The Citizen, 2010-10-07, Page 5THE CITIZEN, THURSDAY, OCTOBER 7, 2010. PAGE 5.
I’m a senior citizen, which means I have
achieved Official Old Fart status. And now
that I’ve reached the age of certified
decrepitude I need to make a confession: This
was not the life I intended to lead.
I had expected, by now, to be unspeakably
rich, bedevilled by paparazzi and pursued by
ecstatic, clamouring groupies wherever I went.
My plan was to become an International
guitar legend.
My musical North Star was the great and
tragic Lenny Breau, the most talented guitarist
Canada (perhaps the world) ever had. But I
also worshipped at the altars of Robert
Johnson, Chet Atkins, Jimi Hendrix, Les Paul,
Ellen Mcilwaine, Santana and Gordy Farmer,
the kid across the street who showed me how
to nail down a three-finger G chord.
I immersed myself in guitar legend territory
whenever and wherever I could. I hung around
dank and draughty coffee houses drinking
chipped mugs of vile, over-priced java and
listening to the local (I use the word loosely)
talent. I bought tickets for Cockburn and
Lightfoot and Joni Mitchell when they passed
through. I haunted the guitar section of the
local music store and spent my school lunch
money on glossy instruction manuals for jazz
guitar, folk guitar, blues guitar, bluegrass
guitar and of course, basic guitar. I grew
warty-looking calluses on my fingertips and
wilfully deformed the muscles in my left
forearm until I was strong enough to form
barre chords.
I was in love with the guitar. Not just the
sounds it could make, but the hippy, sinuous,
sensuous look and feel and scent of it. I got as
close to guitars as I could and dreamed of
getting closer. If B.B. King had stopped for
gas in my town, I’d have washed his limo for
free. With my tongue. I fantasized of
hitchhiking to Graceland humping a backpack
full of jars of Ma Weston’s Crunchy Peanut
Butter and a side of Canada Packers Back
Bacon, the better to endear myself to Elvis.
Even today I live within a Rolling Stone’s
throw of three of Canada’s greatest Guitar
Legends – Valdy, Bill Henderson and Randy
Bachman. Coincidence? I think not. More like
Kismet.
Yep, me and guitars, we go back a ways.
Got my first six-string in the pre-Woodstock
era, when Neil Young was a pup and little
Bobby Zimmerman was down at the Hibbing,
Minnesota Greyhound depot trying to
decipher the bus departures for New York City.
Since then I’ve owned a succession of six
strings, twelve-strings – even a little Martin
Backpack guitar. It’s about the size of a
ukulele – just right for taking on road trips and
camping weekends.
So it follows, does it not, that like Johnny B.
Goode, I can “play that guitar just like
a-ringin’ a bell”? Got my Django Reinhardt
chops down cold? Able to reel off Classical
Gas and Stairway to Heaven in my sleep?
It does not.
I shudder to think how many hours I have
spent over the past (God!) 40 years hunched
over a guitar trying to coax something musical
out of its sullen little sound hole. I wince when
I think of the money I’ve lashed out – not just
for my guitars but for guitar lessons, guitar
strings, capos, and flat, finger, and thumb
picks.
Because here’s the thing: Do you know what
I can play on a guitar after thousands of dollars
and 40 years and God knows how many hours
of plucking and strumming and fretting and
bleeding – do you know what I can play?
Freight Train.
“Freight train, freight train goin’ so fast
Freight train, freight train goin’ so fast
Please don’t tell what train I’m on
So they won’t know where I’ve gone.”
That’s it! Four brain-dead simple chords –
C, G7, E7, F – a simple blues ditty that a
chimpanzee wearing boxing gloves could
figure out and play in 15 minutes.
And when I play it, it still sounds like Dr.
Bundolo’s Amateur Hour.
The simple truth that I could never grasp
was that I was in love with the idea of being a
guitar player – despite abundant evidence that
I had 10 left thumbs and no talent for the
instrument whatsoever.
Ah well, I wasn’t alone. Just think of all the
unplayed guitars mouldering away in cup-
boards and attics and storerooms across the
land.
I finally packed mine up and gave them
away so that I wouldn’t have to feel guilty
looking at them anymore.
It took a few decades and a touch of arthritis
in my finger-picking hand, but I think I’ve
finally accepted it: I get an F in Guitar
Theory and Practice, but an A Plus in Pig-
headedness.
Arthur
Black
Other Views While my guitar gently sleeps
As October comes back around,
temperatures begin to drop and I
scrape frost off of my window in the
morning, I am reminded that the official annual
anniversary of my start at The Citizen has
rolled around once again.
So has it been four years already? I guess so.
Thanksgiving weekend was my first weekend
of reporting, one of the first pictures I ever
took (professionally) was at the annual
Belgrave Fowl Supper and I was (supposedly)
dealing with that silly thing called culture
shock that everyone talks so much about.
I even wrote a column about it at the time. I
looked up the definition of culture shock and I
compared my “symptoms” with a textbook
case of culture shock. They didn’t really match
up, so I guess I wasn’t really “suffering” from
this condition.
I wasn’t depressed or lost or confused. Well,
I was a little confused. At work that is.
I remember back to my early days of
working at The Citizen and how much help I
needed from the other employees here, people
on the street and people whom I interviewed.
