (Perhaps that's why this one guy was cited in a news story Friday about the whole event - his dim bulb thinking made him an exception.)

All tolled, more than 80 countries and nearly 4,000 cities (250 in Canada) participated.  According to thestar.com, "Organizers claimed about 1 billion people spent the hour in the dark, an exponential increase from perhaps 50 million last year."

While Toronto's hydro use dropped 15% in that hour (double last year's drop), Earth Hour wasn't or isn't about saving energy.  Au contraire, in some cases it takes more juice to power up again than if you'd kept things running.  But it is, as the WWF CEO said, about awareness.  As he put it, one hour of reflection can bring about a lifetime of change.

That hour made me remember some of the tips that we saw in An Inconvenient Truth about cell phone and computer chargers continuing to suck energy all the time they're plugged in.  It made me remember our pleas to Lauren to turn off bedroom and bathroom lights when they're not being used, if for no other reason than to make sure that that stranded polar bear made it to another ice floe.  (Yes, cheap tactic, but it worked.  She could "see" the difference her actions make.)

That hour made me aware of the fact that if we all can commit to one small thing like sixty minutes without power, what else can we all do together for the eventual betterment of this fragile, abused little planet we call home?

As the Star's Daniel Dale put it: "Not a solution, no, but a statement."

Here's to making statements.  Now, by saying "Vote Earth" on Saturday night with a click of the light switch, are we making a loud enough statement to influence governments to sign a new international accord on carbon emissions at the UN Climate Conference in Copenhagen in December?  We'll see.

Have a great Monday.  And thanks for stopping by.  Oh, and on Wednesday, I'll be Twittering a bonus code for extra points towards each day's $1000 prize and this Friday's $10 Grand in Your Hand.  And no, you don't need a Blackberry or iPhone to sign up; a good ole fashioned computer is fine (details below).

Erin

Wow - this Twitter thing is really something.  I mean, when I wrote to my folks about it last weekend, urging them to get on and keep in touch, I said, "You may not have heard about it before, but now that I've mentioned it, you're going to.  A lot."  And boy, was I right!  Every single day this week, it's been a front page or banner story in one of the major newspapers.  It's in the news every day and yesterday, there was a science story about hooking up plants with some kind of sensors so that they can "tweet" messages to their owners like, "Water me, you sloth!" (Or that's what mine would say).

Anyway, if you've signed up to keep up on Twitter with me, thanks!  And if you haven't, give it some thought.  I pass along things like, oh, the Birthday Song (at 5:55 am) so that you can get extra Loyalty Club points and stuff like that.  I'm also going to start tweeting bonus codes, too.  But I'll include them in these journals, too.  After all, you've been doing this with me (in some cases) since March of 2003.  Six years now.  I'm not dropping you - or this journal.  And I know you know that.

Here's something I don't get.  And I know you've been there, done that.

Just after Christmas, Rob and I decided to try an easier way to enjoy our organic popcorn than the pot on the stove.  While I learned that technique from the best - my mom - we've come a long way.  Yes, there's organic microwave popcorn, but we like the old-fashioned way best when we have the time, the coconut oil and the desire to clean up.  So we found this truly wonderful Beaumark popper at The Bay.  How wonderful?  Well, we went back yesterday to buy a second one, so we could enjoy this machine's version of a terrific, healthy snack at the cottage too!

 
If you look inside on the left, you see a small wire (about the thickness of a hanger).  It rotates, sweeping around and stirring up the kernels as the base heats.  The corn pops, a vent in the top allows steam to release, preventing tough popcorn and, to us, it's the best system we've found (and trust me, we've tried 'em all).

Here's where the story goes downhill.  A very friendly clerk at The Bay told us that the store has discontinued selling the poppers.  We laughed, as Rob had predicted that very thing when we walked in.

It's some kind of Murphy's Law: whether it's a cosmetic concealer, a shade of lipstick, or (Rob's contribution to the journal here) Beta VCRs (sorry) and the Jockey undies he really loved, if you like it, there's a very good chance that sooner than later they're going to stop making or selling it.

Here's the good news.  Because I decided to write about this here, I Google Imaged "dome popcorn popper" and up came the image above, which is almost the exact model we have (ours is red).  The one above, though, is a West Bend.  I think I can find a West Bend!

So thank you Google!  Thank you journal reader - for coming here, giving me a forum for a little rant and letting me find what it was I was looking for.  See how it all works out?

Oh, and a post script - just after finishing this journal at 9:46 last night, from the comfort of our little bed, we bought two (great price) West Bend Stir Crazy 8 Quart popcorn poppers for $19.99 each - or about two-thirds off.  One will go with Lauren to Ottawa this summer.  So, thank you www.cayneshousewares.com (a CHFI advertiser at that)!

Have a great weekend.  We'll be Twittering now and then from here to Monday and don't miss the $10 Grand in Your Hand payday after the 7:30 news today.  Another $10,000 - and we do it every single Friday.   At least when it runs out, there's always something equally amazing to take its place.  The way it should be, yes?

Erin

ps - in case you missed it, I've joined the Twitter-net.  www.twitter.com is another way for us to stay in touch and you can even get the latest updates on CHFI events (like the 5:55 am Birthday Song...shh...).  It's fun, it's fast, it's free and it's simple to find me!  Use this phrase: Erin Davis CHFI.  You have to be specific (and case-sensitive) or it'll say it can't find me:( But if you type in Erin Davis CHFI, there I am!

You may not have heard about Purple Day but I thought perhaps you should...(from www.purpleday.org:)

Founded in 2008 by nine-year-old Cassidy Megan of Nova Scotia, Purple Day is an international grassroots effort dedicated to increasing awareness about epilepsy worldwide. On March 26, people from around the globe are asked to wear purple and spread the word about epilepsy.

Why? Epilepsy affects over 50 million people worldwide. That's more than multiple sclerosis, cerebral palsy, muscular dystrophy and Parkinson's disease combined.

Why purple? Lavender is the international colour for epilepsy.  Thank you.

Well, it's Thursday...we're getting there.  So what if it's a fairly rainy weekend we're heading towards?  At least it contains that sweet, sweet word, "weekend".  And that's a little bit of all right.  Lots of rest, lots of quiet time.

Halina - our morning traffic goddess - is fighting a pretty mean cold right now.  And it really seems to be going around.  How is it you get through the entire winter without a cold and then, the weekend before spring arrives, so do the sniffles and sneezes?

The fact that we were confined in a car for three days with someone with a cold in Ottawa (thanks, Lauren's Nathan!) didn't help matters at all.  But it finally seems to be working its way out of me.  Just knocks you on your behind, that's all.  And if you take something to help you not be snorky all through the night, then the alarm that goes off at 4 am sounds like it's been set in another galaxy and is definitely not meant for you!

Not sure what the whole deal is with sleeplessness, hormones and the fun and games known as menopause - from which I am years away, my Dr. tells me...but if I'm still on the air and trying to feel and sound fresh for a 5 am start without a full night's sleep when the Big M (not Frank Mahovlich) arrives, then you can just shoot me.

This business of radio has been full of guys hanging up their headphones in their 60's and even 70's, but when does a morning woman retire, anyway?  I brought that up in a  speech a few weeks ago.  Seems the big challenge now is knowing when to (as designer Bill Blass so eloquently put it) "leave the party".  When is it time to say buh-bye?

It'll be a number of years yet, I can say that.  I'm loving what I'm doing, folks seem to be enjoying what Mike, Ian, Gord and I do, just as much as we enjoying doing it.  I've never felt healthier or more alive.

