I’m not usually one to post “open letters”– I would prefer to deliver it directly to the person for whom it is intended, but as ET or MH don’t appear to have a readily accessible email address, I figure I have a blog, so I may as well use it.
I long ago gave up watching Entertainment Tonight on a regular basis, when it devolved from a light escapist guilty pleasure to a muck-raking tabloid show, sinking even lower than the National Enquirer. However, the other night when I was taking a break from the routine and decided to spend a rare amount of time flipping TV channels, I landed on ET just as Mary Hart was exclaiming in disingenuous, sonorous, yet strangely euphoric tones, that they would be broadcasting the video of “Heath Ledger at a Hollywood Drug Party!” the following evening. I have only one question – just what have they got on you, Mary Hart, that you can actually deliver this crap with a clear conscience?
Okay, so I have other questions too: How, as a human being, can you continue to make a living off the grief and misfortune of others? When did you decide to lower yourself to this level? When did you morph from the puff piece who insured her legs with Lloyds of London to the lowest of all common denominators? Have you not made your mark in the industry? Do you not have enough money? If I were in your place, this story would have been my breaking point – this would have been the one where my own personal beliefs and integrity would have won out, and I would have walked off the set, refusing to be involved in this “story”. Because this is not “journalism” in any sense of the word – and any attempts to disguise it as such by having a “doctor to the stars” as your go-to guy to justify showing this tape in an attempt to “save someone else” are nothing short of reprehensible. This is sensationalist, voyeuristic, smutty gossip at its very worst, attempting to capitalize on the unfortunate and untimely death – yes, DEATH, of a HUMAN BEING. A flawed human being perhaps, but, aren’t we all in one way or another? There but for the grace of God…..
Thankfully, the vast majority of us live our lives in anonymity, and as such, are exempt from these increasingly fashionable, very public and (occasionally) posthumous character-lynchings. What kind of a world would it be when, if at our own funerals, eulogies would consist of a dirty-laundry list of all the questionable things we’ve done in our lives? The bad decisions we’ve made, the less than desirable people we’ve slept with, and the illegal drugs we’ve indulged in? It would be unthinkable if this were to happen. And yet, somehow, because it’s accepted that people in the public eye more or less sell their souls to the devil in exchange for fame and fortune, their right to those most basic of human decencies, DIGNITY & RESPECT, are also stripped from them, even (or especially!) in death. (Granted, there are “celebrities” out there today who invite this lack of respect with their behaviour away from the screen, stage, or recording studio. Heath Ledger, by all accounts, was not one of them).
Yes, he was an actor, who by profession, chose to live his life in the public eye. But he was also a man, who, whether or not he was the biggest addict walking the face of the earth today, was still someone’s son, father, brother, lover, friend -- admired for his work by his peers and the general public alike. To sully what remains of his memory now is pointless, heinous, disgusting and shameful.
I realize that ET, along with the Insider, have subsequently and thankfully reneged on their promise to show this “enlightening” video – but only after a backlash from the public relations firms who drive your increasingly sordid brand of “journalism”. Would that you had the integrity and strength of character to have done so before this action became a story unto itself.
I visited a friend of mine overnight last night at her lovely new home in Ontario's Muskoka region. As it was just a short stay after dropping one of my daughters off at summer camp, I departed early this morning for home along scenic Highway 35, which took me into the lovely hamlets of Dorset and Baysville, Ontario. Both these towns are major cottage country destinations here in Ontario, and the shores of the Lake of Bays area where they are located are dotted with countless summer vacation homes.
Although the weather this morning was fair, hot and sunny, there was still no mistaking the sense that these are the days of summer's swan song -- while the prolificly treed region was still mainly green, I still saw many trees that had (rather prematurely!) started to turn a golden hue, and as in the case of the small maple tree pictured above, were a brilliant shade of crimson.
While the fall is undoubtedly a beautiful time of year -- in fact, probably my favourite of all the seasons, I couldn't help but be somewhat overcome with a bittersweet and poignant feeling reminding me that to everything there is season...
Or, maybe I'm just overly sensitive these days due to the fact that my eldest daughter is leaving the nest to attend university in a week's time....
Whatever's in the air, there's no disputing the fact that the only constant in life is change....
It was the first car I got all by myself. Oh, I've had other cars before, but they were usually "arranged" for me through family members who could get a great deal on an old junker, used mainly for the purposes of getting my kids to and from school when they were younger; and around the neighbourhood to buy groceries, etc. This car was different, because it was shiny, straight-off-the-dealer's-lot, brand spanking new, complete with the requisite new car smell -- and it gave me freedom. Freedom to get in the car and go wherever the spirit moved me, without having to worry that a door would fall off (really!), or that I'd drive through a puddle and the engine would die, or that I'd embarrass my kids by dropping them off at school in a car with a squealing loose fan belt that could be heard the entire neighbourhood over. Yep, finally, this was a car I could be proud of, for so many reasons.
It also gave me the freedom to travel a little further outside my comfort zone -- my little Accent has taken me on a lovely springtime solo road trip to visit a dear friend in Philadelphia; carried me back and forth more times than I can count to another dear friend in London, Ontario; and allowed me the opportunity to deliver my youngest daughter to summer camp in Muskoka in air conditioned comfort. It's the first car I watched my oldest daughter get behind the wheel in and drive off by herself for the first time, freshly minted driver's license in hand. And despite its modest size, it has moved me (and more boxes from Ikea that I care to count!) in and out of two new homes with remarkable efficiency for its size.
I hadn't planned on replacing it so soon -- but on a purely impulsive whim, my daughter and I stopped into the dealership where I got it almost five years ago to check out the new models the other day -- and by the time we had left, I'd upgraded to a shiny, brand new, 2007 version of the same car. (I would recommend the Accent to anyone - it's really been a gem of an automobile). I would have had to replace the tires before the snow flew anyway -- and I must admit, the thought of upgrading to such creature comforts as heated seats and cruise control appealed greatly to me. It just seemed to be one of those "meant-to-be" moments, and really, isn't one of life's little pleasures being handed the keys to a brand new car, and driving away in it?
Still - it is with some wistfulness that I say goodbye today to Accent #1 (I never did give it a name). Only time will tell the stories that Accent #2 has waiting to be written....
I spent this past weekend at my mother's house in a rural area of Ontario. She and her husband recently made a charming addition to their already charming back yard -- a log cabin shed. While they're still not really sure what purpose the shed will serve (Potting shed? Outdoor bar? Craft/woodworking cabin? Alone time hideaway? All of the above?) they're having a lot of fun decorating it, and one of the first things my mother did was adorn its windows with windowboxes overflowing with nasturtiums and pansies.
Besides being ridiculously easy to grow and maintain (even in the dry summer we've had here in Ontario) both flowers have always been, to me anyway, "happy flowers" -- their cheerful "faces" always reaching eagerly towards you, as if to say, "pick me, pick me!" Or in the case of these versatile plants, perhaps, "eat me, eat me!" -- because not only do they make a most attractive garnish on a summer salad, but they're 100% edible too.
That said, while I have sampled them in the past, I'd have to say I prefer to gaze upon them rather to eat them -- after all, doesn't it seem rather barbaric to ingest something that goes out of its way to bring a smile to your face? :)
Last week my three daughters and I returned home from a long overdue return trip to the land of my birth, Nova Scotia. While I was born in Halifax, and my family moved to Toronto when I was 6 years old (43 years ago, but who’s counting) every subsequent summer until the time I was about 17 was spent in mother’s home town of Sydney, Nova Scotia (located on Cape Breton Island). This is the place where my most cherished childhood memories lie – and despite my being a non-resident for over four decades, this is the place my heart calls home.
As soon as we cross the Canso Causeway (a landfill bridge that connects Cape Breton to mainland Nova Scotia), I’m overwhelmed with a flood of memories ranging from moments spent gazing out my grandmother’s kitchen window, as the summer sun illuminated the row of coloured glass tumblers that she displayed on the window ledge (the last two remaining of which now reside in my kitchen cabinet – no window ledges in my house!); swimming in the salty waters of the Bras d’Or lakes at my aunt’s “bungalow” at Ben Eoin with my dear cousins; shopping on Sydney’s Charlotte St. with my mother, and marveling at how EVERYONE we bumped into knew her, even after her having left for the big city years before; and perhaps my most treasured memory of all – our annual trip around the Cabot Trail – in my humble opinion, the most beautiful place on earth.
