It is late afternoon on New Year’s Eve, also known in other parts of the
world as Old Year’s Day, Veille du Jour de l’An or St. Sylvester’s Day, the
last day of the year, December 31st.
I imagine there are a respectable number of people about to begin the
celebration of New Year’s Eve. I am
guessing there are men and women preparing their costume for the evening
particularly if they’re planning to attend a formal occasion though they may
only be donning some (possibly new) comfortable clothing for a more casual
rally. Very likely there are people who
are in the frenetic throes of final preparation of food and drink for
themselves and guests. Certain couples will
have made plans for a private and perhaps elegant celebration whether on home
turf or in a romantic resort. Perhaps
even complete families have something special in mind to mark the occasion.
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
Monday, December 30, 2013
Doing Nothing
While it would be a sizeable stretch to label me a man of action, if one
ignores the James Bond theme I easily qualify as someone who prefers activity
to serenity. Nonetheless there are times
when sitting still and doing nothing can be really quite pleasant. For example, after a long and exhausting bike
ride I especially enjoy reclining in the sun on a chaise longue; or, if the
weather is cooler, taking a nap. Reading
a book almost anytime is always profitable (though my preference is either at
the end of the day in a comfortable chair with a martini or on a beach where I may
be moderately distracted by the Ocean and sea grasses). A steam bath or sauna, particularly if
punctuated by a revitalizing swim, is equally agreeable. I won’t object to watching
a stimulating movie or attending a theatrical performance. I have even been persuaded without regret to
take a guided tour when visiting a new place.
Saturday, December 28, 2013
Tourists
Tourists as a class of people are
subject to much disdain. The vilification is popular not only in cartoons
(where the sloppy casual appearance of over-weight and brightly dressed
tourists are regularly ridiculed). Tourists generally enjoy a poor reputation
for public performance. The real proof
of the snootiness is the mere fact that you have probably never entertained a
tourist in your home. Tourists inspire a degree of derision which invites
aloofness. Even when the shopkeeper or innkeeper makes his or her living from
the business, entertainment or accommodation of tourists it is a thinly veiled
secret that they disparage the sight of tourists. Small wonder therefore that as a tourist on
foreign soil you are liable to face a predictable lonely existence and there is
no amount of expenditure which will garner the same hominess of friendly
acquaintance as in the place where you live.
At best a tourist can count on token deferral and polite condescension.
Picture our delight therefore at having spent a thoroughly agreeable
afternoon today on Hilton Head Island with two people whom we hardly know, two
fellow tourists. In spite of being thousands
of kilometers from home we four enacted an afternoon ceremony worthy of the
most refined social foregathering. Initially
it may be tempting to compensate the exuberance of the congregation by
dismissing it as a chance encounter of people who hail from the same provenance. Certainly it was pure coincidence that we
first met a year ago on the beach near Coligny Plaza, they walking their
handsome French bulldog Max, I recovering still from the loss of my own
Frenchie. But nothing came of that
encounter until by pure chance the same collision of people and dog reoccurred exactly
one year later! Well! I mean to say! If ever there were messages in the stars!
As a result it was but a small revelation to receive a generous
invitation from our new acquaintances to rally with them for a drink at their
place in Sea Pines at 1:00 p.m. today, Saturday afternoon. Our hosts, J and A, are a married couple – at
least that is what we presumed; and he runs a sole proprietorship. Other than that we knew nothing of them and
likely they knew even less about us until today. Yet the short-lived alliance had all the
hallmarks of workability and at the very least respectability and promise. Accordingly it was without indecision that we
gleefully accepted our unique invitation and began looking forward to it,
wondering from time to time what was to come of it.
This afternoon as we drove into the laneway which led to our hosts’
habitation, we encountered the Laird of the Manor dutifully walking his
faithful French bulldog Max. The sight
of them instantly raised our spirits as we are perpetually in need of a dog fix.
I parked the car in the drive and was immediately greeted at the door by Her
Ladyship, an eye-catching Nordic looking woman.
