The Oppenheimer Report - 10/12/15

Most anyone who reads this report semi regularly knows that, for the past several weeks, I have been a whiney bitch about turning sixty. Because Shauna has been quite ill lately, I did not want her knocking herself out to throw a big party. She threw me a fantastic surprise party when I turned 50, which included all our parents (only one is now alive), and a lot of dear friends. It was a great dinner, held at the Oban Inn in Niagara-on-the-Lake, where we first met, and it was a wonderful celebration. When last Thursday rolled around, I figured I was off the hook, and we could let this little milestone slip by without much fanfare. Shauna and I agreed that my gift would be a vintage electric guitar of my choice, selected from Currie Brothers Music store in Gravenhurst, sometime in the near future. I was perfectly happy to spend my birthday broadcasting Lyrical Workers, alone, at the Hunter’s Bay Radio studio. I’d spent a long time, gathering birthday songs from some of my listeners and musician friends, previewing weird songs on the internet, and dredging up a few of my original birthday songs. My plan was to do the show, perhaps to get home earlier than usual, and have a late dinner while watching really bad reality television with my wife.

 

Shauna and I have a little birthday custom - we annually recycle dollar store birthday decorations purchased a decade or more ago. The morning of my birthday I woke up to the obligatory tattered “Happy Birthday” signs and crepe, decorating the house, along with love notes strategically posted on mirrors here and there. The love notes are my favorite part, and I save some of them every year. I had a lot of messages from friends and family acknowledging the day and I was delighted by all the attention.

 

I became a little suspicious when Shauna seemed to be unusually concerned about the timing of my show. Did I know how long it would take me to do it, what time did I think I’d be done?  I figured she just wanted me to get home earlier. Then, my suspicions were heightened. I got a message from one of the hosts at the station, informing me that I could load in my show early, because there was no live show. That was a little unusual. I went to the station, mildly apprehensive that there might be some kind of impromptu surprise when I got there. I arrived, but no one was there save for the host I was relieving. I chatted with Barry for a while, then did my three hour show. This birthday show was important to me, and I wanted to make it as interesting as I could. That meant doing a little last minute online research, and I took my time. As I locked up the station and walked out the door, there in the rain appeared a group of my musician friends, who jumped out of the darkness to surprise me. That they did; I nearly soiled myself. In a comedy of errors, they thought I’d be done much earlier, and because the station door was locked, they couldn’t sneak in to surprise me earlier. I understand they were out there for over an hour waiting. I later read posts about all the crazy planning that went into this surprise party, and found out just how complicated and crazy things got. More people planned to attend, but it was after all a school night and it was, after all, quite late. I feel terrible for all the people who waited outside in the cold for me to emerge, but I had no idea any of this was going on. My friend Juan Barbosa and Shauna were the ringleaders, but there were many others peripherally involved. To all those who showed up and kidnapped me to Boston Pizza, thank you for your incredible patience and for staying up so late on a weeknight. To everyone else who participated in the plot, even those who were not able to attend (including my sneaky wife), thank you for the love. The messages, both text and on Facebook, were hilariously memorable.

 

At least two attendees told me they were concerned about surprising a guy who was turning 60, outside in the dark. I am here to tell you, my heart is strong, and apparently so are yours. Thank you everyone for making this birthday memorable, and for all the good people I am able to call friends.

 

Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2015 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED