Erin's Journals

I’m hearing of snow and ice pellets in my former home province. I thought today maybe you could use something a little warming to the soul. It’s a story that will perhaps even put a song in your heart for a bit today. There’s a story on the BBC that I came across recently and it rang so many bells I thought I was living near a fire hall. This is surely going to resonate with you on some level, too.
 
The headline read: “BBC Music website offers dementia lifeline” and basically it tells the story of people contributing, via a website, the songs that made a difference in the lives of their loved ones.
 
The selections can be regional (in Canada’s case, it might be a tune that’s been popular for generations in Newfoundland but that someone in, say, Saskatchwan might never have heard of). It could be a particular singer like Leonard Cohen or Jann Arden that a patient really cares for. The reason for these songlists and contributions? They’re just another way of opening a window into a mind slowly closing because of Alzheimer’s or other forms of dementia.
 
Fourteen years ago this month, we lost our dear friend Carl Moase. Carl was only in his seventies, but had been struck by brain cancer, which may or may not have been an echo of prostate cancer he’d suffered years earlier.
 
Carl was like a dad to my Rob; they were more alike in many ways than my husband and his real father. They were also bandmates; Carl was the bass singer in the quartet that formed the original front vocal line of our band Generations. Most of all, he was a close friend to all of the band members (his wife Helen is still like a surrogate parent to us, as she was surrograte grandmother to Lauren). 
 
What does this have to do with dementia? A fellow quartet vocalist, Jack Marsh, had been living with Alzheimer’s for several years by the time Carl took his final bow. But the day that we held a celebration of Carl’s life and our band assembled to play some of our favourite songs in a bar setting afterward, we all witnessed the incredible power of music. Because, although he could barely remember anyone’s name in our tight-knit group, there stood Jack just bellowing out the songs we played for 20 years, with nearly every word perfect. Or as perfect as any of us ever got ’em!
 
We were all bug-eyed as we saw and heard Jack’s performance. I’d long known of the power of music in the mind and the indelible associations we can make. Who doesn’t remember a song they heard right after a break-up or the tune playing when you got the best or worst news of your life? Apparently, according to a phenomenon known as the “music bump,” the songs we heard between the ages of 10 and 30 are the ones most likely to have the biggest impact.
 
There’s anecdotal evidence enough to fill the Smithsonian, and here’s that article from the BBC. I found it absolutely fascinating and how I’d love if the CBC followed the BBC’s example and helped us all compile playlists for life. I already have mine: it’s Channel 18 on SiriusXM – The Beatles Channel. It’s really all I need, love.
 
And you? 
 

Well, that was a surprise: went to see A Star is Born a second time. I haven’t seen a movie twice in close succession like that since Dunkirk. But we were in downtown Sidney, BC (our closest town), it was $6 matinee Tuesday and we had nothing to do. Perfect. And better still, I enjoyed it more the second time around, having a new appreciation for the music and Bradley Cooper’s massive achievements in that area, as well as direction and acting. Of course, Gaga left us gaga again.
 
If you’re going to see it, again I’ll bring up the F-bomb warning. But it’s a good movie. A really good movie. For what it’s worth, I saw the 1976 version on the weekend and just didn’t enjoy it. I can never forget I’m watching Barbra Streisand when I’m seeing a movie with her in it…and that’s a movie where you just want to get lost in the possibility of it all. Nope. But Kristofferson was great.
 
When we emerged from the theatre we were treated to a Christmas scene right in downtown Sidney. 
 

 
No, it wasn’t a Calgary weather moment; they’re making a Hallmark movie. And guess what? We’re one of the locations. I know; if you’re in Toronto you’re saying, “Big deal…we’re every movie’s backdrop.” Yeah, I remember!
 
Anyway, it’s called Christmas Bells are Ringing and since it’s probably going to start airing in just over a month, if anyone sees it on the schedule, would you give me a shout? Of course, you’ll be forgiven if you miss it; this is one of just 36 Christmas movies Hallmark is putting out in 2018 (if the internet is to be believed). 36? I don’t even send out that many Christmas CARDS never mind watch that many movies! Bet boy and girl end up together. Or they find some cool Hallmark ornaments and buy out the store…? 
 

 
FYI, Christmas Bells stars Emilie Ullerup of Chesapeake Shores and Josh Kelly of UnREAL. We didn’t stick around long enough to make nuisances of ourselves, but it reminded me of the days of shooting TV commercials.
 
Remember the one with the family that did gymnastics and acrobatics down the stairs and out of the house in the morning show ad we did for CHFI? That was big fun. The actors were terrific and, best of all, it was all interior shots. In the next round, there were some that we shot out in a driveway; those turned out to be my final ads.
 