Just thinking about the possibility of mornings after sleepless nights and hoping they never come!

Have a good one and we'll talk to you here tomorrow.  Thanks for coming by.

Erin

Thank you for coming by today...and for your kind words yesterday.  Seems I might have been responsible for a few mascara messes.  I'm in the process of responding to each note, but I wanted to extend a  special thank you to Tanya S. who wrote to me but whose address wouldn't let me respond - my e-mail to her came back twice as undeliverable.  Tanya says she's never written to anyone on TV or radio before and I wanted her to know that yes, I sure did respond.  Her letter was so lovely.

Well, Dairy Queen cake and Pizza Pizza were the birthday girl's dinner of choice, as it's about all she had time for; rehearsals for Bye Bye Birdie are taking a huge chunk of her time in these final months of Grade 12.  The big shows come in just a month and they'll be here in no time!

For Lauren's 18th, most of the gifts (except for tickets to Yo-Yo Ma - her idol - last week at Roy Thomson Hall) were no-brainers, given that she's setting up house in Ottawa in a few months.  Lots of odds and ends like measuring cups, Pyrex dishes and stuff like that.  So she may be ready - even if we aren't!

I read a great story online this week and couldn't resist passing it on to you.  You may have even heard Mike and me talking about it yesterday morning (if you missed it, we'll likely re-air it on Saturday morning or Sunday evening's "best of" show).  But it got us wondering...what next?

Have you ever sent an e-mail and immediately regretted it?  I confess that once I was writing about a three page missive to somebody who had really, really, finally gotten on my last nerve; the bile that had been building up in me for about a decade finally made its way through my fingers and into an e-mail.  Trust me, that's messy.  Wanting to get the right balance of (hopefully) eloquent outrage, I was editing, rewording, cutting and pasting when suddenly my "low battery" alarm started to beep.  Not wanting to lose this almost finely honed rant, I panicked and hit Control S, thinking that I was SAVING, but instead I was SENDING!

Despite the "Oh $#!%!!!!" heard round the world (or at least around the block), it could have been much worse.  I'd already decided I really, really was going to let this person have it with both hands, but the flow, continuity and justice-laden poetry of it wasn't quite what I'd hoped.  Once I stopped shrieking and started breathing, I realized the e-mail was pretty much fine the way it went.  (And after all that angst, the letter didn't do any good anyway - nothing changed.  But I felt a little better.)

Anyway, here's the story: Google engineers have come up with a "panic button" for people to stop an e-mail that they've sent either in anger or error.  Users of GMail can now hit Undo Send and stop the e-mail from leaving their computer.  Here's the catch: they have all of five seconds.  That e-mail is held while a clock ticks down: five, four, three, two, one, GONE!  To me, that's not enough.  But it'll have to do.

But here's something else the kindly folks at Google have introduced.  In an effort to save users from their drunken, sappy, angry, happy selves, they've come out with something called Mail Goggles.  I'm guessing that's a play on the term Beer Goggles which, for the uninitiated, means members of the opposite sex become more attractive after the beholder has imbibed numerous frosty ones.  Austin Modine from www.theregister.co.uk wrote last October:

"Gmail engineer Jon Perlow is introducing Mail Goggles, a new feature that will tease the bean before ill-conceived late night and weekend emails can be sent out.

"Mail Goggles are presently available in the Labs tab on Gmail settings. Once activated, users can select the days and times when they're most likely to be recreating in a fashion unsuitable for CC'ing the entire office. Default settings are the tender hours between 10 PM and 4 AM on Fridays and Saturday.

"Before an ill-conceived email is allowed to make its rounds, Mail Goggles offers the constitution a checkup by asking a series of math problems that must be solved in 60 seconds. Several levels of difficulty are available for drunken savants."

Have a great day and thanks again for stopping by.

Erin

Okay - this is big fun.  Since posting here yesterday and mentioning on the air that I'm now Twittering (that is still just the silliest verb) I've been answering the question "What Are You Doing?" and updating followers on exciting things happening on the show, behind the scenes stuff and little notes during the day, too.

Oh, honestly, I know I have this journal and everything, but it's kinda fun.  And I love keeping up to date on the friends and family I'm following, too - as well as services like CNN.  At work, Gord said of my enthusiasm over this, "Talk to me in a week!" but the mere fact I'm now in the seventh year of keeping up this daily journal - through thick and thin - should tell you that I'm not one to pick things up today and drop 'em tomorrow.

And today, a big birthday kiss from her dad - and from me - as Lauren goes from this (with her mommy)....

...to this (with her daddy)...

...in the blink of an eye.  Our little one arrived at 7:04 am on March 24, 1991 at St. Michael's Hospital (three weeks early, I might add) and weighed in at 6 lb 12 oz.  Eighteen years ago.  I know I'll sound like every other parent on the planet when I ask, "Where DID the time go????"

Last week, Rob and I were at lunch at Allen's on the Danforth and seated next to us was a large happy group comprised of older folks, young parents and no fewer than three babies under the age of a year.  We'd just ordered when the last two seats were filled by a couple gingerly toting a baby carrier, the contents of which we later learned were a four-week-old baby girl.  As she was cooed at and passed around the outstretched arms at the table, I sat there with tears filling my eyes.

Rob knew I was thinking about Lauren, about her last few months of school, her plans to move to Ottawa and work in late June, and the fact that the music-filled, clothes-strewn room at the end of the hall will soon be empty.  "Did we make the most of every moment?" I asked as I tried to subtly swipe the tears away.  "Did we take it all in?"

He paused for a moment and, instead of giving me the answer he thought I might like to hear, he was honest.

"You might not have.  But I was lucky enough to."  And, of course, he was right.

It's because, except for the week after she was born up until July of that year when I did my part of the morning show from home, I was working through her childhood, especially during those special early morning hours when the baby in your child is not so far away.  Every weekday, Rob got to rouse a sleepy but sunny little girl from her warm bed, make her breakfast, braid her soft blonde hair and walk behind her bike as she wobbled her way to school.

"There's a great dad!" our elderly neighbour would shout from his Leaside porch as Rob, hunched over, accompanied that empty pink bicycle back home from school every morning.  And dear ole Hasty was right.  Rob was a great dad.  He is.

I think I pulled off the working/mother balance as best I could.  The only days my heart really ached were the first days of school when ratings periods precluded being off the air.  And you know, even had I been allowed those few precious mornings off, I would have known that, despite my wish to be with Lauren on her first days of school, my duty was to everyone who was listening, who expected me to see them off, too.  That job was and is an honour as well.

I don't know that I missed much, but it's hard to capture moments when they're spinning by in such a blur.  I can't imagine how parents of more than one child manage to keep it all straight and to remember the special times with any kind of clarity or certainty.  Is this why grandparenting is so, well, grand?  Because, in that rarest of exceptions to the rules of life, we actually do get a second chance?  Chances to cuddle as long and as late as we want, chances to be silly and extravagant and love in even more ways with even fewer limits?

I'm not wishing for a grandchild yet, God knows.  God no!

Nor am I saying that given a chance to do it all over with Lauren, I'd change anything about the past eighteen years.

I just want that second chance.

But do you know what I'm really glad I DID do?  The nights we came home from weekly band practice at 10:30 or so and Lauren was asleep in her crib, I'd go in and watch her sleep, smell her baby smell and listen to the soft, even sounds of her breath.  Rob would come to Lauren's bedroom door and whisper loudly, "Don't you wake her!" knowing full well that within five minutes, he would be joined in bed by his wife carrying their sweet, smiling little baby girl.

