Snapshot of a 14 year old dreaming...

After a couple of weeks of trying I finally got through to Kadir yesterday morning just before I left for work. He told me he was at his mom’s place with his pal Chris studying for his mid-terms.

I asked if he had a few minutes to talk and he replied “Not really”, and not wanting to push him I told him I loved him and was thinking about him and let him go. But before I did he asked me the question I knew was coming sooner or later.

“Can I borrow your bass?”

I bought the electric bass from my friend John Gogo (a gifted Vancouver Island musician) in the early 90’s (about the time Kadir was born) when he visited us in Kits, along with a couple of drum machines, and I used all of them in quite a few home recordings over the next couple of years. The bass is a Fender clone and has seen better years but it sounds good and is quite functional.

After the visit with Chris a couple of weeks back when they jammed using the bass I figured that they sounded pretty good as Chris is a junior whiz on guitar and Kadir seems to be a one-note-at-a-time man. He is definitely interested in rock and roll and pop melody and when he played along with Chris on bass I could see the makings of a teen group in embryo.

After initial hesitation and my comment that he tends not to take good care of things he is given (the little acoustic I bought him lies ruptured and dormant at his brother Ky’s, the electronic tuner disappeared into the bowels of the Co-op, and his electric mini-Stratocaster style guitar gathers dust on it's stand in his room out of tune while he fiddles on his computer games) I relented.

“I’ll do it!” I gave back. End of conversation. The next move is his. He says he is going to carry it in a gig bag but I don’t think he’ll have one big enough.

My plan is to present it to him as a gift and ask him to promise that in return he will not neglect his studies or home duties. He is 14 and just about the age where I sat down behind my first snare drum. The black and white Kodak snapshot is on my fridge. I am certainly not a whole lot older, maybe a year at most. But I had practiced with table knives on kitchen chairs for a couple of years beforehand.

I can’t help but remember how I craved a real set of drums and almost talked my dad into signing a contract at Winnipeg Music for a snazzy set of cherry red Sonar drums. Almost!

My dad had another idea and that was to altogether avoid the pain of monthly payments. He brought home a drinking buddy from the Brooklands Hotel one night who told me that he had a set of Ludwig drums (Ringo’s brand) stored at his brother’s place in New York and that he was going to get them for me.

I waited for months and he kept stalling but still promising and eventually the sad realization dawned that I would never see these drums.

Kadir was depressed this Christmas because he didn’t get the game he asked for. If Kadir wants to be a guitar hero, better a taste of the real thing than the computer game version!

Flashing Phones and Flying Debris

It is Tuesday morning and I am hearing the sound of some heavy machinery this morning and can’t help but wonder if construction is starting across the street as advertised by the city. I looked out the window and the sound is coming from the opposite direction, the lane behind my building.

It is clear and cold outside.

Yesterday a vicious windstorm blew through the city and they had to block off all traffic around Shangri-La next to my office building as debris from the construction was coming loose and flying into the street, damaging cars and threatening to damage people.

When I left the building for my dinner break at 5 p.m. I had to lean into the wind and opted for a corned beef on rye sandwich at Kaplan’s deli…too high priced for my budget but just around the corner from us. Normally I walk about 10 blocks during my break and go for salad and soup at IGA but it was far too windy to do that…and possibly dangerous given the flying debris.

By the time I left work the wind had died down considerably but the street to the west of us was still taped off and so I had to take a detour around the back of the building and head up Thurlow at Alberni, not my normal route. Given the weather, there was no sign of the panhandler who usually sits posted at that street corner outside the 7-11.

As I approached the corner however along Alberni, a bearded and bedraggled man approached me and I thought here he is after all but instead he said, “The Liquor Store is closed.” After all, why else would I be walking in that general direction at that time of night?

It had been another killer shift with the phones flashing non-stop all evening but it was my Friday and so I could look forward to my 2 days off.

I made my way home along the dark still windy streets. Earlier in the day they had been rain soaked but now were completely dried off by the strong winds.

Thank God for that walk home to ease the tensions of a busy day!

Early January Seawall Awakening

It is Wednesday and a day off work. I had no plans for the day until I checked voice mail. There were 2 messages, the first from my daughter Chaya who will be visiting me this evening and the second from my son Kadir, asking if he could come over after school today.

I don’t get that many calls from my “too busy” 14 year old son these days and so a visit from both will be welcome.

I went through my usual morning rituals and after coffee I decided to hike up to Safeway to stock up on a few supplies.

It was a cloudy, cold day and when I got out the door I was relieved to see that the rain was holding off and decided to make the best of this situation and take my seawall walk to 2nd Beach. I wear several layers of warm clothing in this kind of weather and as soon as I felt the cold air on my head, I pulled out my navy wool watch cap to help seal in a bit more body heat.

I walked down to Sunset Beach at the foot of the hill and making my way along the winding path by the Aids Memorial I soon found myself heading along the seawall in a westerly direction.
In this kind of weather there were only a few walkers, a few joggers and most of the folks on the walk were exercising Fido. The dog, not the phone.

Pedestrians thinned out even more as I rounded the path by the Parks Board offices. The pavement was puddle strewn with sandy, muddy, mulch piles which I avoided as much as possible and passing a puddle I could see that the rain was starting again, the telltale rippling pockmarks appearing in the water and so I pulled up the hood of my jacket to prevent getting too wet.

Closer to 2nd Beach I became aware of the steady rhythmic unhurried drone of the small surf which had not been evident until now.

It was a cold walk and I picked up the pace as I rounded the pool area by the concession stand. I took the loop with the pool to my left and when I turned back in an easterly direction for my return the cloudy blue green water over the sandy seafloor revealed its beauty to me, and I paused to look into it. I let my energy drift with my gaze into the depth of the water.

Farther to the southeast the sun was trying to break through the clouds, brightening the sky considerably albeit without real success.

A day that only a half hour earlier had seemed drab and dreary was suddenly filled with a real vibration of magical aliveness.

Had I let the cold day keep me in, I would have missed this experience.