We did take after take, just to have a garbage truck do its work in roads nearby and a guy begin doing his lawn care – mower and all – right in the middle of the shoot. Of course, neighbours don’t really care what’s going on, as they have to get their stuff done, too, but it’s quite a dance trying to shoot between noisy outbursts so they don’t have to be removed later in post-production.
 
And our tiny town of Sidney being directly in the flight path of Victoria International Airport, you can be darned sure that they had to retake plenty of shots when the WestJet and Air Canada prop planes and jets (as well as Alaska Airlines and Coast Pacific flights) started their climb out of the airport and right over the town’s main drag. I’m sure a lot of dialogue is re-recorded after the shoot, or would have to be in the case of this town. Beautiful blue skies for their backdrop today couldn’t be nicer for this Cape Cod-set film. Just switch one ocean for the other, right? That’s showbiz!
 
Before I go, I have to include a link to a 40-second video. I happened upon it yesterday and it was so sweet, I wanted to share it with you here in case you’ve missed it. It’s sibling love at its finest and just reminds you of all of the good things in the world. Love Trumps All (and I use that verb advisedly). You’ll want to turn it up to hear what he says. It’s a reminder that, together, we are all “stwong.”
 
Enjoy the day – back with you here tomorrow.
 

So, tomorrow’s a big day – good or bad, depending on your take – in Canadian history. Actually, in world history: we’re only the second nation on Earth (besides Uruguay) to fully legalize cannabis for recreational purposes. In case you’ve been under a rock (or are already an overly enthusiastic user) you probably know that as of tomorrow…well, I’ll let this post, courtesy CBC, fill you in.

Adults in Canada will be legally allowed to:

• purchase fresh or dried cannabis, cannabis oil, plants and seeds for cultivation from either a provincially or territorially regulated retailer, or — where this option is not available — directly from a federally licensed producer;
• possess up to 30 grams of dried legal cannabis or its equivalent in public;
• share up to 30 grams (or its equivalent) of legal cannabis and legal cannabis products with other adults;
• cultivate up to four plants at home (four plants total per household); and
• prepare varying types of cannabis products (e.g., edibles) at home for personal use provided that no dangerous organic solvents are used in the process.

Source: The Government of Canada

There is a lot of talk about the roll out (pardon the pun) of this change to our laws; I’m trying to imagine the days following the eradication of Prohibition when, after years of smuggling or imbibing in speakeasies and secret clubs, alcohol was legal for public consumption again. This change will not be without major speed bumps – those are inevitable – but let me share a few thoughts today. 
 
I don’t hate this. If it helps people who are in pain (and yes, this is non-medical marijuana, so it might well be more about “feeling no pain” than actual pain control), so much the better. How many people do you know who deal with their pain through prescriptions or trips to the liquor store? Plenty, I’m betting. And more that you may not know about.
 
I have a friend who has chronic back troubles exacerbated by a car accident last year, and is also dealing with insomnia that accompanies menopause. She partakes; it’s legal here in BC. I had the chance to go with her to a dispensary last week, as she’s concerned about what tomorrow’s changes are going to bring and how it’s going to alter supplies, distribution and so on. 
 
First off, this dispensary (some of which look like Apple stores – all white and shiny) felt to me to be a little sketchy, in the basement of a small corner apartment building at a busy intersection. Although it was brightly lit and a sign on the door stated that there was no cash inside, I felt a bit uneasy, having never knowingly entered a place that sold weed before. I asked my friend if she was sure we should go in and I got laughed at. 
 
Inside the small store, a couple of employees stood behind the counter. There were event posters on the wall, a small ATM in the corner and there was no discernible odour. Except for the merchandise (and a lack of guitars hanging on the wall), it could have been a pawn shop.
 
So I took the opportunity to risk looking really “square” (does anyone say that anymore?) and ask some questions – for you and for me. I asked them what’s going to be different. The nice (admittedly mellow) young man behind the counter swept his arm across their display case and said, “All of this.” When I asked what he meant, his co-worker said that it’s like how cigarettes went underground (behind display boards in stores); this is so that no one – the concern is children – will see little tumbleweeds or devices with which to smoke or light them.
 
There were no cannabis gummies to be seen; they’re illegal on the island, the fellow said. But there were little bottles of tinctures, fat and firm pre-rolled joints and lots of other things I couldn’t begin to identify and was feeling way too “parental” to ask about. My friend bought cannibis oil in capsules (some fifty of them for less than a large bottle of Crown Royal) and we were on our way.
 
