Profanity in Bridge

From Beavertown PrestoWorks - June 20, 2018

The president of the local duplicate bridge cartel in Minnedosa Manitoba has reported that after 24 years of regulated weekly tournament play, beginning in September theirs will be the first club in Canada to permit profanity during their Thursday afternoon gatherings.

The local duplicate group consists of up to seven tables, so 28 players, with the eldest, just passing her 102nd birthday in April.  

“It is true, but we're still just like any regulated bridge game in the world,” said Nelly Mills, the newest player to the group that meets weekly at the local Legion. “We have players who report their performance to the Bridge Gods and get their points or whatever, so la ti dah.” She reports that when she began with the group 18 months ago, she thought, “Fuck yeah!, Legion bridge, I can have my half-pint of draft while I'm the dummy, just like my Mom used to do!”.

But noooo, “We have to wait until all of the boards are played before we can head to the bar,” she lamented. “Yeah. I got used to that.”

Many of the local players reported that they grew up in families where their parents swore and hollered at each other for failing to use a convention they had invented.

“I thought drinking and arguing were just kinda part of the reality of bridge,” said Mills. “At least it was in my house. So when I finally decided to start back into the game, in my retirement here, well, frankly, I was put in my place!”

Mills researched the rules in detail and found no clauses that prohibited swearing.

“Shit, noshit, fuckballs, I mean we all forget what's been played sometimes, and you need to let it go, just like the curlers,” she said, “They swear all the time, and it fuckin' helps their game. Ask me. I know!”

Beavertown staffers followed up with duplicate bridge clubs in Vancouver and Orillia, and confirmed that there is no prohibition against using profanity, but that the hairy eyeball has been effective at keeping civility as the norm during weekly play.

Mose and Sue

Mose Allison

I began with sing-alongs.  I could belt'em.  I grew in Winnipeg's north end, and I did not realize until I was well grown and gone, that I had been nursed in blues. I thought it was all rock'n roll.  But no.  It is the blues... with a swig of jazz.

Today Bill Bourne posted a great article about one of my all-time blues and jazz heroes, the honourable Mr. Mose Allison.  It is a #mustRead for blues fans.  I cover three of his tunes: Your Mind is on Vacation,  and here's a Van Morrison cover of it; Hello There Universe, and Your Molecular Structure. I remember struggling with the cord changes and laughter when I demo'd my first version of Universe - crushing, but did not quit.

Sue Foley

Also this week, Ottawa's Sue Foley, another of my long-time blues heroes, fell into the lap of my blue screen with an announcement of her next album, The Ice Queen.  She released a pile of terrific short videos of her playing (this is a FB link) and talking, and a link to her interviews with her heroes - women of guitar.  I cover Walk in the Sun, but I like to call it "Fine for Awhile". Lyric poetic.

They both do.

Reading about the blues - how it is not simple.  it is not banal.  it is deep and rich.  it is a structure under which Mose makes us laugh and crafts his jazz.  it is a platform under which Sue relays history and displays her unique take - makes me hungry to play.

Both Mose and Sue have spent their blues in the clubs.  This is where the the blues is.  This is how the blues gets done.  It is hard work setting up and tearing down (Another FB link by Sue) so you can do it.  The Blues.  The basis of jazz.

I love these two.
Mose and Sue.
They made me play
Again today.

Dylan's Day

And the american poet from Duluth gets the prize.

The big kids in the neighbourhood listened to Dylan.  I learned the songs.  I wasn't obsessed.

I had a nice sound system, so to add to my record collection, I thought I'd better get one of Dylan's:
Planet Waves.

A specific line of poetry in one song from that album really got to me.  I identified with that line.  It was not a very positive assertion by this world class poet, but I guess it was a truthing.

Hazel

Dirty blonde hair

I wouldn't be ashamed to be seen with you anywhere

Poetry is meant to connect.  And this one did connect for me. Wholly!!  But what a bass-ackwards compliment.  I was always so grateful when someone paid a bit of attention to me.  Pitiful, I know.  The irony is, I learned and covered Hazel and perform it frequently.  I want folks to hear the slander in those lines.  Few do though.

Then a few years passed, and I had some money, so I thought, I'll get another Dylan record.  Slow Train Coming.  Gawd.. he was trying to convert me!  He was born again.  Just like so many people I've met over the years, Dylan fell into the born again pool and used his infamy to spread his perfect truth.  And I'm sure he was wealthy enough to pay his musicians well.  I doubted they were followers.  I still wonder if he fell off that wagon.  At least he keeps it private, either way.

