Pat Blythe – All That Jazz VII – The Canadian Connection

Jazz was birthed in the U.S. but it didn’t take long to head north to Canada. It was first introduced to Canadian audiences in 1914, when a New Orleans band The Original Creole Orchestra performed a matinee gig at the Pantages Playhouse Theatre in Winnipeg. The stop was part of their western Canada tour. The band of six musicians included one of jazz’s early masters, cornettist Freddie Keppard. Jazz pianist Jelly Roll Morton performed in Vancouver cabarets from 1919 to 1921. Canada and the U.S. share the longest land border in the world so it was no surprise Canada quickly became the first country outside the U.S. to cultivate its own jazz scene.  “In Canada, as elsewhere, musicians took to jazz and made it their own, although not before they’d had the benefit of good tutelage from touring U.S. musicians – mostly black – for whom “Canadian time,” as they called touring north of the border, was a relief from the constant racism of the U.S. and a new, quite profitable source of revenue.” – Quill & Quire

Roxanne Tellier – This Week in Racism!

When I was a kid, growing up in Alberta, I encountered precisely two black families. One family, that ran a boarding house near my school, had a little girl about my age. When I went to L’Academie Assomption, which was a private girl’s school, the daughters of football player Rollie Miles were the only students of colour. 

Darrell Vickers – Ted Zeigler Part Two

           

It’s 1959, okay? Cold war across the U.S.A. Our future manager and the rest of the bewildered Zeigler clan had scurried off to Australia, far from the nuclear winter that would soon melt the rest of us into sticky shadows on the sidewalk. This alcoholic penal colony was infested with squads of fussy little men zipping hither and yon in search of houses with television aerials. Apparently, much like Britain, Aussieland had a TV tax and if you didn’t possess the required pricey license to watch “Skippy, the Bush Kangaroo” or “The Flying Doctor”, someone would come a-rappin’ upon your door and damn well demand you purchase one. It’s uncertain whether Theodore ever threw a shrimp onto a barbie during his time “down there” but he did almost lose a number of his domino-sized teeth one bright aft, by puttering out of his driveway and ramming into a car not driving on the “American” side of the road.

GRAN’S CANADA HIGHWAY – EPISODE 3: LOADED TO BEAR by Jaimie Vernon

In 1965, Canada was well on its way to making inter-continental travel from sea-to-sea-to-sea a lot more enticing and convenient. The Trans-Canada Highway had linked the otherwise awkward and barely passable sections of Lake Superior in Ontario and the Rocky Mountains between Alberta and British Columbia. And so, my grandparents decided to take a little trek out of province to see that the world didn’t end in Port Arthur, Ontario (merely life as we know it).

Roxanne Tellier – Summer of Songs Redux

I’ve been overwhelmed, recently, with the events swirling around us. It’s too much. And today, although I had planned a look into trump and Ford’s plans to re-open schools this fall, I’m gonna take a pass, and a day off. Instead of current affairs, let’s enjoy the summer sun, and take a stroll down Memory Lane, to this slightly edited column that I first wrote in August of 2015.

How very different things look now, from the perspective of 2020, and this time of plague! Seems almost naughty to see people gathered together, without masks or social distancing! And I’m not sure if any of the places I mentioned then, are open now. Never mind… Take my hand, come along with me on the wayback machine, and forget about today for a while ….

Bob’s Good Friday for Jesus – GREAT Friday for Amy

Just because Mother Nature has sent us to our rooms to think about what we’ve done, doesn’t mean we have to sit around and eat everything in the house, shave the dog, dress the cat up, or duct tape the baby to the bathroom door. Not at all.

While we’re home rearranging our sock drawers and seeing if we can build a mountain made out of mashed potatoes and some of the dead houseplants on the dining room table like Richard Dreyfuss did in Close Encounters, we can also reflect on some of the good things we have done in our messy, ungrateful, lives.

Today I celebrate. Not Jesus starting a three day vaycay in a cave after a forced march carrying enough timber to build a parking lot FotoMat kiosk, but the one thing I had something to do with in my life, that I am most proud ….

My daughter’s birthday is today, and to mark the event, I am re-posting this column as I do every year, to share my love for her with you and the joy she brings to me and everyone who knows her. Lots of new pictures, some brand new words …and as always …Lots and Lots of Love.
Love you Ames …you will always be the light of my life. – Daddy

Roxanne Tellier – Montreal, Cemeteries, and Donovans

My family has a tiny burial plot on Mount Royal, in the Cotes de Neiges cemetery, and that’s where the bones and ashes of my ancestors have been interred for over a hundred years.

It’s been two months since my aunt’s passing. The clan will gather this week to bring her ashes home.

“Patricia Donovan, daughter of Freda (James) Donovan and Denis Patrick Donovan, the last of her generation, died March 29, 2019 in Ottawa. 
Born in Montreal, Patricia lived most of her life there. She enjoyed travel, and worked for a time in Washington, D.C. She moved to Toronto and cared for her mother until her mother’s passing. 

Segarini: Raising Amy – The Annual Hippo Birdie Two Ewes 2019

Editor’s Note – Amy’s Birthday Week 2019!
My daughter celebrates a birthday on Wednesday, and to mark the event, I am re-posting this column as I do every year, to share my love for her with you and the joy she brings to me and everyone who knows her. Lots of new picture …and as always …Lots and Lots of Love.
Love you Ames …you will always be the light of my life. – Daddy

Roxanne Tellier – My City Was Gone

“Living just enough, just enough, for the city.”

The Big Cities of the past weren’t for everyone. In the hardscrabble days when I was growing up in Montreal or in Toronto, a city rat could always make ends meet, somehow, some way. There was always that neighbourhood where you could find a deal, that part of town where, while it might not be pretty, but, be it ever so humble, you could find a place to crash if you were short of dough. Or a place to score if you wanted to get high. You might not have a Rolex, but you could find a knockoff for a couple of bucks.

Peter Blount Oops and Blonde…James Blonde

Last week, I wrote about music. This week will be more of the same….but differen

Billy Gibbons of “Z Z Top” fame has released a solo album, and is touring in support of it. He booked an opening act (Benton Blount 1)) and the tour began. Everything was going smoothly……..but then came the mid-term elections. Shortly after voting, the “opening act” went on Facebook and posted a picture of himself wearing a MAGA hat, holding food from Chick fil A and wearing an “I Voted” sticker.