Resonance and Future Echoes

I spoke with someone from "High-School-days" this evening - just before dinner.

She told me things in passing, which had a strange and profound resonance within me; things I would have acted upon back in those days of youth and folly. And I thought, how many people could or might have said similar nice things to me if I had given them a half a chance back then. And how many would know what I have thought of them - my personal observances of their fine natures.

At this juncture -this late stage in life, I can at least, meet with some at the reunion and tell them. No-not overly romantic, but no less significant; perhaps something they never realized, that they can carry with them into the future; private messages they would not otherwise have known, without this occasion, things that accrue in true life-value as we age.

I could tell Barry Jones, how I loved having tea with his mother- she had such a smile and gleam in her eye- and how for a time he was the closest thing to a brother I had ever known and sometimes he still is.

I could tell Margaret how lovely she was - how her spirit, joy and rippling brook laughter have given me such wonderful memories at different times in my life - just by thinking upon her smile or looking at the dam.

I could tell Debbie Kaye Phillipowski that she and Garth are respected and admired by many who still remember them -even if from afar and that the apple does not fall far from the tree. -Chateaugauy is blessed to have such families.

I could tell Jane Spratt that tears of Joy and Sorrow, even in grade five were never wasted and her presence was ever felt and appreciated all through high school- but like pearls before swine, little boys for the most part are, invariably, lacking in good graces and are lucky should they acquire them in the passage of time.


And then there is the angelic and maybe not so angelic Louise Lacey - loved by all her friends. Here is- how we still see her in our mind's eye- from a time of wonder, a time of magic, indeed- a time of light.


So Chateaugauy is beginning to heat up now - Kahnawake too, with so many planning on converging.

Seventeen days left to REUNION.

Friday at the hotel in the "Greeting Suite" on the second floor of the Hotel - Richard, Lynda and I will be welcoming incoming travelers. Perhaps Jane Ashley -my wife- may join me.

Louise, her crew and I will put up some pictures at the school in the afternoon but then I'll head back to the suite at the hotel.

Meanwhile there are numerous parties planned Friday night, in and around Chateauguay and at the Alibi.

Then next day -Saturday Kick-off is at 11:00 a.m. since there may be "work" being done on the bridge, so the key idea is to come out and see the school and visit some friends but then head on back in by 3:00PM or 4:00PM to get ready for the Bash at the Dorval Hilton in the evening commencing around 7:00.

You just need to be paid-up in advance and on our list. (Pay instantly at the hsbalumni.com site.)

You may buy a ticket (now) for the morning Kick-Off at the school for $25 if you plan on doing something else during the rest of the day or if you prefer not coming to the school - drop by in the evening after dinner at the Hotel for around 10:00PM for the music and Social reunion dancing and music $35 (paid in advance). Of course there is greater value in attending the morning, the dinner and the bash $100 which includes the MC activities of John Saunders and Colleen Hillock between 7:00PM - 10:00 and perhaps more thereafter. I think I'll bring a video camera for that!

There are still some sitting on the fence and some I consider key pieces of our mosaic who seem to be choosing to side step the event - money, insecurity, incapacity or letharic spirit-whatever the reason, in the end it will be their loss. You know you'll get into it once you get there. The talk is going round now, the momentum is building.

There are many now, who make up the best parts of our collective past committed to attend. There is still time yet -but not much.

On The Bright Side

In High School there were a number of us who were just a little too clever. But then there were those who were gifted with the sense that our parents wished we all could have.
They knew better than to make snarky remarks in class when the teacher was in listening distance. This wasn't because they were flying below the radar or were sneaky. No.
They just had 'sense'.
Well at least to me they did.

Peter Wares, Richard Beauchamp and David Murdoch were three such people. I just hope they can let that guard down a bit now and come for a visit.

By the way Peter -say 'Hi' to Lois and the kids for Me and Jane... we miss you both.
Oh yes- Richard still looks this good!

And David??? It's been years -love to see him again. Is he still with Anne?
L

At least three of this line-up will be there and one said she would...but.





Four out of eight from this picture below are scheduled to show.

Can you guess who will be there?
The absent ones are still absent...so far.




At least two of those on this team will be there.
Guess who.











And one for sure on this team will be there. Another even approached me in the super market and asked expressly for all the info and said she would... but -oh well .....

Rick Rice In His Element






So I made my way over to Kahnawake yesterday and picked up Rick and then we booted into the City to pick up Mark Stafford at CHOM FM.
I hadn't realized that these two, who used to blaze the contemporary 'troubadour trail' with Roddy McManus, had not seen each other since 1972/73.
But there was something I sensed in this meeting-the bond - the music -'the life', those with the magic we used to see and hear- the humour, was still there.
I think -with a little luck, we'll be in for a treat once Dave Glass pulls into town.

Oh - and Karen Green wants me to let you all know (as she has discovered) that it is not too late to sign up.
Damn! Did I go and leave that door open?
Oh well use it now, you never know when it will close.

Before we cracked through the '100-people-paid' mark, the concept was to keep things
'all-inclusive', but now, since we are at 135 or so, we can afford to have a little more latitude.

So, I suspect that by the beginning of next week, those who have not yet paid because they only want to go to the school but not the main evening event, may be able to pay on-line for a '$25 Morning-Kick -Off' ticket, to attend the big kick-off on the Saturday morning to gain admittance to the Moshure Auditorium.

Also for those who want to avoid the main Dinner and Social Event, but perhaps swing by for drinks, blend in with the crowd and perhaps hear some live music in the bargain (AFTER 10:00 PM) - well, - we could have the 'After Dinner Tickets' on sale for $35 on-line or paid in advance by cheque also by the end of this week or beginning of next.

