The Oppenheimer Report 4/29/19

We’ve had serious flooding up here in Muskoka and the Almaguin Highlands, as has much of Northeastern Canada. The perfect storm of melting snow, warmer weather, and heavy rains have combined to cause waterways to swell in the local area.  To compound the problems, there is more heavy rain in the forecast for later this week. The problem is widespread, with swollen rivers, overflowing dams, and damaged infrastructure impacting communities in many of the eastern provinces. Some in our community have already lost their homes, many are without power, and phone lines in Katrine have been shut down indefinitely until the water subsides. Nearby Bracebrige seems to have been hardest hit, and the damage has been devastating to that community. Last Friday afternoon, I attended a meeting at the Katrine Community Centre to hear what our Reeve and representatives from volunteer fire department, the police, and The Red Cross had to say about the flooding which has so far impacted our community. As it turns out, not much can be done, at least until the water recedes. First responders face an increasingly difficult job as some roadways become impassable, and the weather has not been particularly cooperative.

Near us, those living along the Magnetawan River here in Katrine were hardest hit, and many people have recently been evacuated. I rode my ATV over to nearby Horseshoe Lane, a crescent that runs along the river, and it was completely underwater. Shortly thereafter, the main road into Katrine became impassable  and was closed. One of the residents on Horseshoe Lane is an elderly friend of mine named Ed. I called him up last week to see if he was okay, and he said that he and his dog Sadie were all right for the time being, but that he was ready to evacuate if he had to. He’d already lost most of the equipment in his garage, and the water was creeping up to his house. Ed is a stubborn son of a gun, and he was going to wait it out as long as he could. I saw him at the community center meeting last Friday afternoon, and he came up to me afterwards to recount what happened shortly after I’d called him. As I suspected, he had to evacuate quickly, which in and of itself is nerve-racking. As he loaded his dog into his canoe, so he could paddle out to his car on dry land, the dog got spooked, and as he was trying to catch the dog, the canoe capsized. My 78 year-old friend and his dog were tossed into the freezing cold water. This was not exactly what he’d planned. He laughed it off and said he just grabbed a bar of soap and had a bath.

It is not uncommon for us to experience mild flooding along our lake, as the spring melt swells local rivers, but this is, according to long time residents of this area, the worst it has been in over 30 years. I gauge the water level by watching our retractable dock sinking into the lake, and presently the fulcrum of the dock, usually four feet above the water level, is now well over a foot underwater. I’ve never seen flooding this bad in our area. The other day I watched a neighbor’s front porch, complete with barbecue, float by. Still this is nothing compared to what others are experiencing. The ground is saturated, there is more rain coming, and what is to be done when there is simply too much water?  

When a dike broke in Ste-Marthe-sur-le-Lac, Quebec, 6500 residents had to be evacuated to higher ground. In the nation’s capital, and nearby Gatineau Quebec, the swollen Ottawa River has prompted evacuations and forced bridge closures. There is major flooding in the Maritimes as well. If this is the new norm, then we’d better start to prepare for it. Already I’m hearing a lot of talk about government requiring flood victims to move to higher ground as a prerequisite for flood relief. That will be a hard sell. I wonder if there isn’t a way to divert water away to man-made reservoirs during these flooding scenarios, but I suspect that would be too expensive. Maybe, as fresh water becomes a more precious commodity, it will pay to pipe it to more arid regions that need water. A friend of mine, presently studying to be an architect, pointed out that my idea, while interesting, would be impractical, given the infrequency of floods.  Perhaps that is true now, but what about when the polar ice cap melts. Hey, I know about as much about climate science as Donald Trump knows about diplomacy.

Fires, floods, ignorant, hateful cowards shooting up places of worship; maybe these are messages from above.  Perhaps when frogs start to rain down from the sky, then we willl begin to take notice.

Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c 2019 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED     

The Oppenheimer Report 4/22/19

It’s very quiet here at Jasper Bark Lodge without our furry little girl. We had Jasper to sleep last Thursday, and while we knew it was the humane thing to do, it is never easy saying farewell to a beloved pet. These past few days have been especially tough, because everywhere in this house are mementos of Jasper’s life. Her toys are still in their toy box, her dog dish sits on the kitchen counter, and of late the counter is full of medications and supplements, signs of her geriatric care. I had taken her to the vet a few weeks ago, because I felt the end was near, but I needed an objective opinion. I was afraid that Shauna and I were too close to her to make the right choice on our own; that we might be in denial. It was confusing, because Jasper was still eating all her food, and she seemed to be holding her own. We reasoned that we (and she) would know when the time came. The vet confirmed my suspicion that several troubling behavioral changes indicated she was quite sick, and that the humane thing was to put her to sleep. I am surprised to find that many vets require a large fee to assess a pet before they will euthanize, and this seems wrong to me. The last thing an owner needs, after making the difficult decision to say farewell to a beloved pet, is to be charged a large fee to confirm the obvious. We sought the vet’s opinion, because Jasper’s case was confusing. People kept telling us, and we believed in our hearts, that we’d know when it was time, but it wasn’t clear to us. She was still eating and eliminating normally, but she was clearly failing. We were unsure whether she was in distress or not.

