Erin's Journals

Just a thought… What you think of me is none of my business. [Anonymous, but I first saw it in a magazine interview with Dini Petty]

You can watch a video version of this journal on my Facebook page, or here on YouTube.

Today, May 24^th: a love letter. No, not to Queen Victoria, although it could be if you had a good long weekend. Looks like a lot of people in Ontario and Quebec did not, thanks to some very wicked weather. I do hope you fared okay.

No, my love letter is to this guy.

Michael S. Cooper (self-professed “blond-haired, blue-eyed Adonis of the airwaves”) today turns 70 years old. He won’t mind me saying that I’m sure, but I’ll find out when I see him this weekend. I can’t wait!

I was mentioning Mike on social media the past few days because of something that came up that you’re likely to be hearing a lot about. Oh, I sure hope so. A piece posted by Jennifer Valentyne, our friend formerly of Breakfast Television and then all-too-brief stints on the morning show on Q107 and then Global TV in Toronto.

Jenn’s story – which is a big one – is not mine to tell, but it happened to more women than you can imagine at the hands and mouth of this man; stories that are coming out now but have only previously been shared with a therapist or on a tear-stained shoulder. You can find Jenn’s story here or just Google ‘Jennifer Valentyne news.’ It’s a long bit of video by today’s attention span standards, but well worth watching.

I admire Jenn’s courage more than I can say. There’s a very good chance she worried this would put a cap on her career as the people who might hire her will see she’s been a “troublemaker.” It’s exactly why I stayed quiet through so many incidents early in my career and many still do. Because this is still going on.

So how does Mike Cooper tie in with this? When the person of whom Jenn is speaking came after me, relentlessly, cruelly, for years and years on the radio, I was lucky to be shielded from it; most of his barbs I never heard about. (Obviously before most of social media.) But I’ve received a heartfelt apology from a woman, who worked with him at the time, for not standing up for me. How could she? She needed that job. It’s what the bullies always count on.

In Kelowna last week, I met up with my cousin Cliff, whom I hadn’t seen in 30 years and who lived in the GTA. He listened to Q and asked me what was going on all those years between me and Derringer. I told Cliff, in all honesty, I had no idea and couldn’t even tell you what he had said. Cliff responded that I was lucky to have been shielded. I guess I took to heart the saying above.

But Mike Cooper heard about those comments. This guy looked up to Cooper. And I don’t know if he listened when Mike told him to knock it off, but I’ve always loved Mike and admired him for that. Same as when Ian “The General” went toe-to-toe with one of the bully’s on-air gang. I sure couldn’t defend myself. And I’m actually very nervous today even telling you about this. His minions will come after me on social media because they count on me not fighting back.

Mike is a friend you would want to have. Someone who will make you laugh ’til you pee (and somewhere there’s an elevator at a Disney World hotel that will attest to that, I’m afraid), be there when you are at your deepest low and proudly celebrate you when you’re at the highest pinnacle. You couldn’t wish for a better friend and I’ll never get over the gift that working with him for the final happy chapter in my career, was to me and to Rob.

Here’s the best part: we get to spend an entire week with Mike starting Sunday when we host a river cruise together for AMA Waterways along the Rhine. We’ll pick up where we left off, with a great big kiss, and a whole bunch of talking.

Will we be discussing Jenn’s revelations and the floodgates they opened? Oh, you know we will. As a lot of people will be, too, this week.

But most of all, I’ll be expressing again and again my gratitude for his friendship, his loyalty, his love and his just being here. Oh, it’s gonna be fun.

Happy Birthday, Mike Cooper. You’re not just one of the good ones, you’re simply The Best.

Just a thought… Later in life, children are often reluctant for a host of reasons to assume responsibility over their parents, a reversal of roles that symbolizes mortality. [Caroline Fraser]

You can watch a video version of this journal on my Facebook page, or here on YouTube.

Good morning – and welcome in. Today Rob and I are on the road again (and the water) as we board a ferry to the mainland and make the five-hour trip over to the interior to visit my dad.

Before I tell you more, let me give you some insight into what airline tickets are here these days: a one-hour flight to Kelowna, or three hours with a stop in Calgary or Vancouver, was going to cost us 900 dollars. One way. Per person. So since it may be early where you’re watching this, I’ll do the math: add in a rental car and before hotel and we’re talking at least $4000. To get from here to Kelowna.