I am so glad I woke that baby up.  And to anyone with their own little one, I say this: never miss a chance to cuddle.  Those days are so precious, so few and you will miss them with every fibre of your being when they're gone if you don't take every chance you get to just hold on.  Just hold on.

Happy Birthday, Lauren.  I love you and miss you already.

Momma

Welcome to the first Monday of spring!  Saw a robin on the weekend, but best of all, the cardinals returned to our bird feeder.  Now, while their dusk appearance made a photo impossible, I did find these eggs...

No, of course they're not from cardinals - or even the geese that made a few low flying passes over the water and ice on the Trent this weekend.  These eggs are from chickens.  And the fridge.

I got home from work on Friday and, proudly as a cat with a mouthful of mouse, Rob led me to the kitchen to show me what he'd done.  Apparently (and I'm not 100% sure you can't do this on other days!) on the vernal and autumnal equinox you can stand eggs on their ends.  It has something to do with gravitational pull when the sun crosses the equator.  Now, Rob says he's tried to do it on other days and it doesn't work, and I ask if that's because he thinks he can't.  At any rate, there you go - raw eggs standing at attention to welcome spring.  The excitement in our house just never ends.

Speaking of eggs, birds and the likes, you've heard of Twitter, right?  If not...you're going to.  This instant messaging service lets you post to friends (followers, as they're called) the answer to this question: What Are You Doing?  You are allowed just 140 characters - about two sentences - and everyone from Washington reporter George Stephanopolous and John McCain to John Mayer and David Miller are getting in on it.  I first read about Twitter a few months ago and it piqued my interest because, unlike Facebook, it would require very little time for me to keep up with.  See, with a website (www.erindavis.com) I have enough on my plate.  But Twitter, I can manage.

On the weekend, I e-mailed Mom and Dad and my three sisters and got them to sign up.  That way, we can check in a few times a day, without committing to a long e-mail or lengthy phone call which - while lovely - not all of us can accommodate.

Goodness knows there are work schedules and time differences (two sisters and parents living in BC) to get around.  So now we can just jot a few lines...and in those, I'll be able to tell how the folks are doing, how Cindy's feeling, how busy Leslie is and what Heather's up to.  I really like the idea.  It doesn't replace the weekly catch-up chat I have with my folks or the other e-mails and calls to my sisters, but it just keeps us in closer touch.  I like that a lot.  And now you and I can do it, too.

If you'll sign up and then add me as a "follow" I can Tweet you every now and then, too.  I mean, if you want to keep up, I'll be sending out a note a few times a day just to say hello or with the odd bit of news or thoughts.  I might Tweet during the show, maybe at a movie or a concert...who knows?  I'm as new to this as you may be, but I thought if we both got in on this early, when it's still new, then it might be a fun ride to share together.  I'm even getting Twitterpated on my iPhone.

There's no cost involved, no strings attached and it's so simple even I signed up on my own.  There's a how-to video right there at the website, too - it's well worth watching.  When you get a moment, check it out at www.twitter.com and to find me, use this phrase: Erin Davis CHFI.  You have to be specific (and it appears to be case-sensitive) or it'll say it can't find me.  But if you type in Erin Davis CHFI, there I'll be! 

I think this could be a fun thing - a great way to keep in touch with friends and family - and if you haven't heard of Twitter before right now, trust me....you're going to hear the silly words "Twitter" and "Tweet" at least a dozen times this week, if not today; there's news just this morning about tweets from the space shuttle!

Hope you'll join me.  This could be fun.  Have a great Monday and thanks for stopping by.

Erin

Yay!  Friday!  Another $10 Grand in someone's hand just after the 7:30 am news...big excitement.  And just after that (at 7:44 am) -- SPRING!  Whee!  I couldn't resist including a bunch of my favourite flowers - gerbera daisies.  They're just so sunny and sweet and simply look like springtime, don't they?

I received a bouquet containing a few of those gerberas as well as some pussy willows this week.  The furry buds of the pussy willows are softly dropping all over the table and floor now, but what wonderful memories came with those branches.  I remember as children we'd gather them and then use pastel chalk to colour each tiny puff.  I wonder if kids still do that?

Another little journey down memory lane this week was prompted when I saw an article in one of the newspapers about the spring maple syrup gathering.  'Tis the season, and you can just Google "toronto maple syrup" and you get all kinds of places around and just outside the GTA where kids can see the sap being tapped from the trees, and experience the entire maple magic process.  There was one outing we took as school kids - I can't have been more than seven years old - to our bus driver Mr. Mahoney's sugar bush somewhere around Cumberland, Ontario, near Ottawa.  I just remember the smoke of fires built to boil the sap, the mud under our feet as we trudged through the forest and, best of all, eating thick amber syrup off shaved ice (or was it snow?).  Whatever the case, that school trip made for an experience that has flavoured every drop of maple syrup to hit my tongue ever since.

Whatever you're doing to celebrate spring, be sure to take a moment to do so and to remember the sweetness of the moment that you realized we made it through another one.

Yes, little darlin' - it HAS been a long, cold, lonely winter, but we're through it and on our way to warmer, longer days and the stuff that memories are made of.  Have a terrific weekend and we'll be back with you here on Monday.

Hello and welcome to Thursday.  After yesterday's breath of spring (and on a day calling for a few showers!) we are back into the heavier coat weather today.  The good news is - this is the last full day of winter.

Speaking of which, I enjoyed a bit of a Spring Awakening yesterday.  The ground-breaking, multiple award-winning musical opened last night in Toronto and I attended with a big fan of both the play and its score, daughter Lauren.  I think I realize now why she did not want to see it with her mother.

Set in the late 19th century and based on a once-banned book, Spring Awakening is the hit Broadway story of the sexual coming of age of a group of naïve teens.  Deprived of any facts or details about their maturing bodies and accompanying needs and feelings, they muddle through on their own with sometimes tragic results.

The score is stirring, although I left with not a refrain in my brain to keep me humming on the way home.  I'm simple, I guess, but I still like a hook.  The performances and staging are fresh and brilliant; select audience members (Facebook fans, etc.) are on stage during the entire show, as are the tight and energetic band members.

Still, Spring Awakening will be added to the list of shows that I respect but don't necessarily get. It is, after all, about teenagers and their burgeoning interest and incessant curiosity about sex.  You might say the show is not exactly aimed at me.  To that, I reply that I thoroughly enjoyed Wicked and am not a witch - mostly - so I'll rest my case on that note.

Some have said that Spring Awakening was the most ground-breaking musical since RENT, and they may be right.  To wit: Spring Awakening says right on the ticket that it's not for those under 15 and it isn't.  There's simulated masturbation (in more than one scene) and two episodes of intercourse.  Just so you know....

For the record: RENT was not a favourite of mine, either.  Too much needless pain and angst that left me with an urge to shout, "Get over it!" and so it came as no surprise to me to learn that Spring Awakening's 11 Tony nominations in 2007 were the most nods since RENT.  (Spring Awakening went on to take eight, including Best Musical.)

You should also know that the critics - the real ones, not just somebody who goes to the theatre occasionally as I do - will shower this show with raves today.  The Toronto Star already has, I know.  So it will do well, and you know what?  It should!  If everyone liked the same shows there'd be one theatre in town and it'd always be sold out.

Spring Awakening continues to open eyes at the Canon Theatre until April 19th.  For more info go to www.mirvish.com.  Oh, and from a little pink and white flyer that fell out of the programme yesterday - Dirty Dancing has been extended one week at the Royal Alex until April 5th.  Some tickets are as accessible as $30.