But be forewarned, (as one of my teachers used to say with index finger raised) if you wait to pay at the door, prices will be raised above these levels, so please do us all an administrative favor to prevent us having to collect money at the door- pay on line or by cheque in advance to keep your price low.

All considered though, the savings and value of the whole event including dinner and wine etc. at $100 per person or $175 per spousal couple is still the best value for the dollar -especially when adding on the hotel discount for rooms and free parking for the "all-in" ticket.
L

Name Game

I have been asking people the question..."What motivates you to join in a reunion?"

Some of the responses have been:
1) nostalgia .
2) enjoyment of social occasions.
3) curiosity.
4) coming home and looking around.
5) for those who still live here, simply seeing who is willing to come back to this little spot on the map.
6) for some who had strong networks in high-school-times but feel marginalized by life to some degree now, the magnet pull of the old gang "feel" just one more time.
7) the possibility of seeing 'the one(s) who got away'.

But it was suggested to me recently that I should list a few of the key names of people who are paid-up and going since no one likes feeling left out. And, if one's friends are seen as "going" -well ... I guess this would be a subtle form of peer pressure, in that one might not want to have left oneself out -cutting of the nose despite one's face (as it were).

OK so let's have a look at a modest and incomplete list of names of just some of those who we know for sure are paid up and going (in no particular order)- "Yeah, I guess this counts as name dropping, so tough, - these are people I am very proud to know.":

John Saunders, Rick Rankin, Susan Deliva, Margaret Kavenagh, Susan Davis, Mark Stafford, Anne Christine Gurholt, Joanne Beda-Tansey, Carol Mates, Barry Jones, Rickey Rice, Irene Grant-Smith, Yens Harnest, Bruce Craig, Ron Enros, Mr.Mcrea (teahcer), Rick Jones, Cheryl Mates-Jones, Kathie Parsons-Harnest, Bobbie Houston, Vincent Murphy, Roddy McManus, Bernetta Starkey(Mclean), Jimmy Williams, Anne Kavenagh, Seleda Williams, David Glass, Ingrid Gurholt, Stephan Fuchs, Gabrielle Kerth-Houston, Judy Vokey-Mutch, Mike 'to ski or not to ski' Voizard, Barbara Trampf-Zimmerman, Les McConnell, Joe Doucet, David Poirier, Susan Walsh, Lorraine Robichaud-D'Aguilar, Andrew Mutch, Colleen Hillock, Garth Phillipowsky, Gervase Bushe, Debbie Hanney, Barry Stevens, Rick McCallum, Doug MacKenzie, Carol Anne Robichaud, Robin Moody, Steve Devlin, Debbie Yeudall, Lynda Young, Daniel Zimmerman, Tom Heggisson, Pat DuCaen, Eileen Henneman, Hopeton D'Aguilar, Debbie Kaye and many more.

I would list a lot more, but it's time to go out and do the groceries. I am telling you this is getting good.

By note to Rickey Rice and Mark Stafford and Roddy McManus - remember we meet sometime this coming week to discuss the possibility of the Saturday Night set of songs to play (Live Rock and Roll) in addition to the recorded music that will be played. I will be copying in Dave Glass and Jack Kennedy on our discussions. I wonder if Dave or Steve Poirier might be into this aspect of the Reunion? Steve as usual is hanging back.

As I discovered the hard way with the "passing" of one of our old friends last week- there are sometimes good reasons other than shyness or other less than serious reasons to not be interested in one significant life marker time.

Sure would be neat if Sonja and Rodger were to respond but...ah...'hard to get'...come on - you know you want to come.

Someone please call Danny Lee and Marty Calligan get them into this. I do not have their numbers.

AND I LIKE IT ! YES I DO!

I guess the only question to ask would be - other than dire medical and financial reasons, why not reunion?

Fear? Fear of what people might think or say of what we look like now? - or I am not a success yet and I'll feel small by those who seem to have success... wel if these last two are the ones you hold tight to... then yes - please stay home.

Those of us who are attending simply don't care about that stuff. All of us with bags under our eyes, scars, lack of hair, extra mega pounds of fat, still not millionaires yet- well, we know what we know and see our own deficiencies in our own lives, we are going to the reunion to hug people we haven't seen in ages, to have a good time and celebrate what we do have - an inclusive community. If you choose to leave yourself out, then perhaps you are doing us a favour. But chances are you are undervaluing yourself needlessly and not even giving us or yourself a chance. As long as you pay the fee like everyone else ...then just as in those summer memories and school times - consider yourself at home, part of our family. Everything is good. And we do miss you. Come on down.

Mark Stafford.

Earlier in the blog -months ago there is a picture, black and white of Mark, Roddy and Romy in the control room of the student radio station.

Well here is Mark Stafford in his control room at CHOM FM/CJFM. He is still tall with hypnotizing eyes and mellow tones. The essential Mark, gentleman and scholar of life , is still there.

Just don't ask about snow-boarding.

Look Familiar?

A Friend In Deed

I have come to the conclusion that running a business is similar to the game of Golf. Fortunately I am better at the former than the latter.

A business can give you tremendous highs and cause learning of true humility in the lows. In both, there is requirement to attain a certain Zen persistence and letting go, - a certain attainment of knowing when to go further and when to recede.

When it comes to the practice of enterprise development, especially in understanding what will make a business run -and run well, there is one man I know who, in my opinion is a Zen Master- he is like a golf pro of business. Like a tracker -he can read the ground, surroundings and know almost intuitively -not just a general direction, but specifically, which is the most effective way to go.

Yet he is comfortable not having all the answers all of the time. He knows better than that and surrounds himself with those who demonstrate results in their fields -be it law, finance, marketing, sales, investment, management and makes them into players on a team -all enjoying the game. He knows the secret, that while working hard will help, working smart, - is all.

