Friday, August 28, 2020
Monday, August 17, 2020
The Oppenheimer Report 8/17/20
https://muskokaradio.com/news/article/the-oppenheimer-report-august-17-2020
Wednesday, August 12, 2020
The Oppenheimer Report 8/3/20
I wrote about the unlimied class hydroplane, “Wildroot Charlie”, a boat my grandfather’s company sponsored. That boat was racing when I was a toddler, and it was quite successful under my grandfather’s sponsorship. I’ve always been fascinated with hydroplanes and other fast boats. The sensation of speed is considerably greater on water than on land. When I was a kid, I loved going fast on the water.
As a high school student in Buffalo, NY around 1970, I built a small Glen L design “Minimax” boat in shop class, with considerable help from my shop teacher, Mike O’Connell. I remember almost passing out from paint fumes one afternoon while spray painting it in the basement shop at school. I also remember launching it in the school pool, accompanied by a large crowd of curious onlookers. The problem was, I had not yet mounted the bolts for the motor board, so it started to take on water as soon as we put it in the pool. That was a little embarrassing, but it floated, and I had a lot of fun with that little boat over the years. It wasn’t terribly fast, but it was so low to the water that it felt fast. Of course, I had to experiment with overpowering it, and one day, mounted a friend’s 18HP Evinrude on it. The motor was much too heavy for the boat, and there was approximately 2” of freeboard off the transom. We took it out on a glass calm day, and it was definitely faster than it had been powered by my 5.5HP Johnson. It was a little tricky to drive, especially when coming off plane. The motor was so heavy that it would swamp the boat. Last weekend, I was at our dock on Little Doe Lake, and our next door neighbour Matthew Misler motored by in the same boat I had owned. Imagine my surprise! He called his watercraft a “Sea Flea” but it was the exact same Glen L designed boat. I’m not sure I still have any photos of mine.
Another memorable boat in my fleet was my 13’ Boston Whaler. That boat was bulletproof, but not particularly comfortable to ride in on a rough day. My friend Bob Miller and I used to take our boats “jumping” off Point Abino, near
Crystal Beach Amusement Park, Ontario, Canada
. As I’ve said before, Lake Erie can be a treacherous lake for steep chop, because it is the shallowest of the Great Lakes. The waves off the
Point Abino
lighthouse were notoriously steep and deep. Jumping is a young man’s sport, and especially in a 13’ Boston Whaler. No one ever wanted to go for a boat ride with me when the lake was rough, because those Whaler wooden seats were hard on the back. Bob and I used to joke that the Boston Whaler company should have sponsored me because I proved the unsinkability of their boats. Their ads used to feature one of their boats sawed in half and still floating, but I think they should have demonstrated what the boat can do in rough water. Regrettably, we have no video or photographs of some of our wilder jumping experiences, but let’s just say we both scared ourselves a few times. I remember jumping a freighter wake once and almost flipping my boat backwards. The wind came up under the bow, and for a good 2 or 3 seconds, I did not know which way the boat was going to land. There are moments of sheer terror when one commits to jumping a swell. As well, there is a certain Zen to it. Once you’re in the air, there’s really no turning back. I suppose it’s a rush similar to what a surfer feels when he or she drops off a big swell.
These days, our jumping boats are a little more seaworthy. Bob has a vintage 27’ Magnum Sedan Cruiser with twin V8s and a deep V hull. As I mentioned, I have a 20’ Hydra-Sports boat which puts the Whaler to shame. The last time I went jumping with Bob was several years ago in his Magnum. We were offshore, south of Buffalo, and the swells were perfect for jumping. I (we) probably won’t be doing that much longer. Oh, to be young and immortal again. That’s the myth isn’t it? When we were young, we weren’t immortal; we were just young, stupid, and lucky. I feel truly blessed to have come out of my ill-spent youth relatively unscathed. Every so often, I still get the urge to drive a 3-point racing hydroplane at high speed. Perhaps when I turn 70.
Written by
Jamie Oppenheimer
©2020 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED JamieOppenheimerSongwriter@gmail.comThe Oppenheimer Report 8/12/20
As I’ve mentioned before, I’ve been writing this report and publishing it every Monday for almost 30 years. In 1992, when I started writing it, I had a mailing list of “12 loyal readers” and I printed the reports on both sides of original photo postcards, using a very loud dot matrix printer. Every postcard was hand stamped with a signature comedic image of me looking goofy, wearing a wig, and an antler headband. Someday (and time’s running out), when I become a famous writer, those printed cards are going to be collectors' items, worth tens of dollars. The point is, those first reports were an effort to connect through writing.
Over the years, and depending on the subject of that week’s report, my readership may have grown a little from the original 12. Certainly, the internet helped increase my distribution. I don’t know how many people actually read the report, but I do sometimes get feedback from strangers, ranging from “Great report!” to “You are an idiot!”. “Flamers” and “trolls” come with the territory and I expect that. Still, I am always encouraged if my words inspire any dialogue, and I am delighted when readers take the time to respond to the reports, be their responses positive or negative.
Over 20 years ago, while I was still working in Toronto, I wrote a tongue-in-cheek report about bagels, suggesting that nobody in Canada knows how to make a good bagel. I said that the Montreal bagels are no better than dinner rolls and that none of the Canadian bagels I’ve tried, remotely compare in taste and texture to a good Manhattan bagel. Believe it or not, my blasphemous proclamation stirred up the ever-brewing bagel debate, and I even received a little hate mail. People apparently have strong opinions about their bagels. I’m not sure why that particular report was so well circulated by fax and email, but it seemed to “go viral” as they say. I figured that was the end of it, but a few weeks later, I was working at my cubicle at Royal LePage, when I was summoned to the reception desk. In response to my report, some anonymous reader from New York City had sent me a dozen fresh New York bagels via FedEx, with no return address. I asked 3 of my friends in Manhattan, with whom I shared the report, who they think might have sent me the bagels, but to this day, it remains a mystery. Let it suffice to say, I was flattered that someone went to the trouble and expense to do that. I’m not exactly sure how they found out where I worked, which was a little spooky.
Jump ahead to the recent past, when I wrote a few reports about fast boats. Especially the Sea Flea Oppenheimer Report elicited a lot of responses. One of our friends from Banff, Alberta, a guy named Bob Barrie, used to be one of the owners of Bumpers Beef House, a well-known restaurant in Banff. He wrote me in response to my “Wildroot Charlie” article and asked during what period she raced. It turns out that his friend's uncle had a hydroplane named “Miss Supertest” that raced in the same class and around the same time. Coincidentally, I’d just received an email from my cousin Harry Lehman III, my grampy Harry Lehman’s other grandson, informing me that he had located the last surviving member of Wildroot Charlie’s pit crew. He provided me a link to that man’s Facebook page, which I immediately visited, and there in the photo sections, was an old photo of Wildroot Charlie and Miss Supertest, racing side by side on (I think) the Niagara River. Of course, I immediately sent the photo on to Bob in Banff. It’s fun to connect the dots.
Writing, both songs and these reports, has always been my way to connect with other people. At a time when communication is on injured reserve, I hope the things I write inspire some kind of positive dialogue. I’m not so full of myself as to assume my words will change the world. I do think that any dialogue, any story told and heard, is a step in the right direction. The next time you are inclined to write “RU OK??” or some other inane abbreviation for real communication, in a tweet or text, consider writing an entire sentence. Better yet, write a letter (or make a phone call) to an old friend or family member with whom you have not communicated in a while. Make that connection, because it’s good for the soul.
And whoever sent those bagels, 23ish years ago, if you’re reading this, thank you, they were delicious and please, identify yourself!
Written by Jamie Oppenheimer ©2020 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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