The Bottom Line Collection

The Bottom Line Collection features the columns of Roger Lajoie as they appeared in Oshawa This Week from Jan. 1, 1994 to July 6, 1997.

90 columns are included in the 200 page book, along with an introduction from the author.

A limited number of copies are still available for $10 via this web site.

Contact us to order your copy.

A portion of the proceeds from all sales will be donated to The Heart and Stroke Foundation.

The Bottom Line

Here are some recent columns:

ONE THING THAT CAN BE CONTROLLED IS WHAT WE THINK

(Bottom Line, Sunday, March 23, 2003)

A good friend of mind told me something that surprised me very much this week.

He admitted to me, my friend did, that the thought of a war breaking out between the United States and Iraq scared him a great deal.

It was surprising, this admission, because my friend has never struck me as a guy who admits to anything, least of all being scared about something. He's definitely the macho, red meat eating type -- which doesn't reveal his identity (I wouldn't do that anyway, it might embarrass him) but does tell you he doesn't like people to know when he's a little scared.

Anyway, my buddy is a bit spooked, to say the least, about what is more than likely to transpire in the Middle East this week.

Can't say I blame him or blame anybody for being a bit nervous about the state of the world these days. It can be a very frightening place as we all know too well.

I am not going to give my views on the U.S./Iraq showdown, but I am going to tell you what I told my friend to help him relax a little bit (at least I hope it did).

An uncle of mine who has long ago passed away told me many things I have used to keep myself sane over the years (not an easy thing to do, many who know me might say). The things he said weren't original thoughts of his, but he had a way of saying the right thing at the right time, my uncle did.

One of his favorite lines was "you may not always control your circumstances, but you can always control how you react to those circumstances."

Pretty smart advice when it comes to war -- or to anything else that hits you in life that is troubling or frightening.

My poor troubled buddy is frustrated that there is nothing he can do about the world scene. Many of us are. No matter how we feel about mounting world tensions, there is nothing any of us can do that would influence the outcome one way or another.

We can't control the final acts of George Bush or Saddam Hussein, but we can control how we react to whatever may transpire as a result of their acts.

Stay positive. Appreciate the country you live in. Take the news, whatever it is, and try and understand it instead of over-reacting one way or another. Breathe deeply, and hope for the best and get busy living your own life instead of trying to live the rest of the world's, too.

Nothing unique about that philosophy, I told my pal, but it's still sound. We can't control the real estate of Iraq, but we can control the real estate we own between our left ear and our right ear -- our minds.

"You may not always control your circumstances, but you can always control how you react to those circumstances." Words to live by.

Especially this week.

Would you rather play it safe and just be good, or take a risk and dare to be great?

(Bottom Line, Sunday, March 9, 2003) 

The answer to that question is what separates championship sports teams from also-rans, and also separates people who do remarkable things with their lives from people who don't do much with their lives.

Be safe and just be good. Take a risk and dare to be great.

It seems to be such an easy answer at first glance, doesn't it? Why of course -- dare to be great! We only have one life, so why not go for it?

But so many sports teams -- and so many people -- select the safe route. They never gamble, they never take chances and as a result, they never accomplish great things. They have "decent" lives and "pretty good" teams, but they are never "championship" calibre.

Why? Because they are afraid. And because of course they know that taking a risk can backfire and you may lose.

Watching the Toronto Maple Leafs FINALLY have the guts to make a couple of deals got me to thinking about the whole notion of taking risks in both sports and in life.

I do not advocate reckless gambling in sports or in life. Building championship teams and a championship-calibre life requires careful planning, smart decisions and a well thought out game plan.

But every once in a while, if you want to really go for all you can be, you have to take a risk. Really, you must -- because fantastic success isn't possible until you do.

I'm not talking about buying lottery tickets kind of risk taking. That's throwing away money. I'm not talking about doing something radical just for the sake of doing something radical -- that's throwing common sense away.

I'm talking about this - once you have the pieces in place with your team or in place in your life, then to "go to the next level" as the cliche goes, you have to make that daring next step. Take the leap. Dare to be great!

I have no idea if the Toronto Maple Leafs recent moves will make them a Stanley Cup winner down the road. But I do know this much after watching and covering sports for 23 years - they never will have the ultimate success unless they take that extra risk like they did this past week now and in the future.