For any first-time pet owners faced with making this difficult decision, ask yourself the following questions. Does my pet have a good quality of life? Is he or she able to do the things that give him or her joy? For Jasper, that was guarding our house. She was the gatekeeper. She hated rodents, especially squirrels. She once caught and killed a flying squirrel that had somehow managed to enter our house. Those things are not easy to catch, believe me! She was very proud of her duties as watchdog, and albeit a noisy one, she was better than any burglar alarm we’ve ever had. If your pet’s quality of life is bad – and this can be difficult to assess – then it’s time. We were looking for the obvious signs, but the vet said that sometimes it’s hard to tell. With Jasper, there was perhaps evidence of a brain event of some sort. The only way to confirm that was to take her down to Toronto and have an MRI done, at a cost of about $3000. And if it was a brain tumor or lesion of some sort, it wouldn’t have been operable anyway. This was the first time either Shauna or I had had to put a pet down, because Jasper was the first pet we’d actually owned, single or as a couple. Before that, all the family pets, whom we borrowed from time to time, were owned by our parents.

When I asked our vet the questions no pet owner wants to ask, she was very understanding.  She said if it were her dog, she would put her down sooner rather than later. We trust our vet. We chose her because were disenchanted with our local vet, and because some friends had used her when they had their dog put to sleep. They reported that she was fair and compassionate, and she did not require the expensive pre-euthanasia assessment. Our friend’s dog was far more infirmed than Jasper, and could hardly walk, so the idea that it needed an expensive assessment to determine the course of action was absurd. Anyhow, I asked her if she made house calls, but she said we lived too far away. She recommended a mobile vet in Barrie who had once worked for her. Last Thursday afternoon, that vet came our home. She was caring and compassionate, and she made a very hard day a little easier.  She began her mobile vet service, specializing in palliative care and euthanasia, because she knew there were people like Shauna and me who would prefer their pet pass away peacefully at home. Jasper did so, in the comfort of her own home, on the bed she has slept in for many years, with both Shauna and I lying by her side. An emotionally difficult experience was made much easier because we were able to say goodbye to our pet at home. We love you Jasper, rest in peace. 

Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c 2019 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED     

The Oppenheimer Report - 4/15/19

As I begin writing this report today,  the breaking news on television is that Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris is on fire and burning out of control. Concurrently, a message comes across the lower right corner of my computer screen informing me of this sad news. I watch this spectacle unfold in real time, like I’d watch a car wreck; helpless, saddened, but also fascinated. Eight centuries of history goes up in smoke in front of my eyes. As I’ve said over and over, the immediacy of bad news in general has had a cumulative effect on my peace of mind. Shauna just opened up Google Earth, and we had a bird’s eye view of the cathedral, of its remarkable architectural detail, and of its location within Paris. Virtually, we  flew over the building and viewed it from every imaginable angle, examining the roof which has now been largely destroyed. Last week, I spoke of the erosion of my contentment, and I am reminded to seize the day. Even this medieval edifice, in which Napoleon was crowned emperor, and which embodied so much history, will not last forever.

My sister Jill called me yesterday from her home in Virginia, and my immediate reaction was to panic. We don’t speak all that often, and since my parents passed away, we have lost what little touch we had with each other. The moment I saw her number on our call display, my imagination went into overdrive. What’s gone wrong in her family; has one of the kids or grandchildren had a tragic accident, was she diagnosed with a terminal illness, did her house burn down? Why else would my sister be contacting me out of the blue, after so much time? I think I’m experiencing mild and untraceable PTS, and such is the nature of my fight or flight state of mind of late. Why do I immediately gravitate to DEFCON 1 when I get a call from a family member? Over the past ten year, during which Mom and Dad were in the end stages of their lives, and then Shauna’s dad fell ill, there were so many didn’t-see-that-coming phone calls. I seem to have unconsciously harbored the stress from those events, and can’t seem to shed the negative thoughts. I follow my nephews, Jill’s kids and their families, on Facebook, and I take vicarious pleasure in watching their lives unfold in photographs, and reading their posts. This includes the celebration of new pets, exotic travels, not-so-exotic travels, career and educational milestones, etc. But the immediacy of all information these days, verifiable or otherwise, is increasingly overwhelming. Time passes with each click of a mouse, and with every disaster, be it global, local, or familial, I lose a little more of my perspective, of my elusive peace of mind. It’s all going by too fast, swirling like the out-of-control fire that destroys an 800-year-old cathedral. Well, that’s how I feel today.