Well, I won't keep you for long today.  I hope you enjoyed that burst of spring weather over the past few days, getting us all ready for tomorrow's actual Vernal Equinox happening at 7:44 am EDT.  Yes, spring actually awakens tomorrow, and I know I'm probably just asking for trouble (putting it in writing) but I think we've had our last "snow day" of 2009.  I really do.

Now, if you'll just e-mail Mother Nature AND Old Man Winter (I hear they've been having a "thing" for the past few years) and tell them the news, we'll be all good!

Take care, have a gentle Thursday and we'll be back here with you tomorrow.

Welcome to Wednesday.  What a sad, bizarre event in the life of a well-known show business family this week.  I'm talking about the ski lesson that turned into tragedy for 45-year-old actress Natasha Richardson, who is reportedly being kept on life support in a New York hospital.

It's such a sad story for Natasha, her husband Liam Neeson, mother Vanessa Redgrave and their entire family.  Natasha's two sons were reportedly with her when she fell while skiing at Mont Tremblant.  You've heard all about it by now, so I won't add to the ink and speculation. It's just so sad, so random, so crazy.  And it reminds us all of how fickle fate truly is.  Because, if you're like me, your thoughts have been of a "been there, done that" nature.

About 16 years ago, as part of a media trip, Rob and I were invited to Banff to ski three of Alberta's spectacular resorts.  Rob was in his glory - who wouldn't enjoy a chance to take in the experience of skiing in the Rocky Mountains?  One answer: me.  I'd never downhill skied in my life, having backed out of a high school trip to Mont Ste Anne at the last minute.  But it was a trip to Alberta and a chance to see my beloved Rockies.  So there I was, 30 years old and on the short skis for the first time in my life.

I was assigned an instructor, a handsome and gentle-natured Argentinian whose name I (appropriately) cannot remember.  After a few pointers on snow plowing, turning and so forth, we were taken to a small slope.  I managed to make it down in one piece with even my dignity intact.

Then my fellow newbie Wendy and I were taken to another, less gradual hill.  Because I still didn't feel confident - but wasn't going to hold back Wendy or disappoint the instructor - I allowed myself to be led to the chair lift (harrowing in itself to someone not really big on heights).

When we got to the top of the hill, I felt so sure I could not do this that I ended up going down behind my patient teacher, holding on to two bamboo rods.  He held the ends of the poles; I skied behind while holding the other ends - sort of an invisible stretcher idea.  But I still managed to fall - at least once - and was a nervous mess by the time we got to the bottom of the hill.  That was enough: I'd shown I was a good sport and had taken part in the skiing part of our trip.  Done.  Bring on the après ski.

The next winter, I got up my nerve and tried to ski again...this time at a resort closer to Toronto.  My luck wasn't any better.  Although I felt less daunted by the surroundings, I still lost control on my way down the "bunny" hill, and since I was going down anyway, decided to crouch into the descent and just enjoy the speed.  Not smart (but fun).

As the snow fence and hay bales at the bottom rapidly approached, I decided I'd better take a dive.  I just leaned and toppled to one side, but managed to hit the back of my head on one of the skis.  I ended up with a bump, a few sore joints and nothing more (besides a bruised ego at my complete lack of coordination, skill and poise).  I haven't been on downhill skis since and I will not ever say "Why didn't I?" when it comes to that particular pastime.

I have thought on occasion how lucky I was that my attempts at skiing didn't end with me, at the very least, in a cast.

Without knowing just how Ms Richardson went from a gentle day of lessons and beginner skiing to lying brain dead in a hospital bed, I can only take from this the real lesson: life is just so short - anything and everything can be so very random.

Take nothing - nothing - for granted and make sure that everyone you love knows that you love them.

And sign your donor card.  Please.  Something good should come from such great sadness.

Erin

Welcome in and Happy St. Patrick's Day!  My favourite memory of this day will always be the one three years ago when I actually got to be part of all of Toronto's fine festivities, and learned first hand how warm and sincere this city's Irish community really is.  Whatever you're doing today, be sure to celebrate being Irish - or even not being Irish!  Erin Go Bragh, I always say...unless I'm at the gym, in which case it's Erin Go Sports Bragh.  Can't be too careful.

There's a guy in my life that I love, who has a heart as big as all Ireland (the Republic and the North), who is helming a huge St. Patrick's themed fundraiser on April 3rd.  I'm talking about Allan Bell, who's in charge of bringing much needed money into one of the finest hospitals we are lucky enough to have in our area.

He's asked me to pass this along, and I  do so in hopes that if you or anyone you know lives in York Region and/or owes Markham Stouffville Hospital a debt of gratitude - or cares to pay it forward - you'll recognize this as your chance to do a great deed and help some very good people raise money during tight times.

I'm volunteering my services as emcee at this year's fun-filled Friday evening at which there's a live auction and a separate draw in which you could win a brand new Toyota (without even turning up a coffee cup rim).  Please, please join us.

Ticket sales could use a bit of a boost and we need you.  Yes, $300 probably feels like a lot for a ticket - but trust me, among fundraisers it's a bargain - and it is an entire evening of entertainment, a marvelous meal and, of course, the best cause possible - our health and that of the Markham Stouffville community.  Give it some thought or pass the word on to friends you think could help.  You can e-mail me for ticket information.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!  And we'll be back with you tomorrow.

Happiness is not a goal; it is a by-product.  [Eleanor Roosevelt]

Well good morning, and welcome to Monday.  And Happy 36th Birthday Gord Rennie!  I'm sure Ian, Tish and Darren will fête him properly today - just give the gift of wings, guys - and we'll all be back together tomorrow. 

No, Mike and I aren't off for the entire March Break - just today.  Rob, Lauren and I took a long weekend just to breathe a bit and to explore Ottawa without a Sunday deadline.  We're back with you tomorrow morning - hoping you'll understand.

So, about Friday...I hope you read Friday's journal (if not, take a second here, would you?) as it explains the Rosalie Award and the crazy nervous excitement of the morning.

Well, my nightmare of being late for the Trailblazers' Breakfast at the Fairmont Royal York just about came true; our Friday qualifier for the CHFI $10 Grand in Your Hand contest didn't call.  And didn't call.  And then, with 1:29 left in her ten minute window, she called!

Breathlessly, she said she'd been getting ready for work...and then decided to go for the $10,000.  A few short commercials later, it was up to fate and darned if that same lucky woman from Burlington didn't go from zero to ten thousand dollars in just a few minutes!  She was over the moon - and no wonder!

As for Mike and me, we were breathless for another reason.  We were about ten minutes late leaving the studio...luckily, traffic was very light and we made it at exactly 8 am.  The breakfast began at 8:15 - blessedly behind schedule - and it went wonderfully well.

Trailblazers' breakfast organizer Liz Janek started things off, then guest speaker, consultant and radio goddess Valerie Geller - one of the two women to have the biggest influence on my career (Julie Adam being the second) - got up and spoke for ten minutes, sharing her substantial wisdom with the assembled members of the radio community.  Then it was Lauren's turn.

With the aid of her dad and some photos on the big screen behind me, Lauren touched on various highlights in my career - and of course, the odd little bump - and she was just so good.  My heart was in my throat for her the entire time, but it was pretty much flawless (her first Powerpoint presentation, before an entire room of broadcasters, at age 17!) and her dad and I were so proud.

