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Is there a washroom in this park?
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This Tuesday, June 8, Toronto City Council will vote on a recommendation for "the Provision of Portable Washrooms and Sinks in City of Toronto Parks". Those of us who are not fifty anymore and enjoy a walk in the park would appreciate if you could put a little pressure on the city to do a nice thing. Sign this petition right now if you're up for it – better yet, let your city councilor know that it will be a great service to the elder community to have more public washrooms.
This is one 75-year old who likes parks and doesn't like being too far from a washroom. I even wrote a song about it, and it's the title track of my new CD, "I'm Not Fifty Anymore" – check out the video here if you haven't seen it already. Just me and Steve Marriner and he is killing it on the harp. Steve has a solo CD coming out next month and we just did a feature on him in the June edition of MapleBlues.
I'm not going to lie to you, this lockdown has started to get me down – I know, you were feeling like that a long time ago. I was a bit of a homebody before the pandemic and probably will be still, but there's a certain malaise that's overtaken me. I can barely get motivated to get the guitar out, and when I do my fingers don't go where they're supposed to go. I never sweated being "out-of-shape" before, though I often stopped playing for a stretch – but I knew it wouldn't take more than a couple of days to get up to speed. Now it might take a little longer but I'm trying to get the guitar out every day for at least an hour. I think I'm going to put some lighter strings on one of my guitars so I can ease back into it when I haven't been playing much.
Today I pulled out some old tunes of mine and sure enough, I can’t remember one of the chords. It's one of my French songs, "Ramene Moi Demain" and I'm going to have to refer to the original recording to refresh my memory. It won't be the first time.
It isn't just with the guitar playing. For 3 days I was looking all over for my favourite pair of reading glasses – the only ones that are good with the computer. Then last night I found them and that was great, but here's the interesting thing: When I woke up this morning the first thing that came to mind was where could those glasses be (it's not like I leave the house!). And then a few moments later I realize that I have already found the glasses! I guess that's what they call a "senior moment"
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10 Feet from 20 Feet From Stardom
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As I was just waking up listening to CBC on the clock radio the other morning, I heard about documentary filmmaker Morgan Neville being inspired to make his Oscar-winning movie "20 Feet from Stardom" when he saw a Leonard Cohen concert where he showcased his back-up singers.
For Blainfans who didn't already hear this story, I can take a little credit for Lenny's back-up singers. Back in the Montreal days, my back-up group was just three female singers, Sue Lothrop, Estelle Ste-Croix and Joanne Smith - the original Blainettes. That's right, just me on guitar and 3 female back up singers. We had some choice gigs, opening for Lou Reed among others. Then one day, I got a phone call while I was at my parents place in Sherbrooke. It was Lewis Furey (formerly Lewis Greenblatt) who I played bass for briefly and who was now a bit of a rising star in Montreal. He was giving me a "courtesy call" to tell me he had hired my back-up singers and hoped that I didn't mind. I was my usual easy-going self and I didn't freak out or anything but I guess I was a little miffed. Only two of the girls stayed with him but he got a third and they had gotten a show together but then Leonard Cohen heard the girls and scooped them up for his upcoming tour. I guess he made them an offer they could not refuse. I don't know if Lewis ever got a "courtesy call" (he and Leonard were pretty good friends) but I couldn't help but think that's some kind of karmic retribution!
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I guess a lot of you friends spent this week catching up with the pain that First Nations folks have been suffering for generations, always wondering what happened to all those native kids who went to residential schools and never came back. Well now we know that hundreds of them were just buried in unmarked graves.
Even though I've spent my life living under the poverty line, I still consider I had a relatively privileged life, living by my wits and managing to get this far doing what I love and rarely having to deal with a "real job".
I went to a Catholic High School which did not hesitate to inflict corporal punishment. When I encountered Buddhism I was glad to ditch the Catholic ethic and thought I had found something that was more my style, but I have issues with any religion that acts "holier than thou". And I'm thinking that "congregations" might be less important in the future, especially after what we've been through. Congregations with lots of rituals was an important part of life back when there wasn't much else that could reinforce a "community". But now we have communities up the yin-yang and they are not restricted by geography either. It's a lot easier for like-minded people to find and support each other nowadays (that's not always a good thing, but that's the way it is).
Then in music, the genre that spoke to me was blues and I've spent my life playing it without thinking about all the suffering it was borne from. But these days, an old white guy singing the blues is seen by some as not appropriate (even though there's far more white people singing the blues than black folks). What's gonna happen if the next generation of white musicians decide it ain't right for them to play black music?
And I could also be frowned upon further as a white guy who takes part in a regular pipe circle with a bunch of other white folks as I have for the last 30 years. Of course, there's been no physical gatherings since the pandemic but we set a time when we can all meet if only "energetically" and experience that deep silence together. I set up a small altar with crystals and sweetgrass, smudge myself and sit quietly in front of my TV with the fireplace channel on - how (in)appropriate is that?
So I'm sure there's lots of folks that think it's wrong that some old white dude is playing blues and smudging himself but I've been doing these things for most of my life and after 75 years it's too late to change now.
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Last night during that (virtual) healing circle, I had a moment, just a flash, where I felt my "inner warrior" - all I saw was a profile of a stern look. Even the gentlest of souls has an "inner warrior" but it's best kept submerged until you're in a real fight-or-flight situation. And for folks who have nurtured their "inner warrior" and project strength and authority, well they were always the first choice for military or law enforcement. And even if they were bullies or misogynists, they were the type of people you would want protecting you on a battlefield or urban jungle.
But the times they are a changin'. People want a kinder, gentler cop so we'll see how that works out. Good riddance to thugs and brutes but the next generation will have to find new ways to deal with the bad guys.
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That's enough of my musings. Thanks for reading this far. I see that the Blainletter gets opened by hundreds of people but not sure how many read through it. But I always seem to hear from someone or other that they enjoyed it and that's what keeps me going. Feel free to forward this to any friend you think might enjoy my occasional ramblings (and maybe my music, too). These bits and more are always available on my blog, www.torontobluesdiary.com.
See you out there, eventually...
BrianB, aka Butch, Nappy, Shaker, Two-Lane Blain, Colorblind Brian, Stringbuster, Buddha of the Blues
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