I’ve heard the expression “heartache” so many times, but I never knew it was an actual feeling. I have been feeling my heart ache for the past few days, as we have arranged to have a vet come into our home this Thursday afternoon to put our beloved Jasper to sleep. Originally, we’d planned to do this Sunday, in order to coincide with a meaningful birthday, oblivious to the fact that it was Easter Sunday. Just shy of fourteen years old, our Jasper has reached her end. As hard as it was to make the call, after a visit to our vet, Shauna and I agreed that this is the humane thing to do. Right now, Jasper is sleeping soundly on the bed, snoring softly, and Shauna is cuddled up next to her. While she no longer knows who we are, for the time being she is comfortable, and she is not alone. Shauna and I will be with her until her final sleep. Fourteen precious years, measured by the life of a pet who has accompanied us everywhere, went by in a flash. I’ve have heard from so many people who have lost old pets over the past year, and I have vicariously felt their pain, knowing that this day would soon come for our girl. To be painless is to consent not to feel.  

Today began with a terrific snowstorm, then later the sun came out and the snow melt was trickling down our driveway. Perhaps this is winter’s last gasp. We may get some more snow, but as I headed over to the general store to pick up our mail, I noticed an ever-widening swath of open water on the frozen lake. Another season has come and gone, and I can’t help but wonder what’s in store for the next one.

Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c 2019 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED     

The Oppenheimer Report 4/8/19

On Hunters Bay Radio, every weekday morning at 10 AM, there is a short segment called Tech 5, produced by my friend and fellow volunteer, Ben Harrison. In it, Ben talks about the effects of science, nature, and technology on mankind. Ben is a little like Andy Rooney without the grumpy demeanor, and his commentaries are always interesting. This morning, while he was discussing the possible resurgence of the Monarch butterfly in North America, he quoted something Nathanial Hawthorne once wrote: “Happiness is a butterfly, which when pursued, is always just beyond your grasp, but which, if you will sit down quietly, may alight on you.” Boy, did that quote hit home.

Last Saturday, I had a whirlwind visit from my best friend Bob Miller, who drove up from Buffalo to see me, then drove home the next day. Though we talk on the phone regularly, we had not seen each other in a long time. Bob and I spent much of our wild youth together, and  many of my fondest (and embellished) memories occurred in his company. After I married Shauna and moved up to Toronto, Bob and I didn't see each all that much, but we made a point to meet at least a few times a year. For a while, before we both quit drinking, that included an annual raucous weekend in Niagara Falls, Ontario. Don’t ask me why, but we were particularly drawn to the wax museums featuring macabre chambers of horrors and monsters. There is something about stumbling around drunk in wax museums that appealed to both of us. Go figure. I think perhaps it reminded us of our summers partying in Crystal Beach. Anyhow, circumstances have precluded our last few visits, and Bob was kind enough to make the four-hour drive to break that cycle.

As I have often said in these reports, time seems to be shooting by much faster in the second half of my life. Of late, I have been experiencing a perplexing and unshakeable anxiousness. Many of my peers have relayed similar experiences, and for some, not all of us, life’s ever-compounding complications have taken their toll on our contentment. It’s been a challenging couple of years for Shauna and me, and especially for Shauna. We have not had much of a social life since she experienced a neurological attack in the summer of 2017, an illness which nearly robbed her of her eyesight. Complications from the medications prescribed to keep her from going blind have left her almost constantly exhausted and discouraged. To compound problems, the past several months have been particularly isolating, because our beloved dog Jasper is slowly failing. Jasper has been so much a part of our lives over the past 14 years, we simply lost track of time. She watched our house being built and she has been our almost constant companion. A childless couple, we have likely projected a disproportionate amount of our love on this little ragamuffin.  Last Friday we made the hard decision to have her put to sleep in a week or two. Believe me, I get the irony of someone like me, who falls into the top one percentile of most fortunate people in the world, complaining about his charmed life. I am not completely without perspective about my good fortune. The fact is, no one escapes the fickle finger of fate, and it seems that, mired in my regret over the troubles which plague everyone, I sometimes lose sight of the joy that is all around me.