So, yeah, it made the ferry costs, hotels and even gas at $2.40 a litre for the SUV (albeit hybrid) a heck of a lot cheaper than flying. Yes, there are cheaper flights if you have the weeks in advance to book. In this case, we didn’t, but we’ll make a point of it in future if we decide we’d rather not drive. And we’ll hopefully be avoiding many of the parts of the Trans Canada that were washed out in last year’s horrific floods in the BC interior.

So, after 12 days in hospital, Dad is back in his own bed in his retirement residence – a bed to which we’ve added rails for safety at the hospital’s insistence. Dad likens it to being in a rodeo just to get around the gates, or to his days of calling square dances where you had to “swing around the promenade.” But he’s adjusting.

Dad is far from recovered in terms of his mental state after a wicked infection and then Covid on top of that. But I’ll join the team of Davis daughters in sussing things out, and seeing what we think the future might look like. I’ve brought paper and markers and tape to put signs up to remind him of things, and we’ll see just what else we can do while we wait and learn just how much of his mind returns, and deal with the possibilities if it does not.

Dad has not lost his sense of humour, thank goodness: he’s getting a little concerned about the frequency of these visits and asked sister Les the other day, “Is there something terminal I should be worried about?” Yep – that’s Dad.

I’m so grateful to be seeing him again; to have a week that’s open enough that we can go. Of course, as he turns 89 in less than a month, every visit is more meaningful than the last.

As we are reminded by news from around the world, as in Ukraine, and closer to home, amidst the devastation and heartbreak in Buffalo, no sunrise – no loved one – is to be taken for granted.

I’ll sign off for today and promise you that on Thursday there will be a journal of the scenic variety. And, of course, because we all have trouble sleeping some nights, there WILL be a new Drift story for you tomorrow, one that has a royal taste to it, since it’s the Victoria Day weekend ahead and it’s called Son of Seven Queens. You’ll find it here after 6 pm ET Tuesday.

Be well and we’ll talk to you here on Thursday, hotel internet permitting.

With your gentle permission and understanding, I’m going to take the rest of this week as one to rest my mind and be back with a new journal and video journal for you on Monday.

Some good news though: my father’s nurses Wednesday night said he was doing well, making jokes and a “total sweetheart” so it sounds like dear ol’ Dad is on the mend and possibly on his way home.

Take good care and I’ll be back here after the weekend. In the meantime, I post daily at www.facebook.com/erindavispage.

And thank you.

Hugs, E.

Just a thought… Live so that when your children think of fairness, caring and integrity, they think of you. [H. Jackson Brown Jr.]

As usual, you can watch a video version of this journal on my Facebook page, or here on YouTube.

And it’s Monday; we made it through another Mother’s Day, but it’s my Dad who’s on my mind these days.

If you visit my Facebook or Instagram page (and thank you for that) you may have seen that I mentioned in connection with Nurses’ Day and Week that I’m grateful to the nurses at Kelowna General Hospital, especially Taylor, with whom I spoke briefly the other night.

My dad has been in there, first in a corner of the trauma ward and then in the Covid ward, for 10 days now. That’s a long time to be hospitalized in these days of scarce beds, which tells you what level of severity we’re talking. While Dad’s still on “room air,” as they call breathing without oxygen mask or intubation, his problem stems from a wicked infection that coincided with his Covid diagnosis. And so he’s become delusional. He thought it was 2013. And as much as I’d be happy to go back there myself, that’s not a good sign.

So we wait. My two sisters in the BC interior aren’t able to visit Dad because of Covid; does he know we want to visit or why we’re not there? Cindy and I are afar and awaiting any kind of news, like what happens next? He was living happily, mostly independently, until now, but if this infection double-whammy leaves deeper dementia in its wake, we’re talking about a whole new level of care.

The rumour mill has not a few, but dozens of cases of Covid in my dad’s residence. Of course, we’ll never know how or where he got it, but his lady friend also has it, and she’s missing my dad something fierce.

As I say, we all wait. Every morning I awaken to the dread of a message or a call with news I don’t want to hear, but am honestly expecting. Or, they are discharging him and we have to figure out what steps to take next in our father’s care.

All of this is so unfair. Not that Covid has hit our family; millions of children and loved ones have been through exactly what we’re experiencing right now. But that we’re being told to get on with our lives, and people are choosing not to mask, when the virus and its variants are still flexing their muscles. I know we can’t put life on hold forever, but when you weigh that against a life gone forever, it makes wearing a mask just such a small price to pay for someone else’s health.

I don’t know. Sorry not to be cheerier today. It’s just that kind – this kind – of week. I hope to be back with you Thursday.