Why am I not against this? Because I think it would be hypocritical to allow alcohol to be served nearly everywhere and totally without stigma, but to be against a drug that is not, in most opinions, the dreaded “gateway” that opponents have warned against for decades. Of course, life is better with sobriety, using meditation, prayer, yoga or any other means by which you deal with all of the challenges it throws your way. 
 
Many users eschew booze for its cost, physical toll, negative mood-altering capabilities, calories and other detrimental effects. But that’s not how some people choose to navigate it, and having control over the substances that they are imbibing may be a more positive step than being subject to whatever manufacturing whims a dispensary’s supplier may indulge in.
 
I am wholeheartedly and unequivocally against anyone driving impaired – whether by drinking alcohol before getting behind the wheel, or having smoked a joint, taken a capsule or gummed a gummy. Taking control of a vehicle whilst under the influence of anything (including distraction) should mean licence suspension or termination. Period. Laws should be as clear and as firm with cannibis consumers as they are with blood alcohol levels. 
 
Then there’s where you partake: from what I read in online reviews about dispensaries, many employees are happy samplers of the inventory. Some customers complain about having to pass through those acrid clouds on their way past or into a store. Can you just imagine if the cashier at the liquor store had a mickey of Jack Daniels going under the counter? I mean, it’s probably happened, but these are just some more of the lines that should be drawn as we move into the future.
 
Oh and finally, here’s what I really don’t like: that sickly sweet smoke. As something that has been basically verboten all of my life, my head still pops up like in a game of Whack-a-Mole when I smell it. “Someone’s breaking the law!” my inner Deputy Davis voice screams. Of course, they’re not now. But that doesn’t meant that the smell isn’t (to me) nauseating when I have to pass through a cloud of it. I hope that users comes to realize that, as turned off as they would be passing through a crowd of tobacco smokers, they’re doing the same to others around them.
 
The times they are a-changin’ and who knows what tomorrow will bring? For many, there will be nothing noticeable; for others, it will be a time of adjustment. While still more are angry about Canada moving in this direction, I think we just need to stop and look at our society’s relationship with alcohol before we get too tied up in the morality of it all. I’m content to see where this goes. Laws have been changed and then altered and amended before. Nothing here is carved in stone(rs).
 

Welcome to a brand new week! Here on Vancouver Island, we’ve been treated over the past few days to blue skies and temperatures in the low teens: chilly enough for a spring day, but warm enough in the fall that you can’t resist the call of the convertible!
 
Where is 2018 going? I almost tossed my rice cakes the other night when Rob and I were watching an episode of The Good Doctor taped on October 1st, and saw an ad luring people to spend Christmas at Disney World. We’re not even at Halloween yet, for heaven’s sake! Then again, keeping in mind that some radio stations in the US start running Christmas music at this time of year – or even sooner – who am I to be the judge and jury over when people start thinking about the holidays?
 
I’ve found myself doing some last minute shopping, two months before the holidays, myself! Rob and I are going to be snowbirds this year for the first time, so any gifts we’re giving in person in Canada will have to be done by November 4th, when we fly to Ontario (and then I go on to Halifax before heading south). It’s so much to get straight in our heads: Toronto, Ottawa, Toronto, Halifax, then sun. I’ll tell you more about the wheres and wherefores later on. 
 
With few exceptions, you can’t go wrong with movie passes. It was just such a gift from my aunt and uncle last Christmas that came in handy Friday when Rob and I went to see First Man starring Ryan Gosling and The Crown‘s Claire Foy. We decided to splurge and see it in IMAX. Am I glad we did?
 

 
Well, I’m glad I asked! I don’t know what it is with me lately, but I want more from my movies. As much as I liked A Star is Born and plan to see it again soon on the big screen, it didn’t GRAB me. Maybe I want to laugh ’til I cry, or cry ’til I can’t cry anymore, but where is the movie that’s going to take me on the ride that some of the best pictures did last year? Three Billboards, Shape of Water…movies like that. And before that, the whimsy of La La Land or the depth of Moonlight? 
 
First Man is saddled with the task of making a quiet, private man like Neil Armstrong into someone audiences can connect with. A family tragedy that precedes his moonwalk sets a backdrop for the film whose emotional climax may just be a case of dramatic license. (I won’t give away here; of course, it’s connected to the moonwalk, but that’s not the entire picture.) 
 
Speaking of picture, IMAX is indeed a fitting format for the subject of this film: space. But so much of it is done in extreme closeups: the capsule itself, the faces of its occupants, the Vitamix-like jostling that these brave men endured. All of that wasn’t enough to sell me on the total necessity of seeing First Man in that format in order to fully appreciate it.
 