Certainly Shauna has centered this sometimes rudderless ship for the past 25 years, and there is nothing so rewarding as the love of a person who knows me better than anyone else does. Bob is a close second; he and I have been friends for almost fifty years. We grew up in the same neighborhood, and we've had a lot of fun together over the years. Last Saturday night I had a strong, albeit brief reminder of the blessings of friends and family. I needed that kick in the ass. After  dinner at the new and improved Landmark Pub in Burk’s Falls, we came home and, in front of a roaring fire, I and one of my best and  oldest friends did what we have been doing for the past five decades: we hung out and listened to music; for six hours. I have unwittingly allowed life’s countless curveballs and sucker punches to chip away at my contentment, but the joy is always there, somewhere beneath the surface. A short visit from a close friend reminded me of this and afforded me some much-needed perspective. In front of the flickering amber light of the fireplace flames, in an otherwise dark living room, as we listened to the entire Twelve Dreams Of Dr. Sardonicus album (you must listen to the entire album turned up loud), and my anxiousness abated. It was as if a butterfly had landed on my toe. 

Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c 2019 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED     

The Oppenheimer Report - 4/1/19

Happy April Fools Day! Last Thursday night, I was at the radio station broadcasting my show, and I was about halfway through it when the phone rang. I rarely pick up a call at the station when I'm doing my show, but I wondered who might be calling so late. If Shauna needed to reach me in an emergency, she’d call my cell or text. After the second call, and about ten rings, I finally answered the phone. The guy on the other end of the line was calling to ask about the Hunters Bay Radio Super Jackpot Radio Bingo game. For those readers who are not local, Hunters Bay offers a radio bingo game on Monday nights, and it’s a lot of fun. Players send funny on-air shout outs to each other, and the odds of winning some money are pretty good.  There are five games in all, and the prizes increase with each game, with the potential to win the $4000 super jackpot in the last game. The profits from the game go directly back into the community we serve, so not only is radio bingo fun to play, but the money raised is used to do good things. The caller said he’d been listening to the station and wanted to know how he could play. Ever the promoter of the radio station, and eager to encourage another player to join in, I began to give him the various locations locally where he could purchase bingo cards. When I asked him where he lived, so I could recommend the nearest location, he said he was calling from Airdrie, Alberta! Unfortunately, our bingo game is only legal in the Province of Ontario, but I was delighted to learn that we have listeners in Alberta! Perhaps he was just playing an early April Fools joke on me, who knows. I often feature Western artists on my show, and this does sometimes attract listeners from out of province.

Hunters Bay Radio does not track their audience, as do many commercial stations. It is an expensive undertaking and, as a community radio station, we have not so far attracted many national sponsors. That said, I often wonder what our reach is, and how many people might be listening online. I naturally assume that my audience is not very large, but I don’t know. If I play an original song that might not otherwise get radio exposure, the featured artist might ask his or her friends to listen online to hear the song. While our FM signal is not very strong - on a clear day we may be heard as far south as Orillia, and perhaps a little further north than South River – we have no idea how many listeners might be tuning in online. Hunters Bay Radio recently applied for a permit to boost our signal with a repeater in Bracebridge, to fill in a lot of our dead zones in that area, but we were met with significant opposition from the area’s commercial stations. They spent a lot of money to campaign against our expansion, and their efforts succeeded, because our application was rejected by the CRTC. How a small community radio station in Huntsville is any competition for commercial radio stations with a far greater broadcasting range is a mystery to me. I suspect that the mere fact that the commercial stations are trying to keep us from expanding our audience is a sign that they feel threatened. I despise most commercial pop radio, and increasingly, it seems to promote the worst music money can buy.  I forced myself to listen to an hour of Moose FM the other day, and it was quite simply abysmal. Music lovers in our community know that Hunters Bay Radio wins hands down in the music programming department.   

I was curious about wherein began the tradition of promoting hoaxes on the first of April, and there is evidence that the tradition dates back many centuries. Some suggest Chaucer started the tradition when he referred to the non-existent date “32 March” in his Canterbury Tales. Some suggest it is merely a light-hearted celebration in anticipation of springtime, dating back to the Julian calendar, wherein the vernal equinox marked the beginning of the New Year. Whatever its origin, it is not universally celebrated, and there is sometimes debate about what is considered funny. There was one hoax in Boston, wherein some DJs at a radio station declared that Boston’s mayor had been killed in a car accident. The people responsible for the hoax were summarily fired. The other problem with April Fools hoaxes is that some news is deemed to be a hoax when in fact it is true. I suggest we all double check our news today, because, as the above-referenced photo points out, the truth is sometimes stranger than fiction. By the way, here’s a little message for the local commercial radio stations, Happy April Fools Day. You may have the money, but we've got the soul. 

Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c 2019 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED