On the home page of Upalong.org this week is a very well-done video by the folks over at Bristol Communications.  It’s a song written to the tune of a Danny Williams speech announcing that Newfoundland will no longer be a “have not” province.

Nice Video… worth a look.

Tonight my wife and I went out for dinner, a coffee and a drive.  On our way home I stopped at a red light, waiting to make a left turn.  When it turned green, I waited for the traffic to pass, or so I thought, and proceeded to make the left turn.  There were two cars coming, one in the closest lane and one in the farther lane which I thought was making a right turn.  

As I pulled passed the near lane, I slowed down to let the dude in the far lane make his right turn… then my wife hollered “what are you doing?”  That’s when I realized that the guy making the right turn was going straight and NOT slowing down!  I immediately jumped on the gas and sped out of the way, narrowly escaping a T-Bone accident.

I’ve had plenty of close calls… but none of them rattle me more than the ones that would have been my own fault.

Whew!

Humour is a part of my daily life.  I think I’d explode if I was forced to keep my smartass comments to myself.  I think folks are ok with it and even enjoy it.  Ok… maybe I just associate with extremely tolerant people.  As such, I could probably fill this blog to the rafters with shit that happens on a daily basis, snippets of conversations, and biting sarcastic retorts.  That is if I could actually remember them all later, or if I thought the humour would translate to the written word as effectively as the situation/timing/location did.

This may be the case here, but I think I’ll give it a shot.  It’s a short one, so don’t blink.  Names have been omitted and the conversation has been totally rewritten paraphrased for the sake of laziness enhancing the humour.

A couple of colleagues and I were having a non-business discussion.  Part of the discussion got a little off topic and started to go off on random tangents.  Another person tried to draw the discussion back, explaining that they have trouble focusing on a single point.

Then one person said, “That’s ok, I have ODC too.”

I started laughing uncontrollably, “I bet you are dyslexic as well, eh?”

She said, “How’d you know?”

A Pittance Of Time
Written by Terry Kelly © Jefter Publishing - SOCAN

They fought and some died for their homeland.
They fought and some died, now it’s our land.
Look at his little child; there’s no fear in her eyes.
Could he not show respect for other dads who have died?

Take two minutes, would you mind?
It’s a pittance of time,
For the boys and the girls who went over.
In peace may they rest, may we never
forget why they died.
It’s a pittance of time.

God forgive me for wanting to strike him.
Give me strength so as not to be like him.
My heart pounds in my breast, fingers pressed to my lips,
My throat wants to bawl out, my tongue barely resists.

But two minutes I will bide.
It’s a pittance of time,
For the boys and the girls who went over.
In peace may they rest.
May we never forget why they died.
It’s a pittance of time.

Read the letters and poems of the heroes at home.
They have casualties, battles, and fears of their own.
There’s a price to be paid if you go, if you stay.
Freedom’s fought for and won in numerous ways.

Take two minutes, would you mind?
It’s a pittance of time,
For the boys and the girls all over.
May we never forget, our young become vets.
At the end of the line,
It’s a pittance of time.

It takes courage to fight in your own war.
It takes courage to fight someone else’s war.
Our peacekeepers tell of their own living hell.
They bring hope to foreign lands that hate mongers can’t kill.

Take two minutes, would you mind?
It’s a pittance of time,
For the boys and the girls who go over.
In peacetime our best still don battle dress
And lay their lives on the line.
It’s a pittance of time

In peace may they rest,
Lest we forget why they died.
Take a pittance of time.

The local paper from my home town recently posted the following on its local web site….a testament to tradition, at the same time a note on progress.

Public Service Announcement

The Town of Grand Falls Windsor, Parks and Recreation Department are presently looking for pallets, wood, etc for its community bonfire to be held on November 5. If you have any items that you can donate please call XXX-XXXX, XXX-XXXX or fax XXX-XXXX. You can also e-mail.

Growing up in Newfoundland, Bonfire night actually started mid-summer. The only thing in my life that was more important (at least to my father) was to get the winter’s wood put away. A must if I was to celebrate Bonfire night.

For the quintessential and of course the largest bonfire, we collected pallets, ‘blasty boughs’ for the bonfire finale, tires from every service station we could get to, and anything else that was remotely flammable. Tires were the best…..the steel belting, the smoke, the smell of the rubber, the toxins… we really didn’t care. Not one of us ever went home without the acrid stench of rubber on our clothes, the red smoky eyes, or blackened marshmallow clinging to sweaters and mitts. In later years we cooked potatoes, roasted wieners, and made what my grandmother called ‘frozies’. All cooked over the coals, tires and all. No S’mores for us.

As I was preparing this I remembered the chant we used to sing and racked my brain over the words to the point where I had to phone and ask my parents. Now in their 70’s my father never skipped a beat…..he recited, I wrote, and then he said, “I thought that internet thing was supposed to have all that stuff”…..words from the wise. Anyway here it is:

Remember, remember the fifth of November,
Gunpowder Treason and Plot,
I see no reason why gunpowder treason
should ever be forgot.

Guy Fawkes, Guy Fawkes,’twas his intent
to blow up the King and the Parliament.
Three score barrels of powder below,
Poor old England to overthrow:
By God’s providence he was catched
With a dark lantern and burning match.

Hello boys, hello boys, make the bells ring.
Hello boys, hello boys, God save the King!
Hip hip hoorah!

Interestingly enough, we only knew the second verse.

So now it’s community bonfires. I’m sure this is much safer, more controlled, and more accessible to everyone. I’m also sure that the sight of some smallish boys trapsing through town with axes, and knives is likely now frowned upon let alone the custom of rolling tires through the streets en route to their demise.

The tradition has changed or modified. The more trendy green movement, the recycling of virtually everything from spray cans to tires, pallets to christmas trees has changed this tradition. However, this Newfoundlander has not forgotten, and in my mind’s eye I can see and hear childhood friends Stephen, Lorraine, Blair, Velda, David, on the street chanting. I can also hear my now 77 year old father “Now my son, get that wood stowed up.”

Hallowe’en night, passing out candy. I really hate that job, but it’s better than having your house egged. If I must do it, I try to have some fun with it. As the kids come to the door, I make comments about their costumes and guess who they are. This one young girl was wearing a white frilly dress, had a long blonde wig, and was carrying this long stick that looked kind of like a cane.

I asked, “Nice costume, but who are you?”

She proudly replied, “I’m Bo Peep!”

Being clever, I asked, “Oh right, so where’s your sheep?”

Rolling her eyes she retorted, “Little Bo Peep lost her sheep!”

Silly me.