You and I are like they are too in one respect; do we want a decent, quiet and heaven forbid, boring life? Play it safe at all times, never take risks, and chances are, you'll be like the Maple Leafs if everything works out for you -- always decent, hanging around, a pretty good team, a nice life -- but never a champion.

Want to REALLY try and be a winner? Take that risk you've been thinking about. Go ahead! If it doesn't work out, you can always try again you know.

Do what the Maple Leafs finally did this week.

Dare to be great.

WORK CAN BE MORE FUN THAN FUN

(Bottom Line, Sunday, March 2, 2003)

And the Bottom Line is -- the Bottom Line has a new home.

It has been close to two years now since I last wrote a regular column, as the Durham Post ceased publication in June, 2001. It has been more than five years since I left Oshawa This Week, as I moved on to bigger and better things on January 30, 1998.

Man, does time fly when you're having fun and re-inventing your career!

Leaving the newspaper business as a full-time occupation was absolutely the best thing I ever did. My life and career have never been better, as I hope you can gather from visiting here at www.rogerlajoie.com. But there have been two drawbacks -- I sincerely miss some of the people I worked with and the people I wrote for, and I haven't been able to indulge in one of my favorite forms of writing, the column.

But after much delay, the revamped www.rogerlajoie.com has arrived and with it, a new on-line edition of The Bottom Line, which will be in this space every Sunday.

So ladies and gentleman, boys and girls -- finally -- the Bottom Line returns after a lengthy absence.

Miss me? I didn't think so!

But you are at least curious, or you wouldn't have made it this far down the page. So let me start by telling you what I intend to do here each Sunday.

Write a newspaper column. Yeah, we know this is the Internet, but this will be a newspaper column quite similar to the ones I wrote during my newspaper days. One major difference -- they will appear completely uncensored because I own and operate this website.

Since this is a newspaper column, I won't insert a little smiling face here that is so common in e-mails. Just let me say I'm grinning at that thought, just like those little icon devils do.

I'll write about whatever strikes me as interesting every Sunday. I hope many of you who have been very, very kind to my writing efforts over the years will make it by to have a read. Please feel to e-mail any comments you might have as well, I always enjoy the feedback.

It took me 44 years to do it, but I finally came up with a mission statement for my life. Here it is -- My Work is My Play.

That's it. That's the key to life, in my opinion. If your work is like play, happiness is guaranteed. My work to me is more fun than fun is, if you catch my drift (please insert another smiling icon).

I love my work and I will share some of that love with you here each Sunday. 500 words, no more -- we're all busy, so I'll try to be brief.

My TSC company motto is "Veteran Experience, Rookie Enthusiasm." Like that? Hope so -- I am a writer after all!

So that's the bottom line this week. I'm back writing columns, with my veteran experience and rookie enthusiasm.

See ya next Sunday.

THIS ISN'T A GOODBYE...BUT JUST IN CASE
(Durham Post, January 26, 2001 edition)