Contrary to what Faux News and ill-informed politicians like Marco Rubio were ranting about, there are plenty of American flags that appear in this film. They don’t have a flag-planting scene per se, but there are plenty of stars and stripes. 
 
At the risk of nitpicking, the film could have used subtitles for many of the radio conversations between the astronauts and mission control. That would have helped a lot (not that I think we missed a whole bunch because the dialogue was drowned out by static and soundtrack). There is little character development outside of the Armstrong household, unlike films like The Right Stuff, where we not only knew the astronauts’ names, but we knew more of their backstories as well.
 
Just as comparing versions of A Star is Born is impossible to avoid but still unwise, First Man is its own film and director Damien Chazelle has done a masterful job. I expect technical and arts Oscars to go this film’s way, but for my money, there’s no better picture (yet) than A Star is Born. However, as fast as time flies, there’s a lot of time yet before those statues are handed out on February 24th, 2019.
 
Have a great day and I’ll be back with you here tomorrow.
 

Well, what a fun – if shortened – week that was! And if it ever seems as if I’m complaining when I write about travel (including the journal a few weeks back when someone refused to put his phone on airplane mode) please don’t get me wrong. As I wrote on Tuesday, I’m truly pursuing what I hoped this chapter in my life would bring. But that doesn’t say it isn’t without speed bumps and they’re things I love to bring to your attention.
 

 
We can start with Tuesday’s trip from the Winnipeg airport to the Fairmont Hotel at world-famous Portage and Main (okay, maybe just “world famous in Canada” as what is reportedly the coldest or windiest intersection in this great land of ours). This tale is of a situation that was awkward, dangerous and just plain inconsiderate, but one that was exacerbated by my fear about what mentioning it might suggest.
 
After a quick trip through the modern and bright Winnipeg airport (where a piano and upright bass played outside a lounge – a pleasant surprise, and a Hug Rug awaited reunited loved ones at the base of the escalator) I hopped into a taxi driver’s Prius and told him where we were going. As he pulled away, a video began playing on the smart phone he had set up to the right of his steering wheel.
 
I can’t tell you what it was about; a man was talking excitedly in another language and there were letters in an alphabet I’m not familiar with. It seemed to be about religion, politics or even travel? I don’t know; I was too busy trying to see the road ahead of us, which is not what my driver had his eyes on. I could see in the rearview mirror when his eyes were down to the right as he looked at this video. And they were not darting, as one might expect with a GPS. 
 

 
What to do, what to say? I took a picture of his licence, in case I needed it, and was about to shoot whatever was on his phone, when it rang. So he answered and then proceeded to have a fifteen-minute conversation with someone; who and about what I have no idea. Although it was on speaker, it, too, was in another language. Which is definitely not the point. 
 
I have an idea what the language was, and I can tell you what the man in the video was wearing to identify his religion or nationality. I won’t. And that – fear of being called racist – is exactly why I didn’t ask him to turn off the video while he drove. How crazy is that? 
 
When we arrived, I gave him a $4 tip on a $26 ride. I usually tip at least 15 per cent. But I told him, “I don’t know if other passengers feel the same way, but I was terrified when you were watching a video while you drove.” He smiled and laughed a bit, as though he was going to deny it, but he didn’t. I know what I saw.
 
I watched as a school bus ahead of us unloaded its precious cargo in downtown Winnipeg. I saw a pedestrian weaving between cars and hoped the driver saw it, too. It was unnerving and I was too chicken sh*t to say anything, lest the man think I didn’t like the video because it wasn’t in my language or of my faith. Or whatever it was.
 
Maybe you’d have done differently, but decades of being super careful of offending anyone ALL THE TIME has taught me otherwise. The rampant racism that is real, both south and increasingly north of the border, is making me hyper aware of not being one of those people.
 
I do have the receipt from my ride and plan on contacting the cab company. Although the bellman at the hotel said, “Our cab companies are the worst…” when I told him of my harrowing ride, I don’t believe this is or has to be the case. And as reluctant as I am to get this gentleman into any kind of trouble, should that happen, I really do think he needs to be like the rest of us and leave the phone alone when he’s driving. Otherwise, we’re all going to feel like we need a SOMKE.
 

 
Have a great weekend and thank you for sharing in these travels and adventures here. Last night I embarked on a scary/exciting new part of this journey – taking the stage and hosting/emceeing/interviewing for a major event here in my new hometown – and I can’t wait to share it with you next week. I haven’t had a chance to digest it just yet (and it’s late as I write this) so I’ll need a few days. Also, we’re going to see First Man this afternoon, so I’ll have that for you, too. Talk to you soon.