But I did fall in love with  a version of one of his songs; arranged by John Lennon.  Performed by John and Harry Nilsson, it is  Subterrannean Homesick Blues  Pussy Cats.  Best ever version of of a Dylan song.

One good thing about the timing of this award is that folks are reminiscing about Dylan/Zimmerman today, and he is still among us.  At least it is not a funereal nor a memorial tribute.

So felicitations to all you Dylan fans.  Good on Cate for her portrayal in I'm Not There.

And finally, glad to see a poet hit the podium.  I can identify with a life-time of words fighting to escape and thoughts forming and evaporating.

Neil Young - For my grandchildren.

Neil Young Says "Canada is trading integrity for money. It is a poor imitation of the George Bush administration. It is an embarrassment as a Canadian."

Neil Young has stepped up in support of  Athabasca Chipewyan First Nation (ACFN) and staged concerts to fund raise to cover legal costs to put a regulatory system in place to protect the planet from corporations and the Canadian government who unleashed a "runaway train with no conductor" that is spewing CO2 at a rate six times greater than any other development on the planet.  Dirty Oil.  Period.

Today (January 12, 2014) from Toronto, prior to the first concert in the series, a panel addressed the media.  Four speakers presented concerns and afterward, media writers were invited to ask questions.  The panel presentation was aired live on the CBC website.

Here are a few excerpts from the live event:

After Young admitted his mind was blown at the idea of asking Harper a question and Suzuki interjected that he had three times asked for an audience with the PM, Young smiled and replied to Suzuki, "Yeah, but you have a bad reputation," to loads of laughs. Young said he would welcome an audience with the PM.

Young said, "Science is the road map. That is why I'm here. Behind the words Canada Ottawa Ontario Manitoba Saskatchewan Quebec are first nations words. We are breaking our promise. The blood of these people will be on Modern Canada's hands."

Young described the political and corporate motive: "Money is #1. Integrity isn't even on the map. It is just marketing. It is not truth."

Chief Adam of ACFN  concluded the session with levity. He reminded listeners and the audience that he represents his people and their position in the treaty. He said the Canadian Government's job is to represent Canadians in the treaty. "If," he said, "your government is not representing you, I will do my best to do so." And the session closed with a smile and good will.

Neil Young invited government officials who respectfully declined to attend and tell their story. Their chairs remained empty.

There is a 12 minute film that will be aired at the concerts in support of the legal challenge related to the Jackpine oilsands proposal.

There was consensus on the panel that the tar sands are backward thinking. They are the dark ages. There are many innovative ways to have energy on the planet that are clean.

I am attending the Honour the Treaties concert on Thursday in Winnipeg.

People wanting to take action can write to government officials. Speak to friends and neighbours about their concerns and visit http://www.drawtheline.ca/ to find other ways to help make change.

‪#‎inm‬ ‪#‎decolonize‬

Early Winter Trails

Balsam Bed. Glad Trail

I am a forest woman.

Lab Tea. Regatta Bay Trail

Labrador Tea. Regatta Bay Trail

I walk the trails and I bushwalk too.  Every day the forest is a different place.  My forest is the South Mountain.  It is a mixedwood forest.  Last week I walked every day.  Goldeneye Lane. Glad Lake Trail.  Regatta Bay Trail. Copernicus Hill. The Forestry Centre Trail.

Snow Moss. Regatta Bay Trail

It was warm and wet.  It snowed at night, and rained by day.  But up at the highest elevation in Manitoba, under the shade of gigantic white spruces, tightly knit black spruces, steep folds and dense bush, the snow held firm, making the walk easier, in some cases and more difficult in others.

Please Click on any photo to enlarge it.

Trail Lake

Regatta Bay Trail Blocked

Not Alone Ms Elk

Regatta Bay

This is a small photo montage of what we saw as we hiked.  Last summer there were devastating winds in The Valley.  The South Mountain was also scarred by the winds.  The trails are open now, mostly, for hiking.  The second loop of the Regatta Bay trail was the most difficult due to trees that had been downed by the wind.  About a kilometer of the trail on the north east side of Arrowhead Lake was covered by a black spruce bog that had been completely upended.  About 500 trees were down, and beneath was wet marsh grass, crunching and breaking through to loonshit.  It was near the shore but the lake wasn't frozen yet so it was tough slogging through there.  Other than that stretch, the trails were presentable.

Tree Root Cave

The labrador tea was most colourful.  A lovely sight to behold.  The snow mosses were alive and bright.  Shorelines were freezing but the breezes were still creating chop on the water.  And I was not alone.