He is approachable, jovial, always ready to laugh and enjoy life. And if you are lucky enough to get caught up in his day, you may discover his technique for asking questions -always asking questions. And boy, can he listen. ( It's all about detail right?)

He seems to be continually collecting pieces of the grater puzzle. To watch and listen to him in his quest, is really something- because before you know it, he will take two separate strands of thought -and come to a conclusion that will provide the essence of a new successful business.

That which is hidden or lost in plain site is taken in hand, held up for close inspection, loose assumptions discarded leaving opportunities to be found.

Whether you may have known him before or thought you had known him, if you do get the chance to bump into him at the reunion, make a point of establishing him as a future contact - friend or possible venture capitalist or adviser to a business problem. He is a man of charm, good taste and is well worth knowing.

He is Bob Houston.

Teachers Unsung Heroes

Can you imagine what it is like to teach?

How can you inspire someone to 'WANT to learn' ?



One becomes a student only after the curiosity to go forward has been awoken.

The awakening of that inner you or me needs a guide -a Merlin- who might make us "ready", for our own point of departure or flight, to new levels of awareness -to lead us to pull our own swords out of the mystic stone.

And what is a teacher? Surely not simply a nine to five dispenser of a given brand of information.

A high-school teacher unlike a University Professor, has the toughest job of all -competing with young adults' emerging raging hormones and testosterone fueled bravado. This is especially so in our entertainment oriented society where we must be entertained. How can the teacher compete?

The teacher has a daunting job in high school as a life guide who must be able make the young person aware that they have a mind first and then show how each, may reach inside and turn-on the motivational switch somehow.

But there are those of a different stripe, who are ready to learn. They have 'it'; the itch, the passion and the drive to aspire and acquire knowledge. They know life is like a giant screen upon which they can project their pure creativity and possibly become greater than who they are and take our world with them to a new place.

And just as there are students who have achieved this readiness, there are teachers who, by life experience or inherent qualities have touched the philosopher's stone and are gifted with 'IT' -wisdom, patience and the ability to recognize 'readiness-in-the rough' despite the rough.

Howard S.Billings has had many gifted teachers and probably still does. A high-school though, is sometime not the place for them and like fireflies or sparks on the night sky, their flame goes out all too soon in such an environment.

Sometimes systems do more harm than good; from head-count for budgetary reasons, new Provincial laws through the school board, to regimenting the mind at a time when it needs creative freedom.

A high-school is like a chariot being drawn by the horses of administration, teacher and adolescent; three distinctly different agendas pulling in different directions. The teacher's job is to somehow take hold of that harness and steer all to common direction -a higher level of learning, even when these forces work against him or her.

A teacher rarely receives recognition for a job well done. They do not receive production bonuses. Administration cannot be seen to side with teachers since this might tip the continual union/administration bargaining stance.

A good job is expected., through endless nights and days of preparation and marking, classes of those who would disrupt, distract and otherwise wreak havoc. There is also having to bear Provincial policy twists that would reform at the expense of the teacher's preparation hours and as a result lessen the quality of education.




At the end of the day, teachers are human, fraught with the same frailties, urges, temptations, guilt, ego, insecurities and life stages, potential for mistakes and learning as the rest of us. Yet do we hold them up to a higher standard -for after all, they are 'teachers' - they, who would mold our youth through their teaching and higher example. God help them should they show their emotion in a moment of stress or weakness.


Back in the seventies though, - there were some fine teachers - Mr.Mulahoo, Mr.Howes, Mr.Dawson, Mrs. Strike, Mr. Calder, Miss Laporte, Mr.Maynes, Mr.Freeman, Miss Green, Mr.Atkins, Mr.Goody Campbell, Mr.Duff, Mr.Guindi, Mr.Hall, Mr. Mahabir, Mr.Hutchings, Mr.Peterson, Mr.Meldrum, Mr.Rennie, Mr.Tomlinson, Mr.Herridge, Mr.Woods, Mr. Rossiter, Mr. Roberts, Mr.Royle, Mr.Simpkin, Sally Clark, Janice Turner, Mr.Hutchison,
Miss McCrudden, Mr.Munkittrik , Mr.Bush, Miss Westgate, Mr.Wells, Mr.Pellow, Father Victor Dionne, Mr.McKesey, Mr.Scott, John Elias, Mr.Falcon, Mme. Dubreuil, Mr.Ingram and many more.

They left their print on us in subtle and unique ways. They knew that we could think. They believed in us sometimes even when we could not. They gave of themselves.

What this reunion will be about, -beyond the nostalgic looking back, will be a recognition of your past efforts and a resounding Thank You.

What do we Get for $100?

-The cost of the school rental on Saturday May 19.
-The cost of the Moshure Auditorium on Saturday -which is a separate cost.
-The cost of the Ballroom and sound system of the Dorval Hilton.
-The Cost of the meal which includes a couple of glasses of wine.
-The cost of clean-up of the ballroom plus the service of being served -no volunteers.
-The cost of the music man who supplies - yes you guessed it - music.
-The cost of the Bar tenders at the cash bar.
-The service costs.

The Dorval Hilton have thrown in for Friday afternoon and evening a free Welcoming suite where the core organizing group can bring from the outside our own Beer, Wine, Tea, coffee, snacks etc. so we can greet all those coming in from out of town personally-those who will be staying over at the hotel or those who simply want to come and visit with out of towners and us .

The Dorval Hilton has also included the cost of Parking as a free item for anyone who has paid the $100 ticket price ($175 for spousal double). If we had used the Hilton downtown, it would have been $12.00 per day for parking or by the hour for less than the whole day usage.