Lauren got to introduce the music and radio industry legend Rosalie Trombley, who spoke about her own trials and adventures as a true radio trailblazer - again, the details are in last Friday's journal - before presenting me with a large thick glass disc, the Rosalie Award.

I'll have to "go to the tape" at some point to remember just what else transpired, as it was one of those "out of body" experiences.  But I did get through a brief speech, and the list of things that I learned both as a broadcaster and a human being during this wonderful adventure in a life and job I love.

I learned on the weekend that CHFI has posted my speech on our website.  You can click here if you have a few minutes to watch it.  I edited as much as I could - both in advance and on the fly - as the breakfast was going a little long, but I think the speech is pretty much intact!  (I'm sorry Lauren's intro isn't there.)

A few more photos to share with you today:

Unfortunately, we have no photos of Lauren at the podium, since her Dad, the official photographer of erindavis.com, was busy running her Powerpoint.

Thank you for coming by.  Mike and I will be back with, you, Ian and Gord tomorrow.

Erin

What?  Another Friday the 13th?  I'm not the least bit superstitious about this date; the last one had Mike and me in Florida, and about the only bad luck we had was a delayed flight.  So much for that.

Today, instead of spreading more Disney magic, we're giving away the first of many, many CHFI $10 Grand in Your Hand paydays.  Yep, another slice of the big Pizza Pizza grand prize gets handed out today.  Can't wait.

This morning is going to be a full out blur.  It started even before my usual 4 am alarm, when I got up extra early to do more than my usual 10 minutes of hair, 10 minutes of makeup regimen.

Today it's hair, a few little lash extensions, makeup, blow dry, curling iron (or straightener, depending on which way the hair goes) and then the real challenge: getting into panty hose at that hour of the day.  Argh.  It's always kinda fun when you're not totally dry from the shower, either.  You know what I'm talking about.  I'm just lucky three nails didn't go through one of the legs, and I managed to get 'em up.  I hate the things with a passion most women reserve for mammograms (which I don't mind, strangely enough)!

Then, I'll pull on a stretchy navy dress (trying desperately not to get white deodorant slashes all the way down to my midriff), button up a new cream jacket, slip on a new pair of shoes (probably a mistake - I'll know later) and off I go to a gathering of (predominantly) women in broadcasting called the Trailblazers' Breakfast at the Royal York Hotel.

Now, if you're wondering how that is, when you probably heard me on the air this morning, that's where the REALLY hairy part comes in.  (And from here on in - I'm writing this in the positive, future tense, cause it hasn't unfolded yet, as of this moment on my computer!)

We start the show as usual, Mike, Ian, Gord and I, from 5 am on.  Then at 7:30, after a name is called for $1000, we line up the other contestants who decided to bank their money, and prepare to draw for the CHFI $10 Grand in Your Hand contest.  If all goes according to plan (gulp), we should be done by 7:45 or so.  Please, God.  Let us be done by 7:45.

At that point, I'll grab my purse and my partner - yes, Mike is coming with me! - and we'll run down to catch a ride to the Fairmont Royal York Hotel, where the breakfast will be just about to begin.

Now, why, you may be wondering, would we be taking part in a breakfast during our show?  Well, as you may have heard Mike mention yesterday, it turns out that I'm getting an award today.  It's the Rosalie Trombley award, named for an amazing woman who broke gender barriers and changed the radio and record business in the 1970's and beyond - and with whom I had the brief pleasure of working at CKLW in the 80's.  The "Rosalie" is a great honour, and I'm tickled, excited and nervous about this morning.

See, Lauren - yes, little baby Lauren - is going to get up and, with Powerpoint Presentation help from her dad, is briefly telling my story to the tables of women and men attending the breakfast.

It's most appropriate that she do the introduction, as she's been with me for most of this ride, she is exactly the age I was when I began working in radio and she represents the new generation of broadcasters.  My brief acceptance speech includes a "Letter to My Daughter" - things that, as a mom and radio survivor, I can tell her (and of course, other young women in the room) in hopes of making the journey a little easier.

My job will be to not cry.  We'll see.  But this is a big honour and I am humbled, joyful and very, very grateful.  In addition to the company of special friends and my husband and daughter, one of the nicest parts of the day is that my partner Mike is not only joining me there this morning but asked if he could.  He wanted to be there.

What a kind and generous thing for him to do, when he could have easily stayed behind to do the show, as Gord and Ian will have to do when Darren swings into the air chair(s) at 7:45 am or so!  I wish the two best producers and friends any broad(caster) could ask for were able to be there, but the show's always the most important thing.  (If it wasn't, I wouldn't have been there at all today.)

YOU are the reason for any accolades, ratings, success or enjoyment we have at CHFI and nothing stands in the way of that.  Among the list of people I'll thank today, you are at the top.  And I mean it.

I hope you don't mind me sharing this day with you, but since you've been with me along so much of this amazing journey - including the downs and outs - it seems only right to share this high with you today too.

Have a wonderful weekend and I'll be back with a journal for you including a few pictures here on Monday.  If you're going away for March Break, have a great, safe time and we'll miss you.  In the meantime, Rob, Lauren and I are off this weekend to Ottawa to start exploring options for her future, including housing, etc..

I think by the time we drive past Kingston, I should start breathing again - just in time to start thinking about Lauren moving out, for heaven's sake!  Just how tall do you have to BE to ride this emotional roller coaster, anyway?

Erin

Welcome to Thursday...and winter - again.  Yes, I know that spring isn't officially here for another week-and-a-half, but we can't be blamed for getting our hopes up every now and then.  I think hope is what keeps us going.

And optimism.  I was interested to learn that Michael J. Fox, who is waging a very public battle with Parkinson's Disease, is going to be hosting a TV show about the importance of optimism.  It airs on May 7 and the reason that date sticks in my mind is that it's the day Mike and I are going to be on air for 12 hours straight, in our "Shelter From the Storm" fundraiser for the Canadian Women's Foundation.  It's not a show we look forward to with joy, quite honestly, but it's a day of good, hard, solid work and we know how many people at the Canadian Women's Foundation benefit from it.

Doing the Shelter show is not only an honour, but as people who have been given so very much - including airwaves to use to raise money and awareness - it's our duty.  (And don't forget to watch Oprah this afternoon or evening - depending on your time zone - called "The Truth About Dating
Violence."  If you have already gone to work and it's too late to set the PVR, a Peterborough channel airs the previous day's Oprah the next day, so you can catch it tomorrow.)  Share it with your daughter, your son, anyone in the household.  'Cause if domestic violence hasn't touched someone in your family, there's a very solid chance that, one day, it will.

So...back to optimism.  Maybe I'm nuts, but I find myself looking down a lot these days.  Not in the mouth, but on the sidewalks.  You know - where those little filthy black islands of stubborn ice and snow remain, covered in a winter's worth of cigarette butts, water bottle and coffee cup lids, and assorted other detritus.  Why, would you ask, am I scanning them every time I pass them?  Because I'm sure that one day soon there'll be money - perhaps even a dollar or two - that's been sitting buried in ice all winter like a hidden hockey talisman, just waiting for me to find it.

And you can bet your dirty digits, I'll bend down and dig that coin out, wipe it on my jeans and put it in my pocket.  (Am I the only one who still picks up pennies?  I always feel a little bit of a thrill when I see Lincoln.  Into the "travel wallet" it goes!)

So there you go.  If you're ever around CHFI at Bloor and Jarvis and see a woman pulling that wobbly little suitcase I told you about, and looking at dirty ice pods, that'd be me.  And if you spot me, well, there!  I guess you will have found a looney, too, won't you?