We all retired into the home and went about a summary tour of the place,
exchanging comparative observations about the various rental opportunities on
the Island. Naturally Max monopolized a
considerable amount of our time (a predisposition which by the way continued
unabated during the subsequent three hours of our gathering).
Friday, December 27, 2013
Routine Paradise
As inclined as one may be to characterize a holiday as “getting away
from it all”, it would appear that deep-seated convention trumps novelty. Possibly
because I lack innovation (or worse, inspiration) it apparently requires no
more than seventy-two hours for me to establish a patent and less than
glamorous routine in any environment. The only difference this morning, for
example, was that with the benefit of two days’ reiteration the agenda was
accelerated. As usual we busied
ourselves early this morning (between 2:30 am – 4:30 am) with our
computers. It is pointless to toss in
one’s bed if the mind is revolving. Better
to get up and distract one’s self with industry. Given the holiday nature of
these days and not being preoccupied with my law office I find I am spending
time on web sites which normally would exhaust me either by their uselessness
or their dreariness, things like Facebook and LinkedIn, both of which I
unreservedly lump in the same heap as Twitter – vacuous natter. But my insistence to master the fundamentals
of modern technology drives me nonetheless to address it. I am also consuming a great deal of my time
amending profiles on a number of other material web sites since I lately
changed a common email address (to correct at long last a stupid spelling
mistake made by Bell years ago). The
repercussions of such trivial modification are incredible! This is especially true now that so many
sites are connected to one another and because we have no less than five computing
devices with us on this trip alone (four fewer than we have when on home turf
if you can believe it).
Wednesday, December 25, 2013
Christmas Day at the Beach
Our winter vacation this year began exactly one week ago today,
Wednesday, December 18th one hour after the MRPC Board of Directors
meeting. It was a leisurely three-day
drive from the Canada to Hilton Head Island buoyed by the usual holiday
exhilaration and latterly compensated by the longed-for sight of magnolia and
palm trees. While there was nothing
particularly punishing about the trip other than having to stay focussed on the
road for six hours a day it nonetheless took its toll. Even as late as last night for example we
were in bed shortly after eight o’clock and it wasn’t until about six-thirty
this morning that we surfaced to face the new day.
It's Christmas!
My sister Lindy and I have never relinquished the child-like exhilaration
of Christmas morning. Admittedly the
hysterics we contrived as children to the lead-up to Christmas have waned over
the years and the memories of them are now more than a bit hazy, but we still
recall the signal initiation to Christmas morning: “It’s Christmas!”
Monday, December 23, 2013
You only turn 65 once!
Having survived the Winter Solstice, and having this morning awoken with
anticipation to our first full day in the condo on the beach, I commence
settling into the not unwelcome routine of vacation. This year is especially noteworthy for me not
only because I carry on rejoicing in the generosity of the past month but also
because I mark a point of departure. Apart
from recent commercial attainments (long-awaited conditions precedent to moving
forward), it is equally important to me that I have attained the age of 65
years, a milestone which I view as a landmark in my life. Why it should be so I am not entirely
certain, but nonetheless the event marks for me no less than a time for
contemplation and personal rejuvenation.
Friday, December 6, 2013
Home for Christmas
One must adjudge that for Canadians in general Christmas is the Big Scene on the year’s tabular array. Unlike Americans who apparently distract themselves beyond recognition for the Thanksgiving Holiday (think of the winsomeness of Pilgrims and wild turkeys), Canadians prefer instead to immerse themselves in the nostalgia of skating on a frozen pond and everything rustic that is manifested by a Cornelius Krieghoff painting reminiscent of "the hardships and daily life of people living on the edge of new frontiers" (Charles C. Hill, Curator of Canadian Art at the National Gallery). This selected ambiance of holly berries, freshly-cut spruce boughs, a blazing hearth and frosted window panes is second nature to hearty, healthful Canadians. The Christmas season combines and heightens the elemental dimensions of traditional Canadian life in addition to heralding the midwinter solstice and the wretchedness that is winter.
Thursday, December 5, 2013
A Christmastime Story
This is a true story, one which I heard on CBC radio many years ago around Christmastime. One of the radio listeners - a woman - called CBC to relate the events which had recently transpired.
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