Finally, the Dorval Hilton have reduced the prices of suites for the Victoria Day weekend- for us. Downtown would have been more than $200 per night. Our cost for a suite on each night (Friday-Saturday and Sunday -if you want to stick around) is $99.00 per night including free parking -if you are registered as a paid-up attendee. Naturally this allows us to stay over if we have had 'one too many'. Since many people will be staying over, I know there will be private suite visiting for those who want to link up afterwards. So the safety factor of not drinking and driving is a definite option.

We have eliminated various wish-list items from our budget to a "reasonable all-in" ticket cost.

One thing is very clear. We all want to enjoy the reunion, -including the organizers -so no one wants to spend the evening cleaning up or serving.

We all want to have a good time -and think we have arrived at a time in our lives where we can make a small investment in making that evening one to remember ...for all. As much as I like my memories of our brand new school from 1968-72, the school is a bit older now. Taking the tour will be nice on that weekend - and nostalgic, but eating dinner and having fun deserves to be in appropriate surroundings.

I and others have already put our own money and more important, time, into this thing voluntarily. We don't look to recouping our private cost of time and money other than to be allowed to enjoy the evening with you -rather than changing music tapes/cds, rather than serving beer and handing out drink tickets, rather than cleaning up after everyone is gone.

So what is in $100? -more than most people might think.

Fred Sailer, Bill Howes and Woodstock

Do you remember the traveling fair that used to stop by every year in the parking lot of the arena? There was a ride that would turn you upside down and all the change in your pockets would drop, but that was alright because girlfriends held on so tight!

It would be early fall, just as the leaves turned and the river got low with scummy muck. The dam and the island and the beach would lose all attraction since it stunk so. This small carnival provided an out and a diversion from the fact that we were back in the academic grind.

It was in grade nine for me when I began to sprout musical wings and play a blues harp to add to my attempts at singing. And it was one magic night when I wasn't hanging out at the YMCA Raja Mood with Diane Ranger trying to get past first base (- she was so cute and so was her older sister too!). I happened to have my harp in my pocket when I heard the chords of 'Season of The Witch' - and there he was, wiry haired with grimace smile and indian sandals that suited him just fine- doing 'his thing' with gravel voice but right on key. He had the magic! Mr. Fred Sailer.

Always friendly, instead of telling me to get lost (as I pulled out my harmonica) he just nodded -in his knowing, oh so cool way - not a word, just warmth and smile all telling me to just go right on ahead and bend some notes. Thank goodness the harp was in the right key. It was a lovely warm night, a good combination and good jam.

Fred was and -still is -one of those who, in my opinion -seeks the 'good', that which perhaps is hardest to pin down in life - the philosophic, and perhaps spiritual or transcendental element of our nature, with an eye to living it everyday. This quest is difficult since it's siren song will distract and blind you to time itself. But then, as I said - this is my opinion. He was always somewhere above me in the magical chase, grasping ladders of light aiming for the great beyond.

I am fortunate. He has chosen to stay in touch from decade to decade.

I recall meeting him one summer later, when he and Roddy McManus appeared just before the arrival of Scott Rogers at Bill Howse cottages on the very tip of the Gaspe peninsula. It was an artistic 'happening' with teachers Janice Turner, the late Mr. Eric Wesslow, his wife Tia and their son Steven. Romy Royko was there too.

I am reminded by Fred that this was the year of Woodstock. I do recall having the three way choice of entering into the musical Hair, or going to another music festival, this one in Woodstock County or going to Bill Howes place perched on Ships Head -the very final and pointy tip of the Gaspe cliff.

I had only just escaped the line-up auditions for the musical - HAIR at the Comdey Canadienne on Ste.Catherine Street.

I was deemed as acceptable for the auditions despite my 16 years of age since I had the longest hair in the place... Age of Aquarius indeed!

But, then I heard I would have to sing ...without my clothes.

By that time I had very limited exposure to audiences and was still coming to grips with the possibility of stage fright. The lack clothing issue did not help as far as my adolescent mind was concerned. If the cool water of swimming pools had a certain effect on my anatomy, God only knows what would happen in the case of mass scrutiny!

As for the festival in Woodstock, there had been so many already and with my limited budget, I figured it was a perfect time to take advantage of my family free pass with CN Rail and go out east with Romy Royko to visit Bill Howes. Who could have guessed that Woodstock would become such a historic event? It just goes to show you, we make decisions and have to live with them. This is one decision that perhaps I am fine with -one never knows what might have occurred at Woodstock -to me. Convesely, I do wonder where I might have gone had I had the gumption to stick out the process with the Musical Hair? Ah well -c'est la vie n'est pas?

I think I'll ask Fred if I could reprint part of his last e-mail to me. He brings up names of people from school I have not thought of in a long time. Lately he has been writing and his work is being heard on CBC Ontario.

Fred still has the magic and always will.

Notice to all

Notice to all:

Payment of the Reunion Ticket (via the web as opposed to sending me your cheques) is located at the http://www.hsbalumni.com. Click on the Reunion ’72 and friends sign up icon, in the lower right hand side of the website cover page.
You can see there those who are registered to attend.
You can register yourself to show your intent to attend
or you may simply pay for your attendance.

Remember payment at the door will not be accepted. NO EXCEPTIONS.
In order to keep the administration of this event simple for our volunteers, you must be paid up in advance.

Be advised that:

(phase 1) of the option to pay in two installments- one by end Feb and the balance by Monday April 15 2007 has now passed deadline.
(phase 2) of the second installment of $50 per single ticket or $75 balance for Spousal double ticket is now in play.

If you did not use the phase 1 installment option, then your only option is to pay the full ticket price by April 15, 2007 – that is $100 per single ticket and $175 for a spousal couple ticket.

How To Pay :
You may pay either on-line as per above,
or
Send a cheque- pay to the order of HS BILLINGS HIGH SCHOOL :
Then address your envelope and send to:
HSB Reunion and Friends
C/O Les McConnell,
103 Ashmore,
Chateauguay, Qc.
J6J 4B7.