Take care and have a great day.  Tomorrow - a pretty exciting morning - and I'm not just referring to our $10 Grand in Your Hand contest.  Nope - it's a big day and I can't wait to tell you about it.  Talk to you then.

Rihanna and Chris Brown.  Two people I'm betting about half the people reading this right now never heard of, before the incident on the eve of this year's Grammy Awards, in which Brown allegedly beat his girlfriend.  This couple, especially the beautiful and talented Rihanna, was everywhere.  But now their names are synonymous with abuser and abused and, of course, a tornado of rumours surrounds the couple.  Are they back together - even married?  Was she pregnant (doubtful, given that the story is on the front page of the rag tabloid Star)?  And on and on.  Tomorrow, Oprah is turning her considerable light on to the darkness that is domestic violence, with the strong words that if someone hits once, they'll hit again - and that love doesn't hurt.

I'll tell you in a few paragraphs why I'm on this topic today.  First, a brief summary of the situation in case you've been off the planet for the last month:

19-year-old R & B singer Chris Brown was charged with assault and making criminal threats following the highly publicized fight with his 21-year-old popstar girlfriend.  At last word, Brown is seeking a plea deal on charges related to his alleged beating and website TMZ.com reports Brown will plea guilty to a misdemeanour charge with no jail time.

According to web news sources yesterday, his lawyers were prepared to fight the existing charges on the basis of a claim that Rihanna instigated the violence when she started slapping and striking Brown numerous times while he was driving, after seeing a text message to Brown from a previous girlfriend.

The Los Angeles County district attorney's office says, if convicted on the current charges, Brown's sentence could range from probation to more than four years in prison.

I honestly think this is a Must Read for anyone with a daughter, sister or friend who could now or may one day be in an abusive relationship.  It could even be you, God forbid.

So please take a moment, read this and pass it on to anyone in your life you think might be able to benefit from it (or just my web address: www.erindavis.com).  I know that this piece will most definitely resurface in two months' time during our "Shelter From the Storm" fundraiser.

This is from the authors of a book called Yes Means Yes! Visions of Female Sexual Power & a World Without Rape.  This blog was written by Jaclyn Friedman and Jessica Valenti.  I'll have the website link for you at the end.
 

Thank you for taking time to read this and pass it on.  Here's the link to that blog, Yes Means Yes and if you have comments, you may wish to leave them there.

Welcome to Tuesday.  Boy, that was an unpleasant way to start the day (weatherwise) yesterday - all gray and wet and mucky.  So much for the spring tease.  Still though, we ended up on the plus side of things where the temperature is concerned, so thank God for tender mercies.

Hey - if you ever want to start up a conversation, I have just the perfect thing for you.  Not a baby or a puppy, but just a tiny suitcase on wheels.

Three days a week, I pull this dufflebag-sized suitcase to work.  In it are my gym clothes, running shoes, a hairbrush, iPod earbuds, water bottle, two or three almost-finished Entertainment Weekly magazines and a little makeup bag.  It's obvious, when you see the contents, why I don't sling something over my shoulder - I'd be at the chiropractor every second day.

That little bag on wheels is also great for resting my oversized purse on and carrying whatever else I am schlepping to or from work.  But it's also turned out to be a great conversation starter.

Not one day goes by that I don't get a comment from a co-worker at Rogers radio or a stranger en route to the gym that awaits me through a long tunnel in another of the buildings that make up our Rogers Campus.  Usually it's along the lines of, "Running away from home?"

I always laugh and say that it's my gym bag, which really sounds like I ought to do more strength training on my arms and shoulders.  At any rate, I never mind the question.  It makes me laugh inside.

Why?  Because - and if you know me at all, you'll know this is true - I'm always mentally planning my next trip.  Next to being hunkered down at the cottage, I love nothing more than seeing new sights and experiencing new people, sounds, smells and tastes.

It was while we were on a trip that I heard some words that have resonated with me ever since.  Rob and I were in Sedona, Arizona last Christmas and a song I'd never heard by Jackson Browne came on the radio.  The lyric that touched me most was this: "I can't help feeling I'm just a day away. From where I want to be...."

Turns out the song is "Bright Baby Blues" (I just searched and found that last night) and those words couldn't be truer.  Always moving, always searching, but hopefully - hopefully - aware enough to be in the moment and to enjoy this place in which I find myself now.  Just keeping one eye on the road, that's all.

Take care and thank you for coming by.  If you see somebody pulling a little black and white suitcase that rocks (no, it literally rocks - the wheel base is too narrow), that's me.  I'm on my way somewhere - and if it's just the gym today, that's okay too!

Good morning!  I hope that the hour of sleep we missed on the weekend isn't wreaking too much havoc with your body clock.  I know it does mine, but at least my alarm went off at 4 am today instead of 2:50 am, the time at which it usually rouses Rob and me when we head out from the cottage on Monday mornings.  Wintry weather warnings and/or watches scared us into coming back last night...better safe than sorry, for sure.  We have a busy show today and I don't want to miss a minute of it.

Hey - besides the record-shattering temperatures that we enjoyed on Friday, do you need one more sign of spring's imminent arrival?  How's this - I got a mosquito bite on Saturday!

Now, I'll forgive you if you wonder who's been messing with the well water at the cottage (okay, besides the eleventy jillion quarries they're digging up there), but I swear to you, I got bitten.  And because I knew you still wouldn't believe me, I have a nice red squish on our bedroom wall.  Yes, there we were, lying in bed Saturday night, when my shoulder started to itch.  I scratched.  Then I scratched some more.  And no sooner did a small welt start to form, than I looked up above the light that rests atop our headboard and saw the long, plump shadow of my greatest, tiniest enemy - that hated cottage critter, the mosquito!  I stood atop our pillows and with some trepidation (after all, I hadn't annihilated a mosquito in several months), I flat-handed him into his next incarnation.

Just then, Rob told me that he'd killed not one, but two inside the cottage earlier in the day.

What the -- ?  How can it be that we have about three nice days over the past several weeks and these little suckers are already hatching and biting and sucking and fleeing?  If I want a mosquito bite in March, I'll do it the hard way and fly to a nice warm country where one expects to have to pay the price for sunshine and warm climates.  But at the cottage - when there's snow on the ground, a fire on the hearth and a roast in the crock pot?  Mamma don't think so.

Hey, speaking of warm climates and mosquito bites, have you noticed those commercials warning us about malaria and bites have stopped mentioning the Dominican Republic by name?  I mean, for the past several months, we've been hearing those ads, and now they've pulled back and made it much more generic.  I can only imagine how incensed the folks in PR in the DR were with those ads saying, "You've planned your vacation, but did you plan on malaria...?".  That's a real enticement, isn't it?

We found out the hard way that a part of Mexico we visited last year (a section of the Mayan Riviera) is also a malaria risk zone.  This we learned when we went last September to give blood and when we answered the question about where we'd travelled, Mexico got us ruled out.  Just a word to the wise (and the donor) - if you're intent on giving, check with Canadian Blood Services to make sure you're not accidentally taking yourself off the donors' list through your vacation destination.

In the meantime, you take care and enjoy this 9th day of March.  Today marks the return of the CHFI Pizza Pizza "10 Grand in Your Hand" contest and we can't wait.  It all begins to unfold just after 7:30 this morning - good luck and have a great day.

A few notes before today's big T.O. Birthday journal.  If you're watching Equator HD this weekend, they're celebrating International Women's Day.  I took part in some of the between-show promos and such, so you might keep an eye out, just for fun.  ED in HD could be a very scary prospect indeed.  Oh, and the film The Color Purple will air in HD too!