I've often been asked what the hardest part of writing a weekly column is.
Is it coming up with different ideas all the time? No, not for me, I've got lots of ideas (over-active imagination you know!). Is it actually taking the time to write it up? No, I love to write, that's not a problem for me either. Is it finding the right words? Maybe sometimes, but to tell you the truth, I find all you have to do is - say what you mean and mean what you
say. Have an idea, do that - and your column will pretty much write itself most weeks.
No, it's none of the above. The hardest part of writing a weekly column for me has been finding a newspaper in this area that would run it.
That's partially a joke, but only partially. I have bounced around a fair bit in my years in Oshawa, as those of you who may have followed me around might already realize. There are a lot of things you can say about this area, but it certainly isn't the media capital of the world friends.
For the past two years and one month, The Durham Post has been my newspaper home. For the last 10 months, it's been more than my column home, it's been my full-time job as Editor-in-Chief (or at least it's the job I've spent the most time at. I do spread myself a little thin at times!).
This is not a goodbye column for two reasons. First, I don't write goodbye columns anymore because I've said goodbye so many times around here over the years and then came back again, well, it's getting a little tiresome.
Secondly, I'm not saying goodbye because I'm not really going any where. I have offered my services to continue my column in The Durham Post for as long as they care to run it. I've also offered to continue covering the Oshawa Generals and the Brooklin Redmen for the Post, as long as they care to take the stories. But as of today, I've resigned as Editor-in-Chief.
When I first took the job as Editor I wrote in my column that there was no choice for the Post anymore, they had to run my column. Well they did! Now the choice is up to them, because they're getting one a week whether they want it or not (by the way, my column is ALWAYS available every week at www.rogerlajoie.com, if I can get one more shameless free plug in!) -- but I no longer call the shots here.
Three years ago this month, I decided it was time for me to shake up my life and career and I made some painful decisions. These decisions involved taking some huge risks and basically re-inventing my career. It has been a hard process filled with some unbelievably long work days and lots of pitfalls, but it has paid off for me handsomely.
My new "full-time" job starts Monday as Director of Information of the Canadian Hockey League. It is nothing short of a fantastic opportunity for me and is a return to my roots in a manner of speaking; I first worked in the Ontario Hockey League (gulp!) 19 years ago. I plan on continuing to run my Triumph Sports Communications business and work on The Fan 590 radio station, but my other ventures will now take second fiddle to the CHL office.
It's an exciting time for me. I expect to have a great life working at jobs I love and finding the time to enjoy my family and friends too. I can now say that everything I do I would do as a hobby if the work didn't pay - you can't ask for more than that from life. I worked bloody hard to get where I am now and although I know you never "arrive" in life, I guess I can say
I've gone to the next plateau. As I write this morning, if anybody asked me for one word to describe my life, that word would be "sweet." Hard work doesn't pay off you say? For me it did, because I worked hard and smart. So there.
I wrote this column today for three reasons. Reason one: please welcome Michelle Wyton as the new Editor of the Post. A wonderful person and she'll be a wonderful Editor too. This community needs as many media voices as it can get and nobody is rooting for the Post more than me to succeed. No matter what happens, I'm confident the newspaper didn't lose anything in the Lajoie-for-Wyton deal (sorry, I'm a sports guy again, have to go back to the proper terminology!).
Second reason: To say thank you to Jim Ambrose, who hired me, and to Doreen Sykes, who replaced Jim as Publisher. Jim, I won't forget the opportunity you gave me and Doreen, I won't forget the support you gave me. Never.
Third and final reason: An uncle of mine always told me never to leave anything unsaid. "If you knew you were going to die tomorrow, who would you call?" he would ask. Before you could answer he'd say "what are you waiting for, make the call."
I expect many more opportunities to write columns, but I remember those words so let me get a final comment in before my space is up for today.
To everybody I have ever hurt, I offer my sincere apologies. To anybody who has ever hurt me, I offer you my forgiveness. Life is far too short for trivial arguments and quite frankly in the long run, all arguments are trivial. It has taken me 42 years to figure that out for sure but I know it now.
After 21 years in this business, half my life now, I realize that my career and life are really just getting started. I also realize that although that appears to be the case, you never know when life might throw you a fastball and change your plans. As my uncle said, you should never leave anything unsaid.
So although I fully expect you to read my column next week and I expect to be around for a long, long time yet, in my uncle's memory, let me say one final thing this week so you'll know.
I love you.

IF CURRENT TRENDS CONTINUE, THIS COLUMN WILL NEVER END
(Durham Post, January 12, 2001 edition)

DON'T FORGET THE BASICS WHEN IT COMES TO LEARNING ANYTHING
(Durham Post, January 19, 2001 edition)