Note:
The deadline of receipt the chq at my residence or pay on-line is APRIL 15 2007.
So please send by post or courier no later than Wednesday April 11.

By web payment you can pay even as late as the deadline of April 15 since it is instantly in our PAYPAL account and received. (Cool eh!)

So you have 42 days. The money is rolling in nicely and there are people from all years committed. This is looking like a very nicely attended function.

Keep in mind the intent of the event is to be able to speak to everyone you have not seen in ages.
So this will not be a big dance party, yet- there will be music and dancing, there will be a pay bar, but the focus is upon ‘Reunion’ and party –but not trying to compete with the music to be heard. You and your old friends are the focus.

Costs of the event include:
-rental of the school for Saturday walk-about,
-rental of the High School Auditorium for the 1:00 Saturday kick off of the event with John Saunders and Colleen Hillock,
-rental of the Dorval Hilton Ball Room,
-Dinner,
-the music service
And various other elements.

I look forward to welcoming you – yes YOU too!

Keep a look out for other things like your picture appearing or stories on the blog.
http://www.hsbreunion72andfriends.blogspot.com.

Les

Look Deep Into The PAST

Through The Looking Glass

If I can ask…
Do you have any favorite moments, friends or teachers from the high-school phase?

What was your favorite subject? What did you enjoy at that time?

For me it wasn’t the academics but rather the whole culture of the 60’s carrying over into the 70’s.
While there were the distractions of various inebriates for the times, there were also new thought formats and the small beginnings of spiritual and philosophical yearnings for me.

And of course there was the silliness of being a ‘youthful inexperienced male’, floundering about trying to figure out and come to terms with sexuality and what I was supposed to do with all that new information – and how to apply it. But while that aspect was clearly evident, it was not paramount.

In retrospect, I was like a tourist, constantly amazed by the macro/micro of what was going on beyond Chateauguay and Montreal and then in school as a melting pot. It was almost voyeuristic, in that I spent much time simply watching everyone – from the ‘glass hallway gang’, ‘orchard gang’, pines gang, Parkview gang, Colonia gang, Seigniory Park gang,Terrace gang, Heights gang-Canoe Club or Tennis Club, West End gang, Woodlands-Lery-Maple Grove and Beauharnois gangs to the Kahnawakero:no, to the teachers, -to each individual and how everyday, someone was either newly wearing make-up and looking more grown up, filling out, growing taller.

And the various behaviors displayed overtly or by default; those who were “out there” and those who chose to hang back. I had friends and acquaintances in most camps. It was all so much like Alice in Wonderland. But I just loved it. I became very much alive at that point –at least consciously aware of differences and yet sameness, in our struggle as a 'species' being.

If you have ever read Daemian by Hermann Hess, a story of a child becoming an adult- stepping over the line, out of the magic circle of family into the darker worlds- ‘on one’s own like a complete unknown’ -different and more subtle shades of gray; light melding inextricably with darkness. This was our turbulent birth via high-school into the outer older reality.

I have no blanks. I remember every “trip”physical, metaphysical or other - along with every memory of drinking too much or mixing wine with beer and ending up praying and trying to bargain with a porcelain god, "Please, I'll never do this again"... –if he/she/it would only make this retching stop or just get it the heck over with.

This is one aspect of 'the journey’ many of us passed through in youth and hopefully, came out the other side. We all know of some who, tragically, did not.

Now that I have emerged to who I am many years later, perhaps weathered by travel and life, I would love to see you and everyone – if only one last time. I want to look at you, greet, shake hands, to meet you as the higher class of being you have become. Back then, we were all so young and incomplete. These days, it matters not what you do to get by, or what you have or have not achieved - it is simply who you are that counts.

I am so curious to see us all- now and take a group picture after the dinner. I know that picture will become one of my most cherished possessions. Why? Because we all have a common past; a beginning place. On that REUNION evening we shall complete yet another part of our voyage- on this ever spinning rock. And I believe that meeting –that re-union will be most significant - a psychic metaphor of completion - within each and every one of us. Those who do not attend will always somewhere within, -wonder...what if... and only have the subjective convenient wallet sized crumpled memory of a past gone by, in the shadows fading.

I can always have days of vacation to travel, visit friends, see cities, lie out on a beach, go camping, write my book, be with my wife and/or children who I love dearly.

But we will not likely have another reunion with old friends, all in one place,- who, older or younger, in and out of school, (playing road hockey, playing tennis, going to the pool, playing guitar, thumbing rides through the USA and Canada)- experienced the 60’s and 70’s and teachers and bullies, Love gained and lost, heart break and elation and varying distractions - seemingly all together by common locale -High School .

Life goes by quickly and this REUNION EXPERIENCE will never happen again for us. Every year there are more who die off. Our demographic is entering that void where our own children are having children, causing us to become grand parents.

I want or NEED to visit my past- make the Haj, my pilgrimage -if just one last time.
Let us not let fear or simple laziness let this slip by.

You and all those who attend will cause the closest thing to TIME TRAVEL we ever will experience. I am so excited by seeing you and everyone else listed on the Alumni site. Do you realize how significant you are-(yes you!) to the rest of us? You were there –part of that dream – part of that fabric- and, yes, for some, it may have been a nightmare. It’s time to put some reality to it -exorcise it. Let us wake up for one unique moment, once more in time –older, wiser – wonderful people to behold! Come on down -one last time –then let us part with a completed circle of light -within.

Let the circle
be unbroken
by and by…

Pictured above - The Orchard Gang.

The D'Aguilar -Zizian Legends

I was bar-b-Q-ing in my ski outfit at sundown, contemplating the evening sky with a glass of ruby red wine.

