I've got a big Friday night with the family planned. Will's band is playing at Riverjam and Sarah, Dad, Erin and I will convene with the MacAfees to check it out. Will is also giving away an award in his mother's memory. The Diane London award goes to a female musician for outstanding achievements or contributions to the local music scene.
It should be a good night and hopefully the Downtown Blues Band will play this old favourite of mine:
The Beijing Olympics are a few short weeks away and I think it is high time we got to know one of our Olympic athletes a little bit better.
The woman at the front (right side in the picture) is my cousin Jane Rumball. She is an Olympian. I can't tell you how much fun it is to say that. I can't tell you how much more fun it is knowing that I will get to watch her (on tv) go for Olympic gold in Beijing in August. She, and her 8 crewmates qualified last month in Poland. She is one of only a handful of New Brunwickers representing Canada at this Olympiad. We are all extremely proud of her.
At the same time it is a little tough to swallow. In my family I will never be the best student, the best musician, the best artist, the best actor, or the best interior decorator. I thought I might have had a chance to be considered the best athlete in this generation of the family but Jane gone done and blew that all to hell. I can't even begin to compete with an Olympian. To add salt to the wound she's aiming at becoming a better blogger than me as well....now its personal! I kid of course...I thought it was cool as hell when my aunt Margie sent me the link to Jane appearing on CTV News - Check it Out!
She's a better interview than me too. I can't wait for August to come; I'm having a party for Jane's races. I'll keep you posted.
These historic tykes are a group of child immagrants landing in Saint John. They are called Home Children and between 1870 and 1930 almost 100 000 'orphaned, abandoned, or pauper children' from overcrowded cities in industrial Britain were sent to the vast spaces of Canada. In theory the children were being sent by churches and philanthropists in the hope that they would have a better life in our pastoral Dominion. In reality they were solving problems on both sides of the Atlantic; overcrowding in Britain and a labour shortage in Canada. Many were treated to the life the brochure offered while many others were treated as slaves. Either way, most stayed and became Canadians to the point that estimates surmise that 10% of present day Canadians have home children in their family trees.
I bring this up today because I am among that 10%. My great-grandfather Herbert Dawkins arrived in Halifax on July 1, 1905. In my family tree that is the first time my blood set foot on Canadian soil. Canada Day, 1905.
Herbert ended up on a farm in Stanley and I know nothing of his time there. I hope he was one of the lucky ones. What I do know is that he left Stanley for Fredericton, got married and had children, including my grandfather. My Grandfather, in turn, grew up, prospered, and raised a family that would make Herbert very proud. So from humble beginnings....I guess that is the Canadian Dream.
My cousin Jane (2nd girl from left, first girl facing the camera) bought her ticket to her Olympic dream today with a win at an Olympic qualifier in Poland. She and her 8 teamates in the Canadian Women's 8 boat beat The Netherlands to the line and therefore qualified for Beijing along with them.
This is a huge step on the road to fulfilling her dream. Now that they've secured their spot they can focus on training for this even specifically in the hopes their performance can complete dream sequence. In the meantime I hope she keeps us posted on her diary at the Globe - www.theglobeandmail.com/blogs/WbBeijing.
I'm not sure how you can measure how big of a CONGRATULATIONS I want to extend to her but here's hoping that there will be an even bigger on in store for August.
We played a game in Nova Scotia yesteday (and won!) and after the game I ran into an former Fredericton Exile named Ernie O'Hara. He congratulated me on a good game and relayed the fact that he played for the Exiles and NB in the late 70's. I told him he probably knew my father, Peter Pacey, at which point he threatened to punch me before smiling, shaking his head, and saying "You're father was a mother-fucker to play against!"
I've heard this from countless people over the years and as we get older and the days of him rumbling downhill on the pitch get farther away I sometimes forget that, as much as we share in our love of and success in the game, we are fairly different players. With the Calithumpians he became the Bull of the Woods but in a rugby jersey he was the bull in a china shop. They all said that trying to tackle him was like trying to tackle a tree. And so as not to pile the praise too high it should be noted that, while my strength may be in my passing, he was said not to know what that word meant. This led the introduction of a new position known as 'Outside Pacey' where players learned the finer points of playing the game without the ball.
Interestingly for all the people that have extended him this praise their number is dwarfed by the number of former students of his that have approached me to let me know that he was the best teacher/prof they ever had. I know that its the second group that will mean more to him but I also know that there is nothing quite like the feeling having someone bounce off you on your way to the try line, hence his reluctance to pass the ball.
These days he still makes his presence felt at the club but now its with his imposing voice and not his legs. I tend to think I play better when he is there so in that way he is still affecting the game.