Our first destination would always be the immensely charming town of Baddeck – a town that Alexander Graham Bell himself fell in love with many years before I first laid eyes on it – and where the telephone was born. (Not sure if he should be lauded or pilloried for that!) ;-) It is said the rolling Cape Breton Highlands reminded him of his own birthplace in Scotland – which is why the Bell family summer home - Beinn Bhreagh, where much of his scientific work was done, still sits high on a hill overlooking the shimmering waters of Baddeck Bay. His descendants continue to own and maintain the property to this day. The Bell Museum, also located in Baddeck (and always a favourite childhood visit for me) is situated on an impeccably groomed site which also overlooks Baddeck Bay, and its picturesque lighthouse (shown in the photo above). While Sydney is Cape Breton’s main city, Baddeck would be its premier tourist destination – especially during the summer months, when its streets and quaint and plentiful inns, restaurants, and shops are populated with tourists enjoying its many charms. Baddeck is also and ideal starting place to begin a tour around the Cabot Trail, due to its being situated in a location central to the two main access roads to the trail -- depending on whether or not you want to travel it in a clockwise or counterclockwise direction. (I would recommend clockwise for optimum scenic views).
After our stop in Baddeck, it was time to hit the trail…..literally. There are numerous travel websites where you can learn all the technical details of the Cabot Trail – (time and distance to travel, elevation, history, etc.), but here, I’d only like to speak of its esthetic allure – although I’ve travelled it many times, and have also visited some of the world’s most beautiful and renowned destinations, (including Calfornia’s magnificent Pacific Coast Highway, to which the Cabot Trail is often compared) – I never fail to be moved (almost!) beyond words by sheer scope, scale, and beauty. To stand high atop one of its lush, emerald, tree covered mountains and gaze out upon the blue waters of the Atlantic, held cupped in the deep crevices of its bottomless valleys, is to truly know heaven on earth.
My photographs, however, even with the best of intent, fail to do it justice. Truly, this is a place that one must experience with ALL their senses to visually comprehend the vastness of scale, to feel the ocean whipped winds upon your face, to smell the scent of the evergreens infusing the pristine mountain air, to hear the cry of a bald eagle encircling its highland home, and the sound of the Atlantic surf relentlessly crashing upon the rocks of a remote and lonely shoreline.
Which is yet another part of the appeal to me – despite the treasures of nature to be found here, this land has remained largely untouched by the hand of “progress”. Part of the reason for that would be that it is protected within the boundaries of the Cape Breton Highlands National Park, and part may lie in the fact that a lot of this land is simply uninhabitable, and those parts that are inhabitable surely must endure the harshest the elements have to offer. Still, it’s refreshing to note that in all the years I’ve been visiting, in the more accessible areas along the trail, nary a fast food chain, garish tourist attraction, or large chain hotel exists – and the accommodations, gift shops and eating emporiums that do dot the route remain, for the most part, small, family owned, and authentic to the region. This is, after all, the world capital of hand hooked mats (at Flora’s in Cheticamp) – and where else on earth would you find “Joe’s Scarecrow Museum”?? It’s also a marvellous place to experience getting up close and personal with a whale…..although I’ve never taken the trip myself, many whale watching tours depart from villages along the serpentine shores of the Cabot Trail.
Returning here this summer was especially poignant for me as it was a family reunion of sorts, (to mark the occasion of my aunt’s 80th birthday) and not only did I reconnect with the cousins with whom I share all those childhood memories for the first time since I was a teenager, but I was also accompanied by my three daughters. The last time we visited Cape Breton, my children were very young – and as is the case with young children, its physical beauty and my emotional ties here were lost on them. This time however, now young women, they understood not only the significance of this return “home” for me, but I do believe the maritime blood that flows through their own veins was stirred up!! (Their father’s side of the family also has Nova Scotian family roots). I was touched when my usually stoic children, who enjoy having a good natured laugh at my expense when my eyes well with happy emotion, were also undeniably moved by their visit here……
Last but not least, my dear departed grandmother has not been with us for close to 20 years now, but her spirit will live on with me forever – especially when I’m in the home of my heart, Cape Breton Island.