Clear, crisp, frigid - a Chateuguay winter.

The banging- puck off the boards- reverberating over from the rink.
Flash back to 'pick-up' in the winter every night, - Barry Jones, Bob Jones, Graham and Brian Rennie, Frank Toth, Kit and Pierre Lacroix, Glen Finnerty, Danny Boyle and his dad and sometimes my dad too.

I envied Mr. Boyle. The puck slams into his leg, bounces off. He laughs, zooming by and scores on us. His leg was artificial. He remains a legend for those of us who witnessed this split second. He probably didn't know it, but Mr. Boyle became an example to many of us. "Just laugh and keep on going!"

I bring the burgers in to Jane, then go down to my office for a moment, a new message flashes on the computer. It is short and to the point; a complement from a very old friend. I smile and go back outside to close the grill, look up at the night sky, ah- but I'm transported once again to that special place.

...the aroma of Adidas and sweat, the tension charges the air in the gym - the bleachers- feet pounding the primal beat. The team is out and we roar.

There's Hopeton , Jimmy, Peter. Bobby, Jimmy Reid, Look at them! In their colours - Gold and Blue! They're ours ! What pride!

It's Wagar High versus HSB. We're behind by a point- "how could that be?"

The game is soon to end.

Zizian deakes out the flank - he could go all the way if he wants - but is ever the team player- he passes.The coach puts his hand to his brow.

Wagar steals the ball - looks like it's over now - but no!
Out of nowhere - Hopeton zips in front of the tall lanky centre, snapping the ball back to JimmyZ, who races up mid court -back to Hopeton. The clock is counting down the final minute of play.

Only one defender left ahead. Hopeton speeds up. What the heck is he thinking ? He'll run smack into the guy, - he slams the ball down -hard at floor between and through the defenceman's legs, springs up in flight and over the man -leap frog - total awe and hush -split second,-infinity- -roar-finishing off with a "swish" of the basket and a smile.
AAHHHH YEAHHH!

Did it happen this way? Did it happen at all? Did I dream it? Who knows- but both Jimmy Zizian and Hopeton D'Aguilar remain to this day - larger than life for many of us.

They have etched spots in our collective psyche that will remain along with the likes of Bobby Oliver, Edson Phipps, Dave Swan, Sheldon Seale, Sandy Traynor, Dave Maclean, Christine Russel, Bob Muir, J. Lahache, Trina Lamarre, Randy Phillips, Debbie Culham , Grant Wilson , Kenny Kane, Kerry Kane, Stewie Shearer, Bobbie Houston, Ference Somogyi and many others.

Looking up at the cold night, stars seem to peer back, curious, quiet, knowing -remembering.
It's all going by -so quickly.

Brass Monkey Weather

Brass Monkey Weather

If nothing else, this Reunion thought process is igniting my motivation to firm up, lose pounds and rid my chin of a few fat cells.

This morning, as I hit the snow covered wind swept streets for my ‘walk-run’, I had to ask myself –why now? I mean, I haven’t run in a few years since my knees began to ache. Perhaps when I stopped, I simply was bored and needed an excuse-‘whatever’.

So every second day, since last Saturday, I have been fast walking 4-6 telephone polls per street and soft running two, to an approximate total length of maybe 3-4 kilometers.

The thing about running and walking at ‘march-pace’, the body goes into a pleasant rhythm which causes one’s consciousness to focus upon various topics of concern. But after a certain point – perhaps 15 minutes into the pace, one’s consciousness goes time travelling.

The thudding sound of my boots on the hard snow street seems muted by the cold and I am aware of the February fragrance of frozen steel, but as my pace sets in, the warmth permeates my gloves and boots and gives rise to a memory of a similar morning- walking-walking-walking to school with Jimmy.

"This is brass monkey weather –there won’t be school today, man – there can’t be.” Jimmy’s breath hung suspended on the air. I looked out under the ridge of my frosted touque and spied the tears forming on his long eye lashes- becoming frozen and stuck.

“Maybe your right,” I muffled moist through my scarf. I could taste the wool that had become the traditional flavour of February since childhood.

A few weeks before, we had a massive amount of snow. In fact, the night it had come down, there was a knock on the door. There under the porch light, stood two Charlie Brown ragamuffins peering out of layers of winter outer clothing. Dave and Steve Poirier dressed as if prepared to climb a mountain.
“Come on out McConnell! - They’ve plowed the snow in Towers’ parking lot - the biggest snow mountains we’ve ever seen! Get your Mom’s old leather ski-boots on, bundle up and let’s go snow diving beneath the drifts!”

I’ll never forget that night.

But this day, with Jimmy was really extreme -freeze. Our steps squeaked and crunched on the brittle packed snow. If we even opened our mouths to speak, it felt like our breath was ripped out by the hand of a cruel winter .

We trooped on in our boots, gray flannel pants, ski jackets and long tassel touques, brief case school bag handles, frozen into our mitts. I was wearing my brown rubber over-boots (“galoshes”) with the slip buckle on the side, which I would ‘never be caught dead in’, but I didn’t need to fight with my mother on this occasion. It was brass monkey weather for certain “–definite witches’ tit.” said Jimmy, whose eyes could no longer be seen behind the fog of his large round glasses. The curls that emerged from beneath his hat had long since frosted.

The school was looming in the distance from our vantage point on Saint Francis Street as we were about to turn onto Maple.

It was ‘now or never’ time.
“So – ya figure there’s school today?” he ventured.
“I doubt it – I mean- maybe the busses couldn’t start” I posited.
“Let’s just go to my house – and make some corn fritters!” He said, “Besides, we can always go back to the school and slip in at lunch time.”
“Hmmm- Fair! This sounded good – fritters it is!” said I.
It was now official.
“You know how to make those things?” I asked.
“Just you wait.” He said, wiping new peering holes into the frost on his glasses. There was that Jimmy grin, suggesting all was possible in the magic of our existence.
But somehow that did not quite sound like a “yes” to me.