Before interviews for some of my first
stories, I would tell those people I was
interviewing to assume that I knew nothing
and start from the beginning of whatever it was
I was interviewing them about. Perhaps I
wasn’t as sly as I thought I was, but the truth of
the matter is that they weren’t assuming,
whether I asked them to or not.
I remember my early coverage of the annual
Thresher Reunion and how it started with
searching the word “thresher” on the internet. I
remember wearing brand new shoes to Chris
Lee’s motocross track, thinking that I would
simply stand in the “spectator area” and I
remember the realization that a Clydesdale is
in fact a type of horse, and not a type of car,
and the laughter that ensued in the office.
It’s true, despite my father coming from an
agricultural background, many of the realities I
faced when I moved to Huron County were
extremely new to me.
I remember nearly hitting the deck on
Blyth’s main street one day when the village
fire alarm went off, not knowing what the
sound was, or what it meant. My first instinct,
of course, was some sort of nuclear attack. It
was only when I went into the office that I
realized how absurd an idea that was.
The great thing about it all was that everyone
here took it in stride. The people of the area
didn’t treat me like an idiot, they treated me
like someone who could use that little helping
hand.
People popped by the office and told me
about good places to eat. They told me about
things to do at night and places I might find
fun.
Being the die-hard baseball fan that I am,
October was a hard month to move into a place
that didn’t have cable, so I spent nearly every
night out at a bar watching playoffs baseball
games and receiving help of a different kind.
And since that first year, when I watch
baseball playoffs, I’m reminded of my first few
months here. I remember not knowing anyone,
but chatting with everyone. I remember
hearing similar stories from people who knew
what it was like to move from one place to
another.
So as I’ve watched baseball playoffs every
year since, I’ve been reminded of sharing
meals, buying drinks and having drinks bought
for me and new friends in a place I didn’t know
and at a time when I needed them.
There was no culture shock here, it was more
like a big culture bear hug.
As time goes by
How much is the premier of Canada’s
most populous province, Dalton
McGuinty, worth to taxpayers?
Not much would be the prevailing view
among residents after the Liberal premier
bungled a succession of major programs and
fell dramatically in polls.
Some angry voters with eyes on the 2011
provincial election are demanding his annual
salary of $209,000 be reduced to bus fare.
But an astute opponent has put a different
light on the issue by saying compared to the
overpaid heads of many public institutions in
the province, agencies, crown corporations,
utilities, universities and hospitals, the premier
is an absolute bargain.
This unexpected compliment, which has its
merits, was paid when the legislature was
discussing a proposal by New Democratic
Party leader Andrea Horwath the pay of
such officials be capped at twice that of the
premier.
Horwath has brought in private member’s
legislation to provide this twice, but the
Liberals and Progressive Conservatives
rejected it both times.
The NDP action followed McGuinty’s
attempt to impose a pay freeze on rank and file
workers in the provincial public sector.
Horwath said McGuinty’s salary is accepted
as adequate for being chief executive officer of
a huge province with its many responsibilities
and twice that should be enough for the CEO
of any institution receiving public funds.
In supporting this, New Democrat Michael
Prue, noted as “a good House man,” always in
the legislature and contributing worthwhile
questions and comments that rarely are
reported because he is not a leader, added at
least a new dimension to the debate.
Prue said “every day I watch the premier in
the legislature answer the toughest questions
opponents can think up and I marvel at what
he is able to accomplish in talking to the press,
the bureaucrats, the other members of this
House, his own caucus and his cabinet.
“Is the premier worth only a quarter of some
of these bureaucrats raking in huge salaries? Is
this premier only one third as able as some of
the bureaucrats managing hospitals?
“Is this premier lesser in some way than
someone who manages a very small university
in Ontario?”
Prue pointed to “a nice, small university,
lovely place" in Guelph, where he said
the president, Alastair Summerlee, makes
$459,000 a year, more than twice the premier.
If the legislature capped salaries of public
CEOs at twice McGuinty’s salary, he said, “all
that would happen to poor Alastair is his salary
would go down from $459,000 to $418,000
and we could take that money and invest it in
students."
Prue added “I think the premier is worth
$209,000. I think nobody in this province is
worth more than twice that."
The government has threatened to allow
public sector executives pay increases only
where their performances justify it, but
examples keep mounting of such executives
being paid too much.
Horwath pointed to a CEO of a hospital in
Ottawa “making well over $700,000 a year,”
while it lays off nursing staff.
She asked why the CEO of Ontario Hydro is
paid more than $1 million a year, while the
successful Quebec Hydro pays its CEO a mere
$420,000.
She called on the Liberal government to
“have the guts to put on a hard cap.”
A spokesman for the government said it has
to pay salaries that compete with other
employers to attract people capable of
managing public institutions.
A Conservative acknowledged the NDP aim
of limiting excessive public sector salaries is
worthwhile.
But he said the real problem with public
sector salaries is the bloated number of rank
and file public servants and their high wages,
which do not reflect the public’s ability to pay
and McGuinty has encouraged to obtain a
cozy relationship with their unions.
In the end, the proposal to cap salaries of
heads of provincial institutions at twice
McGuinty’s got nowhere, but it produced a
revealing view of McGuinty and his worth.
Eric
Dowd
FFrroomm
QQuueeeenn’’ss PPaarrkk
Shawn
Loughlin
SShhaawwnn’’ss SSeennssee
McGuinty’s pay questioned
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