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| Cardboard Boat Races at the Kearney Regatta |
Last weekend, we entertained my best friend from Buffalo and his wife,
who battled the notorious cottage traffic on Hwy 11, on one of the busiest
weekends of the summer, in order to spend a couple of days with us. What a
pleasure it was to have them here, and to spend a day on the boat with one of
my oldest boating companions. On any given weekend, during the summers of our
ill-spent youth, Bob and I could usually be found on the choppy waters of Lake
Erie, he in a 16’ Starcraft, and I in my 13’ Boston Whaler, searching for the
ultimate cabin cruiser or lake freighter wake to jump. He’s now doing his
jumping in a vintage, twin screw 27’ Magnum, and I own a very seaworthy 20’
fishing boat, but neither of us does much serious jumping anymore. It took me
an embarrassingly long time to figure out that, surprisingly, I am not
immortal. Shortly after I moved up to Toronto from Buffalo, I kept my boat at a
marina near the Toronto Harbor, and one brisk fall day, I took it out for a
ride by myself. Then in my late thirties I still did not have the good sense to
wear a life preserver, but at least I had the kill switch attached to me as I
headed out into the fall swells of Lake Ontario. I spotted a large ship leaving
the harbor and decided to jump its wake. Call it an ill-timed attack of nostalgia,
I don’t know what possessed me to be so stupid, but for just one moment I threw
caution to the wind and headed across this enormous ship wake. Once I had
committed to the jump it was too late to stop, but I knew in the last split
second before I hit the wake that it was a mistake. The boat and motor left the
water, I went airborne, and it was definitely the highest jump I have ever achieved
in that boat. I ended up on the floor of my stalled boat – thank goodness for
kill switches - looking up at the stern of the departing ship long enough to
see several of the crew members laughing and pointing at my idiocy. Short of my
bruised ego I came out of it without a scratch. It took me thirty-eight years
to retire from wave jumping, but that little adventure sealed the deal.
While I do not often perform my songs in public, this is a busy several
weeks for me. I played a set of my songs at the Kearney Regatta this past weekend,
and just before they headed back down to Buffalo, our guests Bob and Laura were
in attendance. I’m not sure they had ever seen me perform in public before, and
I was flattered that they chose to join me. In the “small world” department, I
have to mention a little story about that performance. My songwriter friend
Doug McLean was in charge of sound and stage for that Kearney venue, and he
performed just before me. Accompanying him was a fellow musician named Mike,
and while I was getting ready to go on, Mike commented on the 1962 K “Red Devil”
I was going to play, and he said “Gee that guitar looks familiar.” One doesn’t
see those guitars all that often, so I was intrigued. It turns out that Mike
was the former owner of the guitar, and recognized it from some of the custom
work he had done to it, including the replacement of the tuning keys. What are
the chances that I would meet, much less perform for, the guy who had formerly
owned my 44 year old electric guitar?! Mike had sold the guitar in Collingwood
many years ago, and when I asked the music store owner from whom I’d purchased
the guitar, he confirmed that he had picked it up from the Collingwood area. Next
weekend for the Hunters Bay Radiothon fundraiser I am to play several songs live
on air and then the following weekend I will play on the smaller of two stages
at the Burk’s Falls Country Jamboree, along with a long list of other local
artists. I’m using that K more and more these days, as I become more
comfortable with its heft and long neck.
Yes, I watched the conventions in the States with some interest. My
intuition is that now that the dust has settled, and no matter how much Hillary
is deemed to be the untrustworthy representative of the status quo, she will be
the candidate of choice for the majority of American voters. If anything good
can be gleaned from all of this, it is that the American political system needs
reform. The remarkable success of both Trump and Sanders is I think a
not-so-subtle reminder that the American voting public is angry about the way
things are. While it may be that we end up choosing the lesser of two evils,
the optimist in me is hoping that this “uprising” will finally lead to some
real progress on campaign reform. Despite all the rhetoric about the rigged
system, we still have the option to vote for the candidate who is not the demagogue. Regardless of the glaring
flaws in our system, I think democracy and freedom are still ours to lose, and
I hope, perhaps naively, that we the electorate will eventually find that
leader we need to move ahead. While I don’t think Bernie was that guy, his
popularity and message were to me encouraging for positive change. In the
meantime, and while it is a long time until November, I think we’ll end up
settling for Hillary. I predict Trump will self-destruct when he enters the
debate phase, and his latest faux pas regarding that gold star mother simply
illustrates his arrogance, pettiness, and disregard for diplomacy. The best line
in the Democratic Convention: “Don’t boo, VOTE!”
Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2016 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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