Jasper surveys the latest snowfall |
Apparently we missed the starting gun for
winter … I was not prepared! We were a little late scheduling an appointment to have our snow tires put on. After the first significant snowfall a few weeks ago, we
called to schedule a service appointment, but the dealership where we store our
snow tires was so backed up, it was a week before we could be penciled in. Shauna
and I have had three occasions to travel south in the past week or two, twice
to Orillia and once to Barrie. Both of these places are in the heart of Ontario’s
snow belt, and on two of those three trips, we experienced blinding snow squalls.
One minute the sky was clear and the next minute we could not see the cars directly
in front of us. It’s feakin’ mid-November! Today, I went to Burk’s Falls for my
first physiotherapy session and I was a little concerned about getting out of
our driveway. Yesterday, we had a lake effect squall that dumped about 8-10
inches of wet snow (see photo above). Thankfully, our snowplow guy was on top of the situation,
or I would have been in trouble. It could be a long winter up here in the near
north.
Last Monday I got the green light from my surgeon to begin physiotherapy
on my shoulder. I no longer need to wear a sling, and the arm feels pretty
good. Today’s session at the physiotherapist involved assessing my current range
of motion and taking benchmark measurements to gauge future improvement. I’m a little sore now, but my incentive is
that, once things have loosened up a bit, I might again be able to hold a
guitar for longer than ten minutes without discomfort. I’ll do whatever it takes in order to get my
strength and mobility back. I won’t do anything until the therapist gives me
the go ahead, but I have a lot of songs brewing in my head, and I'm eager to get that guitar back in my hands.
Some of my songwriter friends up here are putting out a Christmas album
of songs for the holidays, and I believe most or all of those songs are
originals. I got a sneak preview the other day of a song written by my friend
Scott Gilson and his partner Amber. It’s called Anticipate and Scott, famous for his unusual guitar tunings, has
created a beautifully hypnotic melody for this one. I love the song and I’m
looking forward to hearing what the other artists have to contribute as well.
All the proceeds for the sale of the CD will go to local food banks, and this is
the kind of music project that truly reflects the holiday spirit. Personally, I
was never a fan of Christmas, for all the obvious reasons. My songs about Christmas
– and I have written two so far – are, not surprisingly, a little dark. The first
one is called Nothing Comes for Free and
it is a preachy, self-righteous song (Jamie Oppenheimer, preachy and
self-righteous? Preposterous!) about the excessive materialism of the Christmas holiday.
It is so frightfully dismal and depressing I dare not play it in public, or
for anyone really. Thematically, this
song lies somewhere between Edgar Allen Poe and Dickens, complete with starving
paupers and destitute homeless geriatrics, freezing to death on street corners…
a real toe tapper. Sometimes I need to get a song like that out of my system …
like diarrhea. A second more recent song I wrote, entitled Merry Christmas to Me, is I think a much stronger song, written
from personal experience. When I was sixteen, still living in Buffalo, and
during the height of my rebellious youth, I and my cousin John hitched downtown
to go to a wild Christmas party. We were picked up by a guy dressed as Santa, driving
a beat up red Ford Van - one of those
older hippie vans with the cool headlights. In the passenger seat was another
guy, dressed as and elf, and the two of them were half in the bag, drinking Jack
Daniels out of the bottle, smoking a joint, and I’m guessing high some kind of hallucinogen as well. Exhibiting the good judgment that so
effectively guided me through my teen years, I had no problem accepting a ride
from these toasted gentleman, and the song tells the story of that memorable,
snowy night. There’s a little hyperbole and poetic license thrown in for good
measure, but the message of that song, while somewhat grim, is more focused and
personal.
“I used to live my life spontaneously
Embellishing my clouded memories
I viewed the future apprehensively
But that was long before your love came to me.”
I may not drink anymore, but I still embellish my clouded memories;
I am still the rebel without a clue. If you do plan to party - and by all means, knock yourselves out - find
yourself a designated driver, or take a cab. Do not, under any circumstances
accept a ride from a guy smoking a joint, drinking hard liquor out of the bottle, and pretending to be Santa; that’s a “red flag.” Santa would never do that.
Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2014 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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