So instead of turning left at Maple past the small shopping centre, we turned right- heading up into the Heights. We continued on to the end of Maple and then over the tracks and up Robert Street (west).

We made our way down past St.Andrew’s United Church, Julius Richardson School and PieXII (referred to as Peedouze), and then along Salaberry North, past the train bridge and approached the ‘cement’ bridge that connected Chateauguay to the Woodlands/ Ville de Lery area.

As we passed under the ‘cement bridge’, we couldn’t help but notice the enticing hillside down from the top.



“Look at all that untouched perfect snow!”
It didn’t take any discussion. We bombed up there and made good use of our brief cases as mini toboggans. What speed! –what fun!

After a half hour of this though, our clothes were soaked and it was getting colder. So we kept on along Salaberry North to Jack Street where Jimmy lived.

Good to his word and Kitchen-wise beyond his young years, Jimmy took charge and into a sizzling vat of oil, he showed me how to drop dollops of batter mixed with corn nibblets.

What a feast, with Maple syrup– the aroma- hot coffee and corn fritters after a morning of fun in a February Quebec winter.

And no- we didn’t make it to school that day and I don’t remember being caught. Perhaps school was let out early due to cold? It had happened before and still does today. I know – my wife is a teacher. And teachers like those days too.

All of this, from a little exercise out in the cold this morning.
There was indeed a new found magic and purity of ‘fun’ in our youth during those high-school years in old Chateauguay- ‘there’s no place like home’.

Steve Roper and Yim

I asked Steve Roper to give me an update and a picture.
He was very kind in doing so.

..."Yim and I are in Victoria where I am Director of Marketing for Aviawest Resorts, a resort development company specializing in quarter-ownership properties on Vancouver Island. We have five locations with a sixth slated for development next year in Tofino and our first out of country resort potentially slated for Cabos.

I oversee all their web site, advertising and event planning as well as writing much of their communications materials and planning development.

I also own and operate www.oceansedge.com and www.stephenroper.com.

Ocean's Edge is a hobby that sprung out of the resort Yim and I built off the Caribbean coast of Belize some years back and I have plans of developing it into an adventure travel site for my retirement.

----------------------
I like visiting his Web Sites - a very unique and relaxing point of view. I encourage everyone to check this out .

Les

Your Point of View

Your Point of view
(by Terry MacHardy)

As a frequent visitor to this blog I would like to share the following story.
I recently attended a pleasant dinner on a rainy evening with some friends from Europe.
Provoked by an anecdote, two of them start to argue about the nature of human existence: is life a tragedy or a comedy? They end up with two contrasting versions of the same story: a comic tale and a more tragic version, both based on the same character. Although the two stories involve similar situations, characters and problems, they both have very different endings. Having heard both stories- which are taken from the film Melinda and Melinda-one of the diner’s Colter sums up what seems to be the main idea: everything is colored by our chosen point of view.

Happiness or failure depends on the attitude we adopt toward life. However, what is it that makes us see a glass as half full or half empty? Often we place too much value on reality and discard the illusions that would have helped us to see the glass as half full. At the end of the day what counts is our ability to interpret and remember our experiences with a positive slant. If we manage to do that regularly, trusting in our ability to control our own moods, we will enjoy all of the advantages that stem from a positive view of life. Being positive is a process, not a state, and that is within anyone’s reach-we just need to have a better command of our inner selves, and consequently take a more optimistic view of the world around us. We would do ourselves a great favor if we could always see the glass as half- full-yet we so easily regard it as half empty!

Some insist on emphasizing that negative side of our being, the negative side of our existence. Life is very short and it must not be wasted with pointless regrets. ( How curious: the saying and thinking that life is to short in itself, a manifestation of the dark side that keeps insisting on seeing the glass as half empty)Frequently we do not realize how many positive things happen to us purely because we are incapable of seeing them. The good, the positive, the nice, and the simply wonderful things-sometimes we just don’t even notice them.

Some people will say that, in this life, there is no such thing as a half-full or a half empty glass, but simply half a glass. Most of the time, the facts that we see are based on interpretation rather than reality-so we would be well advised to learn to distinguish our opinions from our observations.
How do you see it?

From my Family to all of yours,
Have a Merry Christmas and a Safe, Happy, Healthful New Year.

T. Mac

Stranger in a Cool L

Stranger in a Cool Land

Two weeks after the dance, my parents knew who Jimmy was.

For some reason they didn’t seem as thrilled. I mean, all I was asking for was $25.00 to see a show at the forum. So- I had never been to the Forum except as a child to see the circus!


OK, so what if it was James Brown? Big deal! They didn’t know who James Brown was anyway. So what if I was wearing a pair of Jimmy’s old pants. So what if I was only one of 20 white people in the audience- this was 1967-68 after all

Thank god my mom could handle a sewing machine. We had to get the pants just right. Tight- from the waist down –gone were the days of ‘Stovepipes’ - and then flair –big flair at the calf - with an insert of different coloured material.

I couldn’t be seen wearing sneakers. I needed something like Jimmy’s white shoes with the Italian weave on top of the foot.
“No – Beatle boots are gone Mom!”
“Out!”
“No T shirts or sweaters either!”
“ Button-down – bright red!”

Normally I would get up in the morning, wash, come back into my room, put the Beatles or Garry Lewis and The Playboys or The Animals on my portable record player and make my bed singing at the top of my lungs. I loved that record player. I had bought it with my own money from delivering The Montreal Star up in the new area of Seigniory Park near the Pines.