 
There were lots of tracks on the trails.  Moose.  Elk.  Deer.  And other smaller critters, some dragging a tail, and others with hopping strides.  I walk with a dog, so I don't see the wildlife.  Just their aftermath.

Downed Spruce Copernicus Trail

Arrowhead Lake

Since these hikes The Valley was struck with a nasty blizzard.  I have not been back up The Mountain since 40cm of snow, and possibly more on these trails, blanketed our landscape. 

Please Click on any photo to enlarge it. 

The blog also has a slide show utility.  I will caption locations.  If you have any questions about photos, please leave me some comments.

Loggers Burning twxt Line & Wellman

panorama from Copernicus Tower

Panoram Gallant Lake

Glad Freeze up 2012

T

11/11/11 - Give Peace a Chance

You may click on these

images to read the text.

In December of 1980 I was working in the radio industry.  It was an era when pop country was stepping over dying disco for airwave radio dollars.  Rock and roll was floundering into the eighties with punk popularity and princely confusion.  Where I worked, we were making profit, with an "F", riding on the crossover from rock to country with acts like Alabama and Waylon Jennings.

We worked long hours and drank lots. On December 8, for some reason, I was late at the station. It might have been ilicit, or it might actually have been legit.  I didn't work news and in a small market station, there was never more than one person in the news room. Usually in the evenings, the person spinning tunes was the one reading the news wire copy.

I am not a thief.  I am an archivist.


I heard the DJ deliver the news of John Lennon's death from within the station.  Ten minutes later, I relayed  the news to my friends at the bar.  There were no tears shed.  But there was disbelief.

I don't recall any special tribute that night.  Today, I am reminded of the controversial photograph of young people sitting on the Jersey shore one warm September day, while the twin towers were imploding behind them.  They knew it was a horror, again, on Manhattan Island, but they were young and had a world of living ahead of them.  There was no need for them to wallow in the horror of the moment.

 

The next morning I went to work.  Across my desk came the new Billboard magazine, a mainstay in the music industry.  So I delivered it to the newsroom to replace the earlier edition.  As I lifted the back issue from the bunk I was faced with the back cover. Gulp. A lump floated from my chest to my throat.  Such a gentle kiss.  Dateline November 22.  Double Fantasy.  Full page ad.

Then I looked at the paper trash, there was no recycling in those days.  The morning news crew had dispatched yesterday's news into the circular file, and there were three teletype print-outs.  I slipped them into the magazine and carried the package back to my desk.

Okay.  I stole it.

But I have protected it.  And now I am sharing it.  1980 was pre-fax, let alone, pre-internet.  Teletype was monospaced courier font allCAPS on paper one step above toilet paper.

I rescued these historical records.... and stored them in the magazine, until today.

The first and second wire copy show the Lennon story unfolding.  The third one gives a bit of context about what was happening in the world, besides the death of John Lennon.  The cold war was in full swing and Pierre Trudeau was our Prime Minister.

Today is remembrance day.  11/11/11

Give Peace a Chance.

Beyond Thunder Bay

Access to this beautiful park was closed when I travelled east, unsure when I'd be back that way.  As I picked my way through the heavy construction of the Ontario highway crews twinning the blacktop east of Thunder Bay, the Green Sign God pointed me toward a memorial.  My eyes glanced upward, across the oncoming traffic limping through the roadworks.  I saw something.  A flash of something, high above the granite cliffs that had been blasted out of the sloping Superior coast to make the road bed.  It was just a glimpse.  I was not even sure what I had seen, but it put a lump in my throat and choked me up.  I got goose bumps.  Then I was past.

Weeks later, indeed, I found myself heading west, across the same stretch of highway, now smooth and freshly lined.  The workers had done themselves proud.  The further behind I put Nipigon, and the nearer I came to Thunder Bay, the more frequent the cliffs and the sense of the big peninsula creating  The Lakehead Harbour, and the more determined I became that I would visit this park.  It had left a sense in me.  Nobody had recommended this place.  I had past easily thousands of signs along my 15,000 kilometer journey enticing me in to visit, taste, view, stop, buy, and sleep.  I had learned to ignore the promotional media along the road.  But this was different.  

The first time I had driven through a wave of something.  I remembered.  And I wanted to get closer, and see it with my own eyes.  Truly, I was drawn.

So, I took the exit.  The new entrance way gracefully  circled me around the park, and up a gentle slope to a most beautifully groomed park and interpretive centre.  People had dogs, threw frisbees, looked at the sea.  Mostly, they just spoke quietly and stopped for a few minutes, (not many stayed long) to bask in the ominous presence created there.

People were not there to pay tribute.  This was a place where we were given grace.

click on the images to take a closer look