Also, yes, this is the final day for Walt Disney World Resort trips.  Believe me when I say I wish every family, couple, listener - everyone who's sent me an e-mail over the past month - could win.  But we have a bonus trip to give away today too - listen at 7:30 (as usual) for details!  And the $10 Grand in Your Hand contest with Pizza Pizza is back Monday.

Hey!  Happy 175th Birthday, Toronto!  Yes, on this day in 1834, the Town of York became the City of Toronto.  All kinds of celebrations are planned around town today, and according to www.ontarioheritageconnection.org:

"A day-long party in Nathan Phillips Square will usher in the 175th anniversary of the incorporation of the City of Toronto. City Hall will turn into an exhibition hall featuring art installations, the spoken word, dance and music that celebrate the heritage of the city. Special programming will commemorate the City's early history. City museums will be free all day."

In celebration of this big event, I present to you my list:

10 things I Love about T.O.

1.    The BIG ONE - the CN Tower.  Even looks like #1.  From that tummy tingling, ear popping elevator ride to the top and the Plexiglas observation deck, to the four star revolving dining room that awaits you at 360 The Restaurant, this tower truly soars.  It even boasts the (Guinness record book accredited) world's highest wine cellar!  The CN Tower is a landmark, a jewel and a great experience all wrapped in one "big pencil" - that's what Lauren called it as a kid...which is so much better than the comparison the rest of the world has been giving this upstanding edifice for the past 30+ years!

2.    TWO World Series!  "Touch 'em all, Joe"...remember those heady days in the 80's and 90's of waking up anxious in the morning until you heard how our team or the Yankees and Red Sox had done the night before?  Oh, to live and die with a team again - something Leafs fans feel acutely year in and year out more than Raptors, Jays, Argos, Rock and Toronto FC fans combined....

3.      THREE is for Theatre (or kinda sounds like it) - the vibrant and truly world class theatre scene in Toronto.  I mean, at this moment you can enjoy any of these hit shows right here in our town: Sound of Music, Color Purple, Jersey Boys, We Will Rock You, Dirty Dancing and Second Cityproductions and all feature enormously talented casts and first rate productions.  Do Torontonians realize how lucky we are?  All together now: a big Standing O for Mirvish Productions and Dancap and all of the other impresarios who are trying so hard in trying times to put fannies in seats and smiles on faces.

4.    FOUR: THE FORCES - Toronto Police, fire fighters, TTC security and everyone whose job it is to keep us safe.  Yes, bad stuff happens to good cities, but for the most part, I think we feel pretty good about living in Toronto.  Now get more guns off the streets, Mayor Miller, and keep fighting for tougher laws.

5.    TORONTO'S ALIVE...with history. Need proof?  March is Egypt Month at the ROM, bringing some of the most important and rich artifacts of the ancient world to the people of this city.  And whether you love the Crystal or not, as always, it's what's inside that counts.  Been there lately?  And what girl doesn't appreciate a museum dedicated entirely to shoes?!?  Thank you Bata!

6.    ESCAPING TO "THE STICKS": look, I'd be lying if I didn't say that sometimes the best part about living in Toronto is seeing it in your rearview mirror.  The high-paced vibe that makes the city so exciting can also be exhausting, and only by getting out of the city - as so many do on weekends - can you truly appreciate it upon returning.

7.    MULTI-CULTI HEAVEN: Toronto is where people from around the world have come to make new lives and settle in a new land.  In so doing, they've brought with them the tastes, aromas, sounds and traditions of lands that most of us just dream of seeing.  Toronto opened its collective arms to the women, men and children of the world who were seeking something better.  By choosing this city, they made us better, too.

8.    SHOPPING THAT'S GREAT: Whether it's Yorkville or Yorkdale, St. Lawrence Market or Kensington Market, the shopping in Toronto is as varied as its people.  From outrageously priced haute couture to the wicked bargains of the now defunct Hadassah Wizo Bazaar, if you know where to look, Toronto is every shopper's dream.

9.    WEATHER'S FINE...and when it is, there is no place like Toronto!  The panorama of colour and texture in the landscape as you drive the DVP in the autumn, the fresh green tree tops as the dirty gray of late winter makes way for spring and oh, the steamy hot summer days that send us to the beach, Harbourfront, the Danforth or anywhere that strolling is not just necessary, but encouraged!  For that other season, well, at least we have the PATH.

10.   YOU - A PERFECT 10.  It's an amazing thing to walk through a mall or along a street or sit in a subway car and have people who listen to CHFI or have seen our TV ads come up and talk.  It takes the "big city" chill out of Toronto for me, that's for sure.

I remember coming here from Belleville as a 19-year-old to pick up a college radio award.  I was thinking, "I could never work here; this is Toronto radio, for crying out loud!"  But a few short years later, there I was, and now - 25 years after moving to Toronto, I'm still here!

This is my city, where my husband and I have raised a great kid in the public school system, where we take transit and curse the traffic and walk for miles along clean sidewalks to get to amazing restaurants, bountiful shopping and the  wonderful sights and experiences I've listed above.  I am so grateful to be allowed to live here, to raise my family here and to call Toronto home.  But most of all, I'm honoured to be sharing a part of your day.  That's why - beyond anything else - I love Toronto best.

Let's all celebrate this great city today together.  And while we're looking back, don't forget the clocks go AHEAD tomorrow night before you go to bed.  Talk to you Monday, sleepy head!

Erin

Welcome in - and thanks for coming by.  I am so excited to tell you about the exhilirating musical that Rob and I experienced yesterday at the Canon Theatre (Yonge south of Dundas).

Now, you know me.  I won't rave about something unless I really love it and feel you probably will, too.  Especially with people cutting back on discretionary spending, you want a guarantee that if you're going to buy a ticket on something, you're really going to enjoy it (Maple Leaf games, curiously enough, notwithstanding).  Well, let me tell you about this hit musical, based on a Pulitzer Prize-winning Alice Walker book, called The Color Purple.

Set in rural Georgia at the end of the 19th century, this wonderful, tender, stirring musical is faithful to the story that eventually was brought to the big screen in 1985 by Steven Spielberg and starred Oprah Winfrey, Whoopi Goldberg and Danny Glover to name just a few.  I was thankful to have forgotten so many of the ins and outs of the film, so that many of the elements of the storyline came as a delightful surprise as they unfolded.

The music for this show encompasses gospel, jazz and blues; it is joyously layered with harmony upon harmony and dares you to keep a still foot for the show's 2-1/2 hour duration (plus intermission).  The Color Purple is the musical tale of Celie, a young woman traded for a cow by her father to the bully "Mister".  Separated by years and miles from her beloved sister (the siblings are shown in this shot below from the Broadway show), Celie barely survives until she meets the outlandishly vibrant woman with whom her husband is in love.

I won't share any more details, except to say there are laughs and great moments of joy, but you will also want to keep a tissue on hand.

It's a soul and spirit fulfilling show with exceptionally talented performers - many of them from the Broadway production of The Color Purple.  It is only in town until March 14th and if you're even considering going to the Canon to see this show, do not miss it.  It'll do your heart good, raise your spirits and remind you of the indominitable joy that lies deep within each of us.

It is truly a rare, uplifting experience.  Tell me that you can't use one of those right now.

Oh, and what does the title The Color Purple mean?  In context, it's used by one character as proof to the downtrodden Celie that God does exist and that He has created so much beauty that it must really tick him off when people walk by a field with the color purple in it and don't notice it.  That's the gist of it.