Those French people - they have a different word for everything!
Comedian Steve Martin came up with the line years ago and it's a funny one. It's true too, they do have a different word for everything - well almost everything.
I grew up in Montreal and with a last name like Lajoie, you'd think I'd be perfectly bilingual. Well I'm not, which is one of the reasons I'm taking some French lessons this week as I prepare for a new job that starts in another week. I'm going to be working a fair bit with people in Quebec in my new role as director of information for the Canadian Hockey League, so it
was a perfect excuse to bone up on a language that I spoke a lot more when I was growing up than I speak now.
Actually I can speak French well enough I guess and I'm pretty good at writing it, but I felt it was time that I did some work on a language that I have done little work on since I first moved to Toronto, to attend what was then Ryerson Polytechnical Institute, in September, 1977.
My God, that is almost a quarter century ago! No wonder the language skills are a little rusty - and no wonder I feel a little old some days. I am getting old!
Anyway, I've enjoyed the experience and it has certainly kick started my ability to speak and write French. The experience has also driven home to me the importance of working on the basics - whether your working on language
studies or working on anything else in life.
You want to learn to speak French? Then start at the beginning and make sure you work on basic grammar. You want to learn how to play hockey? Then start at the beginning and make sure you know how to skate properly. You want to make sure your child gets a good education right from the start? Then make sure they learn the fundamentals of education, like good reading, writing and arithmetic skills.
The basics. The fundamentals. The nitty-gritty.
We tend to forget the basics at times, because, well, they are so basic we take them for granted. But it's amazing the number of times that forgetting the basics causes us grief that we could avoid with proper use of the fundamentals.
For instance, a teacher friend of mine told me recently that many students who struggle with school academics, especially at a young age, do so because they never learned the basics of reading and studying. If you can't read properly, a real fundamental of anybody's education, then chances are very high that you can't study properly either.
I obviously know a lot of hockey scouts, the people who are responsible for selecting players for professional hockey. These men grade prospective players and several scouts have told me that one of the biggest reasons that some talented players don't make it to the big-time is because they are poor skaters. How is it possible for a hockey player who plays maybe 80 games a season to be a poor skater? Probably because for far too long, they have neglected a fundamental of the game - their skating.
Another friend of mine works for a temporary help agency, so she sees a lot of resumes come down the line. Many of her clients are hoping to turn their temporary position into a full-time job, so they are constantly sending out resumes all over the place.
The vast majority of them are tossed aside after only a few seconds, she tells me. Why? Because they have a spelling mistake, or have another all-too-obvious error. One resume she received was for a proof-reading position with a small publishing firm and it had three spelling mistakes in the first couple of lines. The basics - if you can't get the basics right,
then chances are you won't be able to get the more complicated parts of what you're trying to do right either.
Ask a golf coach how often a faulty swing is because of a basic problem like constantly lifting your head during the swing. Ask a music teacher how often a student can't get the few basic chords right in a song and how that affects the entire song, no matter how complicated or easy the overall piece may be. Ask an exercise coach how often injuries occur due to the fact that the people doing the exercises don't warm up properly. 
"The best place to begin," The Good Witch told Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz, "is at the beginning." That is true if you're planning to follow the Yellow Brick Road or build a house. You always need to lay a foundation before you start putting on the roof, or else that roof may not stay up, no matter how good a roof builder you may be.
We ignore the basics far too often in just about all aspects of life I guess, so when it comes to brushing up on my French, I think I'll start with the basics and go from there. The fundamentals - where it all begins. They may be boring, we may not want to do them, but we have to if we want long term success.
For instance, want to be a good parent to your kids? How about starting with the basics - like telling them you love them?
You can build a lot with a solid foundation like that.

TIME IS RIGHT NOW FOR A BRAND NEW CIVIC IN OSHAWA
(Durham Post, January 5, 2001 edition)

BRING ON THE 21ST CENTURY, I'M READY
(Durham Post, December 29, 2000 edition)

