A COOL STORY ABOUT ELTON JOHN, THE PERILS OF IMPORTED PIZZA AND HOW TO GET UPGRADED TO FIRST CLASS
Vol. 1, No. 43
In this edition, your nostalgic correspondent recalls a heartwarming exchange between Elton John and a friend, asks if Prince was a horcrux, ponders the preponderance of the name “Lorne” in Ontario, and gasses on about the King.
This week: A 6-minute read
CAPTAIN FANTASTIC AND ROCKETMAN
From time to time in past newsletters, we’ve written about everyday folks and their brushes with famous people, albeit mostly hockey players: Wayne Gretzky, Pit Martin, Eddie Shack et al. This one is a little different and involves my longtime friend Gerald Rivard and his then-girlfriend Patti Hamel.
Gerald grew up in my hometown of Tilbury, Ontario, and we were friends for, well, forever, until his passing six years ago. Patti, who grew up in Regina, died two years before that. Yet back in the 1970s, they were the power couple within our group of friends. They went everywhere, did everything, and were always up for a laugh or a night out at the jazz club they favoured, Grossman’s Tavern on Spadina Avenue in Toronto.
At that time, Patti was also a staffer at MCA Records Canada in Toronto, whose stable of recording artists included The Who, Lynyrd Skynyrd and perhaps their biggest star, Elton John. She and Gerald, a.k.a. Riff, came to know a lot of these folks, not just in a professional sense but in a personal one as well. It was Elton who made a lasting impression on them and, evidently, they on him.
Ten or so years later, Gerald and Patti had long since moved to Vancouver and subsequently gone their separate ways. Gerald took a job with Canada Customs and had an accomplished and successful career there. In the early 1980s, he was doing a stint helping foreign visitors clear customs at the Vancouver airport, and one night boarded a plane that included a very famous passenger.
“Riff!” shouted Elton John as Gerald stepped aboard. “What are you doing here?”
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WE ALWAYS WONDERED
“I mentioned to our daughter Carson the other day that I saw Prince on TV and that he didn’t look any older. I also pointed out that wasn’t the case with Prince’s contemporary, Michael Jackson, who had been visibly aging in his last few years. Carson offered the opinion that perhaps they could not continue to share the same space in the rock pantheon; that for one to live, the other had to die. ‘You mean like Harry Potter and Voldemort?’ I asked. ‘That’s it,’ said Carson. ‘Prince is a horcrux!’”
Another post of mine on Facebook back in our California days. Turns out I’ve got a million of ‘em. Actually, the number is more like 35. I counted.
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HOUSE OF LORNES
“Terry, in your recent and most excellent column, you missed a very important Victoria fact,” writes vigilant reader Lorne Eedy of St. Marys, Ontario (‘Land of Hope and Gloria,’ May 18).
Lorne writes that growing up in St. Marys, he knew of two other Lornes in his class, and up to 12 different Lornes around town and was told, “Everyone was named after my grandfather Lorne.” Well, that may be a dubious claim. Still, he writes, “It seemed every community in Ontario has a Lorne Street, a Lorne Bridge or a Lorne Park.” (Ed. Note: or West Lorne.) Only a few years ago did Lorne discover the real back story behind his name.
“My grandfather was named after the Marquess de Lorne, Governor General of Canada from 1878 to 1883 and married to Queen Victoria’s fourth daughter, Louise Caroline Alberta, who was the first royal ever to live away from England. The Marquess and his wife loved Canada, travelling extensively, though he did say Toronto was ‘too dull for words.’ He told John A. Macdonald that ‘I should like to stay here all my days.’”
Alas, the Marquess and his wife did not. They returned to England, where he died in 1914.
Oh, and Lorne added one more personal note:
“Before the First World War, my grandfather Lorne had a choice of buying the weekly newspaper in Calgary or the one in St. Marys. My grandmother taught in Alberta before the war along with her life-long friend Nellie McClung. She returned to St. Marys for a teaching job where she met my grandfather. The rest, as they say, is history.”
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MORE ‘DEAR TERRY’ LETTERS
Re ‘Land of Hope and Gloria,’ May 18. That was an interesting story about Queen Victoria. With all that inter-related stuff going on, I’m surprised the Royals turned out OK. Or did they? As for hockey season, I’m ashamed to admit I don’t watch it. I left all that behind in the days when we had one TV and my Dad wouldn’t let us change the channel. We tried though as soon as he started snoring in his recliner, but of course he would wake up just hearing us change the channel. Nowadays, my husband John watches every game … with the volume too high. Sigh. Diane Prodenchuk, Chatham, Ontario
Re ‘Hot Properties,’ May 18. Terry, I’m generally all-in for the Canadian elbows and middle fingers up to T-rump and his cult (even as a U.S. resident for the last 12 years, and half of the six before that, and a dual citizen since 2018). But I do find humorous the many commercial efforts to exploit it. I listen to Oilers’ games on the Internet and I’m amused by the ads appealing to Alberta pride to sell trucks made in Ontario or Michigan, and the latest for all-Canadian pizza. As opposed to what, imported pizza? I guess it’s a shot at Little Caesars and Domino’s. My longtime fave though is Tims, proudly foreign-owned for years now. Murdoch Davis, Valparaiso, Indiana
If you want to drop me a note (and risk me publishing it here), just reply to this email or, if you prefer send it to mysundayreader@gmail.com.
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LAND OF HOPE AND GLORIA, PART DEUX
Well, the King and Queen arrive tomorrow for a brief stay. (Rumour has it they have to get back because they left the dog with the neighbours, whose cat has a rather crabby disposition.) While here, the King will deliver the Speech from the Throne and he and the missus will do some shopping at the Byward Market.
It is time for the legions of anti-monarchists among us to wail and gesticulate about how wrong it is for our sovereign to step on True North soil. They are, of course, welcome to their opinions. It’s what a constitutional monarchy is all about. But I will respond this way.
I believe the King to be the head of the state to which we bestow our allegiance, the bearer of the Maple Crown, Defender of the Faith we have in our land and who, as an individual, has a deep and abiding love for this country. Moreover, I dare say he has travelled more extensively in Canada than most Canadians, and has an intimate knowledge of its history, its geography and of all the nebulous things that knit us together.
The King may speak with a funny accent but, then, who in this country doesn’t?
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THIS WEEK IN THE BOOK CLUB
This week’s Episode 7, titled ‘Making stupid decisions is what I do,’ finds Stanley in a military hospital recovering from getting his ear shot off, and lamenting what’s in store when his unit is merged with the one he deserted the previous year. Harry finally befriends a companion who seems to get him, a dog he names Blackie. Back in Lethbridge, Annie wonders why Hettie hasn’t been responding to Stanley’s letters.
Please note: a subscription to our Book Club is just $5 a month and you can sign up anytime. Proceeds help finance future projects, such as audiobooks and extra press runs, as well as assist us in doing the hard research for new projects like the ones we’ve written about before.
Again, thanks for your consideration.
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AND FINALLY …
Another dear friend, Jaron Summers, writes delightful anecdotes about life in California and growing up in rural Alberta. Click here for the latest, “Confessions of a Seat Upgrade Ninja.”
Ta till next week. / T.
Please note: Artificial intelligence was not used in the preparation or writing of any part of this newsletter.