For the first time, my sisters heard something foreign coming from my bedroom.
“I Feel Good” – na-da-na-da dat (horns) “Like I knew that I would now!” …
Or “When a Man Loves a Woman..” and I was not singing. I was listening – getting my Soul lessons for the day.

After school I stopped coming right home and called more often to stay over at Jimmy’s place. Jimmy said his mom's name was Fran. I envisioned someone tall, dark and lanky like him. She was a teacher in Ormstown would be arriving at the house an hour after us.

They lived on Jack Street. (Who the heck was Jack? Dave Mclean would eventually tell me.) Seleda, Jimmy's older sister would retire to her room off the living room and diligently get her homework done. (She is now a Doctor in California and still looks good.)

I had never been further along the river road -Salaberry North, than Dupont Street to go up to St. Andrews for church. They lived way down in a small summer cottage near the water. It was cozy, warm and had a great big bay window. The beauty of that window was not what could be seen out of it,- but rather what was inwardly reflected when darkness fell outside; a Soulful Magic Mirror –reflecting in our minds- a stage, when Sly Stone, Percy Sledge, James Brown, Otis Redding, Sam and Dave, Wilson Picket and Aretha weaved their Soulful Spell into the household. Jimmy would get the records going- Boom Shakalaka! Boom Shakalaka! I Wanna Take You Higher ! When a Man Loves a Woman! Midnight Hour! Soul Man! Funky Broadway! Skinny Legs And All!

Seleda would throw down her pen in mock disgust –interrupted rudely from her studies- and stomp out of her room, hands on hips and yell “Jimmy!” –and on cue, he would grab her hand, pulling her into the magic circle reflected in the land of cool beyond the window …to The Midnight Hour and then Aretha's R>E>S>P-E-C-T… –his head moving back and forward, eyes slightly closed, teeth glittering through smiling lips, knees like pistons up and down –feet landing soft on a springy cloud – and she would be swept up into the dream –all to the beat, like Watusi Cool! Wow! They could move! Saleda was so beautiful when she danced and Jim – Jim was “THE MAN” –cooler than cool. Music loud, the beat, -the beat- oh my, I can still feel it,- the beat -was everything.

Cold winter air sliced through as the door swooshed open. "OH-OH".
I thought Mrs.Williams would be so upset with all her furniture shifted to the side and all hell breaking loose – All I saw at first was a coat flying into a chair, then this small wiry white woman prancing, hips swaying into the magic circle “Mom’s Home!”- as if she had never left it! For a single white lady, she sure could move black!

My mom and I danced when washing dishes to CFOX radio, but this was different –this was new! Where the hell had I been all my life. I had to absorb some of this culture of “cool”!

Reunion '72 and Friends Cost:
Basic information

May 18 is "Free day" of arrival - that is, Free to visit old friends, parents, family, Chateauguay, the Ville de Montreal. - 'The Alibi' is a great place across from McDonalds, or come see me and friends at the hotel reception suite at Dorval (Hilton) near the Airport and train station Diagram to follow. I will have wine, beer tea and coffee -perhaps some snacks etc. for those who come to the hotel .

Saturday May 19 School will be open at 10:00AM through 4:00PM .
1:00 PM meet up at the Auditorium for official kick off.
We can go in visit, check it all out.
Roam the halls, perhaps bump into some teachers we used to have, smell the polish on the floors etc. contact the ghosts that still roam about. But then by 4:00 PM, let us get the heck out and over to the Hilton Dorval!

Hilton Dorval May 19 Reception led off by John Saunders (Mr.ABC) and perhaps aided and abetted by Richard Rankin, Lynda Young Chapleau and myself and others/ Sit-Down dinner and evening activities.
$100 per single attendee Paid in advance.
If you bring your husband /wife/spousal partner $175 together.
PAID IN ADVANCE NOT AT THE DOOR -NO EXCEPTIONS.

An advance non refundable deposit of $50 Cdn per single ticket or $100 Cdn for a spousal double to confirm your place is required not later than Feb 28.

You may pay outright if you so choose. Final payment of the ticket balance is due no later than Monday April 15. received by me or the system for payment by credit/debit card on the Alumni site. Again, there is no refund for the down payment.
This payment does not include cost Hotel accomodations.

This week (Jan 8-12) we shall enable payment by credit card or debit card on the Alumni registry site. Keep watch for it.

Cheques may also be sent. Ensure the following information is on your checque along with your name -not just a signature. We'll need your phone number also.

(On the cheque:
H.S.Billings High School.
Then in the line at bottom of chq indicate Reunion '72 and Friends.
It is very important to write 'Reunion '72 and Friends' since there may be more than one reunion visiting the school at same time. We are " Reunion '72 And Friends".

Mail the chque to:
HSB Reunion and Friends
c/o L. McConnell
103 Ashmore,
Chateauguay,Qc.
J6J 4B7

I will check your name on the list and confirm reciept to you by e-mail.
I will then deliver the cheque to the school for our account there.

If you need a hotel room, link up with the Dorval Hilton and indicate you are with the H.S.Billings Reunion '72 and Friends (Les McConnell) and your room cost is $99 per night for Friday, Saturday and Sundy each night including parking for the three days at the hotel. So book it soon. More info to follow.

Happy New Year!

Here we have Joanne Hannon (Billings Grad) while below, her husband Greg Holden gets into the groove with friends and cousins who are also graduates of HSB.
To the left of Greg is Glenna McConnell. To right is Val McConnel and in black across from him is Gaye McConnell. And of course I took the picture, so I am right there -creating the window into this New Year's party. We McConnells can party!

I'm amazed... I was up til 3:00 a.m.! Well, not again until next year or the long weekend in May.

I thought we were going to Angelo Mancuso's? That's it Angelo! Next year it's your place -no excuses!