I’ve posted many images on flickr of our entire trip to Nova Scotia – and by clicking on any of the above photos, you should ultimately be led to my photostream, and several sets detailing our visits to Halifax, Peggy’s Cove, Louisbourg, and more of the Cabot Trail (including the above mentioned “Joe’s Scarecrow Museum).
To anyone who may stumble upon this blog (and actually take the time to read it), I hope in some small way it may inspire you to visit Cape Breton, and experience it for yourself. While I have roots here run deep, by no means are familial ties required to fall in love with it!! Yes, I’m biased, but I maintain it should be high atop one of those “100 places to see before you die” lists that seem prevalent these days. And if you are already familiar with of what I speak, please feel free to share your own impressions here! I’d love to hear from others who know first hand the many pleasures of my maritime island paradise.
Last Sunday evening, The Police returned to Toronto after a 25 year absence. I was a huge fan back in the day, and have remained a very avid Sting fan, following his solo career very closely. Despite the fact that he reiterated time and time again that a reunion with Andy and Stewart would never happen, I always held out hope that would not be the case. And late last year, I was pleasantly surprised when their reunion tour was announced. So I dug deep into my pockets, and scored myself a ticket to their Sunday night show here in T.O.....and what a show it was.
These guys came to play....no phoned in show for them! I'm happy to say the once legendary "feud" between the three of them most certainly appears to be a thing of the past - and they look to be having the time of their lives together on stage - really very emotional to watch.
I have a newfound respect for both Stewart and Andy too -- during their heyday in the late '70's, early '80's Sting (perhaps rightfully so due his prolific songwriting skills) played his frontman role to the hilt - but I now appreciate the fact that without Stewart and Andy's contributions, perhaps Sting's melodies would never have been interpreted in the way we know the songs today, and the group may not have been as compelling a listen. This fact was even further driven home to me after reading Andy's fabulous book "One Train Later" - check it out if you're interested in reading a first rate written account of what it was like to not only be one third of one of the biggest acts in rock at one point in time, but also a fascinating history of pop music in general, especially in early '60's England. He's really quite a compelling story teller!
At any rate....despite the hefty price tag attached to these shows, I'd highly recommend catching one if they haven't yet passed through your city.... it's all at once nostalgic, poignant, energetic, and above all, highly entertaining. Sting and the boys deliver, and then some!
Okay, so here's a bit more about me. I'm a big music fan, and have done some travelling (another love) in order not only to see and hear some of my favourite artists, but to snap photos of them (I also love digital photography). So I get them all covered at once. This is a photo I took of the magnificent Red Rocks Amphitheatre in Morrison Colorado this past June, when I travelled there to see John Mayer in concert. If you ever have a chance to see a concert at this venue, don't pass it up - it's truly one of the most amazing natural wonders this world has to offer (and has fantastic acoustics too!)
Just trying out this Vox thing for the first time to get a feel for how it works, and along with it, a photo I took last weekend while hiking in rural Ontario (Canada). We'll see how it goes. :)
Okay, so far so good (just took a look, now editing). So I'll start using Vox's prompts - I came across Vox through my use of flickr (I noticed a link to it on someone's else's profile; I don't remember who at the moment). I checked into it, and like the look of it...I've tried other blogs (blogger), and have a facebook and myspace, but rarely use them. I’m not sure if I’ll be any more prolific here – while I like the idea of a place to share your thoughts, photos etc., and to view those of others, it’s really rather time consuming. Conversely, there’s always the danger that it can become somewhat addictive, and cut into time you could (or should) be spending doing something more productive. It can be difficult at times keeping the proper balance (well, MOST of the time).
Anyway……like I say, we’ll see how it goes. :)
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beesquare said:
Glad you enjoyed - and I hope you do find the time to get to CB soon, too! You're so... read more
on Home of My Heart -
Art and Tea said:
Terrific travelogue on Nova Scotia!!! I love it here. It has been a few years since I have visited Cape... read more
on Home of My Heart -
Karridale68 said:
Hello - I love seeing live music in outdoor venues - especially when the day transitions to night and you... read more
on Red Rocks Amphitheatre
Thankyou for sharing the home of your heart. This is certainly another location I will add to my 'must see'... read more
on Home of My Heart