Friday night was the Canadian Cancer Society's annual Relay for Life. Although I have stepped back from previous volunteer roles with the Relay Erin and I still went to the raceway to take part in the event in some way. This year's event had the theme Celebrate, Remember, Fight Back. The organizers did a very good job integrating all three into the evening.
The night started off with the Survivor Lap where cancer survivor's take a ceremonial victory lap around the track. After that the crowd was entertained by some live music including the Downtown Blues Band, who, in a warm touch, continue to hang Diane's boa from a mic stand at this (and all) show(s). At sundown it was time to remember with the Luminary ceremony. A pipe band walked the infield and families and friends lit candles in bags with written messages on them. I had met up with Nancy MacAfee and she showed me where her memorial to Diane was and we lit the candle and she said a prayer (or several). Its sad to see the sheer number of memorials laid out; it really shows how widespread this shitty disease is. At the same time there is optimism because of efforts like this night.
The third part of this year's mantra was Fight Back and, to that end, this was an unqualified success. The organizing committee, including my good friend and co-worker Tera Gillen, work tirelessly to put on a first class event that honours survivors, remembers lost loved ones, and, equally importantly, raises a ton of cash to help cancer research. This year they are expected to tally over $100k, which is a record for the Fredericton relay. Huge kudos to all of you for making a difference.
After the Relay we took Nancy home and had a mini-celebration for her and her winning battle. Thanks for being you Nance; Diane must be comforted knowing you're watching over the Pacey boys!
I was remiss in putting a team together this year but will point you in the direction of the Cancer Society if this post stirs your wallet. Click here to donate.
I got a call yesterday from a strange area code so naturally I screened the call. The same number called back immediately so I figured if they wanted me that bad it can't be good news and they would leave a message. Solid logic, I know. After the second call I checked the messages and didn't recognize the voice but figured out who it was when he ended the first sentence with "mate". The next sentence was "It's your uncle Dan".
Dan was coming through town from Australia on his way to Carleton (Potato) County via Montreal and New Jersey. He was pretty worn out from the travelling but wanted to get together for a visit. We met up and caught up and it was great. There was a good portion of my childhood that Dan was my idol. Mostly because he looked kind of like the Fonz, taught me my first swear word, and could always come through with the exclamation point at the end of a "Pull my Finger" joke. But also because he made everyone around him laugh with off-color jokes that my mother couldn't help but laugh at and that his mother would gently scold him for - "Dan!". As I grew up I figured out that he got that directly from his father. We shared a few more laughs and then Dad showed up for a surprise visit:As you can see we had a few more laughs. I hadn't seen Dan in 4 years and Dad hadn't seen him in 10 so there was a lot of catching up to do. He is living well in Australia with his beautiful wife Helen and their son Shannon, whose sports fixation at age 9 sounds exactly the same as mine at the age. Of course the sports are all different, cricket and Aussie Rule Football, but that's good because I'm thinking I might make a trip down there so he can teach me how to kick. I think we kept him up longer then he wanted to be but it was well worth it. Great to see you Dan!
Si
PS - Dan actually taught me that first swear word in the context of a joke (which seemed to make it ok because everyone laughed at it) and thanks to the glory of the internet here it is: A rabbit, a lizard, and a turtle decided to go into business. They would manufacture and distribute fertilizer. The rabbit was in charge of production, the turtle in charge of delivery, and the lizard in charge of sales.
Business went well, and in no time they were living in the lap of luxury. However, while the rabbit continued his hard work in the production plant, the lizard and the turtle spent most of their time loafing around their estate.
One day the rabbit was delivering the latest batch of fertilizer to the estate, prior to distribution, and he was met at the gate by a new butler! "I want to see the lizard," said the rabbit. "Mr. li-ZARD is out in the yard," replied the butler. "Then let me see the turtle," said the rabbit. "Mr. tur-TELL is down by the well," said the butler. "Well," said the rabbit, "you tell Mr. li-ZARD, who is out in the yard, and Mr. tur-TELL, who is down by the well, that Mr. rab-BIT is here with the shit." I've been trying to remember that joke for years...
The word you are looking for is tryptophan and here is the straight dope on what it does - check it.
After working (like a sucker) yesterday we booked of yesterday to Aunt Margie's for a traditional gathering and feast to celebrate thanksgiving. Man, do you I ever love a full spread. There is nothing quite like it and I've never been more happy to learn something as I was to learn that cranberry sauce really does go with turkey. Who knew?
In other news, today is John Lennon's birthday. In honour of this, everyone should listen to a little of his work...start here: Happy Thanksgiving!