For info on tickets - and I don't know how many there are right now but you should check, just the same - go to www.mirvish.com.  And I'll be back with you here tomorrow.  Take care.

Welcome to Wednesday.  Today, Rob and I will fill an afternoon with theatre as we go to the Canon Theatre to enjoy The Color Purple, presented by her O-ness, Ms Winfrey.  I'll fill you in tomorrow, but it's been many years since I saw the movie, based on Alice Walker's Pulitzer Prize-winning story.  I am looking forward to becoming reacquainted with this emotional musical.  So's Rob - we like to have the occasional date.  And it seems his life has gotten busier than mine of late (!) so we don't have that many evenings together.

Thank goodness this cold snap is passing through.  Back to temperatures a little less torturous today and tomorrow and possibly even up into double digits on Friday!  That will be a welcome switch, for sure, if it actually comes to pass.

It all gets to be a bit much sometimes, doesn't it?  I couldn't summon my usual strength or stamina at the gym yesterday - just basically going through the motions - and there wasn't a logical reason.  After all, I'd had the same breakfast I always do (protein bar, Greens Plus drink, barley cereal with frozen berries) and about the same amount of sleep as usual the night before.  But the constant barrage of brutal economic news, coupled with brittle weather just sometimes combine to, as Rick Mercer puts it, "take the good right out of ya".

Not a week goes by that someone we know isn't fired; there's little doubt that the carpet is worn threadbare in front of the "Hang in There" section in the card stores.

Some days it's hard to keep your sunny side up which, basically, is my job.  Of course, while nobody wants to wake up to bubble heads who are overdosing on Prozac as they bounce around finding the good in everything, Mike and I are charged with the responsibility of (realistically) putting a smile on your face every morning.  It's a big task some days, but one we're up to and honoured to have, quite frankly.  And I'd love to think that with the help of Ian, Gord, fresh and familiar music and some pretty amazing contests - like Disney and the return of the $10 Grand in Your Hand next Monday - we manage to do that.

I find, too, that a dose of perspective helps go a long way these days.  I always said in my "Livin' Out Loud" speeches, during the survival part of being fired, that losing a job is not like losing a child or a spouse or a breast.  You get through it.  You do.  And you will.  We'll all survive these hard times and, although many will come through changed by what they've endured, if there's support and aid and patience and kindness, that change may even end up being for the better.  I guess we won't know 'til we get through, will we?

And the best advice of all, whether you're watching your retirement savings dwindle, your stock fall like the temperatures the last few days or your future become increasingly uncertain, is this: "If you're going through hell, keep going."  Some guy named Winston Churchill, who I think just might have known a few things about persevering, gave us that quote.  You may know that Churchill was also known to suffer from depression, his "black dog" he called it.  There's no doubt that that saying, if he truly lived by it, held him in good stead, as it will all of us today.

March Forth, indeed.  Keep going.

Well, hello again.  Glad you've popped in for a few minutes.

Have you checked your e-mail yet?  How many in your inbox have those letters FW on the front of them?

I have mixed feelings about forwarded e-mails.  While some of them have great info in them (like one from Darlene yesterday that sent me to this cool site: www.allmyfaves.com) others are, while well-intentioned, just too time-consuming for someone who receives sometimes close to 100 e-mails a day - most of which require responses.

Again yesterday - as I do every single day - I received an e-mail with the tag line begging you to send it to everyone you know.  Of course it was a hoax (about a missing girl) and it took just 2 seconds for me to type the girl's name and the word "hoax" in a Google search line, to determine that.

Please, please, please, if something implores you to send it to everyone you know, that is your FIRST HINT that it's a hoax.  Your heart is good - I know that, I do - but please take a second and check it out.  Also, if the body of the e-mail mentions Snopes.com or 60 Minutes or 20/20 or anything meant to throw you off the trail just a bit, ignore it.  Check it first.

That e-mail yesterday reminded me of a "forward" I received from journal visitor Edwina.  Yes, of course, some forwarded e-mails are valuable, enjoyable and just fun - nobody's saying there aren't some great ones making the rounds!  But I'm sharing this "refresher course" with you here so that perhaps you can pass it on to the people who populate your life, your inbox and/or both, and we can make the world - and our computers - just slightly less cluttered places.  I was grateful for this reminder, too.  Amidst the stuff you already know are some pretty good little tips.

Please read this piece.  It's worth it.  Thank you.  Erin
 

Good morning - it's March!  Yes, rather than coming in like a lamb or a lion (as per the old weather saying), it would appear that this March is coming in like a polar bear.

All weekend long during the mercifully plentiful quiet moments at the cottage, I could hear this sound.  This "Thunk, thunk, thunk," that was persistent, but not rhythmic.  The sound resembled that of a paddle hitting the side of a canoe, and since we have one sitting in backyard, I thought perhaps that's what I was hearing.  Closer inspection by Rob proved that wrong.

We determined that it was the reversal of the melting process that had begun during last week's springlike temperatures.  With the rapid freeze that set in on Friday, the Trent Canal just out our door was shifting and shunking and adjusting to the massive temperature changes.

With the ice and its heaving weighing on our minds, we awoke yesterday to a chilling sight.  Just a few hundred metres from our back deck, upon which we look every Saturday and Sunday morning expecting only to observe squirrel and bird activity, was a flock of brightly clad rescue workers.  Having spilled out from at least four big red emergency trucks, the workers in their hulking protective suits had made their way to a large hole in the ice near a bridge not for from our northern solace.  As soon as we recognized what appeared to be going on, our hearts leapt to our throats.

Last year in that same place, Rob and I had observed a daredevil (idiot?) jumping a large patch of open water with his snow machine.  At first we were shocked, then just angry that as witnesses and humans, if this mental mosquito had gone through the ice, it would fall upon us to try somehow to save him.

Yesterday morning we put two and two together and came up with a drowning victim.

As Rob hooked up the dogs for their walk, I suggested he head down that way and suss out what was going on.  While he walked, I called the newsroom at our sister station in Toronto, 680 News, to give them a heads up on what was probably going to be a recovery operation given that the many rescuers (accompanied now by an airboat like one would see on CSI: Miami) were certainly taking their time.  They gathered around this hole, a stretcher at the ready, but from my vantage point at least, weren't able to reach the victim of this wintertime tragedy.

After an unusually lengthy walk, Rob and the pups finally returned.

"Well?" I said, anxiously, "What's happening?"

"Well, the house down the road is lowering its price, and Molly pooed three times."

"No!  I mean, with the rescue!"

"Oh," Rob replied, between blasts as he blew his nose, "it was a training exercise."

With relief and embarrassment, I laughed and drilled him for all the details: it was a joint endeavour between two townships and...that was about it.  I immediately called Con Stevenson at the editor's desk at 680.

"Con," I said, "it looks like I'm not going to get the Buckeye News Hawk Award this time out.  It was a training exercise...so, thankfully, no emergency."

Con was great and thanked me just the same, letting me off the hook with a minimum of embarrassment.  (On a Sunday, any news is worth investigating to spare you going with the same lead all day long.)

The whole adventure made a few things clear to me: that the ice we gaze upon for most of the winter has a life of its own and the thumps and shunks we heard on the weekend were just a reminder.  Sometimes interesting things actually do happen in the sleepy little town of Bolsover, Ontario.  And finally, when you add two plus two, it can still come up a big fat five.  Don't call in a potential story until you have at least a few more pieces of the equation.

Have a great day today and we'll talk to you here tomorrow.