In a few short days it's going to be 2001.
Geez, 2001, as in "2001, a Space Odyssey" kind of thing. Yikes! The 21st friggin century, no less!
Well I'm ready for it. Bring it on I say!
I have never been one to be afraid of the future, or afraid of the times we live in. Despite the obvious imperfections of our world and all of the problems that mankind faces, I truly believe that we are privileged to be alive during this very special time in mankind's history.
It is an exciting time, a thrilling time actually, that we get to live in. Just imagine what a different world we have at our disposal, compared to the one available to people who lived at the turn of the last century.
The automobile. Airplane travel. Radio. Television. The internet. None of these things existed back in 1901 and for the most part, they didn't even exist in 1951. The last 100 years, it can be argued, have seen more changes than the previous 1,000 years before it combined, at least when it comes to things like communications and travel.
We can do on a daily basis here and now things that our great grandparents could never have imagined possible in
their entire lifetimes. Totally amazing, when you stop and think about it.
That rapid fire pace of life is frightening to some. People complain about the pace of life and the pace of change all the time. I happen to think it's fantastic. Change before you have to is one of my life's mottoes. To each
his or her own, I guess.
And as for the future? Well, who knows what the next 100 years may bring? Anybody who thinks they know are just kidding themselves; we know nothing of the future anymore than we know what evil lurks in the hearts of men either
- only The Shadow knows (if you are under 40 ignore that last comment, you just wouldn't understand. Those over 40 will no doubt get it).
But predicting the future? Forget about it, it is pointless to try. Why, do you remember last New Year's Eve and the predictions that surrounded the change from 1999 to 2000?
We can all laugh about them now, but a lot of people weren't laughing at the time. A lot of Y2K survival packs were sold and a lot of canned creamed corn got stored in a lot of basements, all for naught (not that there's anything wrong with keeping a few extra cans of creamed corned in the pantry, nuclear holocaust or not!).
What the Y2K lack-of-crisis proved to us was that we really don't know what the future may hold, no matter how much we may try to predict it...so why bother to even try to predict it? It is much more fun just to hang around as long as we can and watch the future unfold, unspoiled by our trying so desperately to forecast it.
And it will unfold as it may, regardless of our attempts to try and figure it all out. Nobody knows what's next for any of us. Nobody.
I will make one prediction for you, however...that's you, the person reading this right now, with the newspaper in front of your eyes.
2001 will be a year for you to remember because you will come to discover that every precious year on this planet is a year to remember. Good times or bad times are still better than no times - I have lost too many dear friends at too young an age not to understand that much about the great mysteries of life.
You will discover that too, without having to go through the pain of losing somebody who dies too young. Don't ask me how I know that about you, I just do. Call it instinct.
2001 truly is a great time in history to be alive - as was 1901. Or 1934. Or 1863. Or as will be 2101. 2001 is an especially great time because it's the turn of the century, but it's an especially great time because it's the only time you and I have to share on this planet. It's a time that will be over in all probability before you and I are ready for it to be, too.
So...let's enjoy it. Let's make 2001 a year to remember. And 2002. And 2003...and in every year for as many years as we get to hang around on this planet earth.
It's a fast pace we live in these days, to be sure. Lots of changes coming our way, whether we're ready for them or not. Are you ready? I am.
I'm ready for more change, I'm ready for the fast pace and I'm ready to hang tight and enjoy every moment that comes my way. I hope you are too.
We're on the eve of the 21st friggin' century you say? Well friend, I say - bring it on!
And never mind trying to predict it - let's just see what unfolds, shall we? I don't know about you, but I can't wait to see what the future holds.
Happy New Year!

'TIS THE SEASON TO BE SHOPPING
(Durham Post, December 22, 2000 edition)

'Tis the season to be grumpy, fa la la la la, la la la la!
It sure seems that way anyway, if you've spent any time at all at any shopping mall in the past few days.
Apparently you all have. It is literally impossible to get a decent parking spot at any area mall this Christmas shopping season. I mean it's always bad at this time of year, but this year seems especially bad to me.
What also seems bad to me are the moods of some of the people heading out to do their Christmas shopping...especially those who are trying to find one of those precious parking spaces.
Hey everybody, it's Christmas! It's a time for giving, for sharing and for discovering the true meaning of Christmas - which, as we all know, is to find a Boxing Day bargain three days before Boxing Day.
That's a joke by the way - I can see you're not even smiling. You are probably that grumpy, stupid idiot that took the parking spot on me the other day!
So I'm coming into the Oshawa Centre and there isn't a parking place in sight, as is always the case at this time of year. Along comes this freakin van and just as I'm about to snag a spot about five miles from Sears, in he swoops! So I give him a friendly wave, using only one of my fingers (so I could concentrate on my driving) and head off to find the other empty spot in the 12,543 spot parking area. Two days later. I enter the Centre, no thanks to Mr. 'I Have a Van, I own the OC parking lot' moron!
Where was I? Oh yes, grumpy people at Christmas time.
Doing last minute Christmas shopping is not for the faint of heart. I really don't understand why so many people wait until the last minute and all crowd the malls at once - it's not as if Dec. 25 is hidden on the calendar, after all.
That's why so many of you are so grumpy. You are angry with yourselves for not starting your Christmas shopping earlier so you could have stayed home and drank Egg Nog, instead of venturing outside on such a lousy night. Don't blame the rest of us because you are too disorganized to have your shopping done in decent time.
There you all are, buying last minute gifts, spoiling it for people like me. Why I don't even really START my Christmas shopping until today, Dec. 22!
Oh, I basically know what I'm getting my family for Christmas. It's just that I haven't gotten around to buying the stuff yet. Starting tonight, I will, as I head to the OC for my usual Christmas buying binge. Many of you will be "finishing up" your Christmas shopping tonight. I will be basically starting mine, at least for my family anyway.
I normally spend so much time in the OC over the course of a year that the owners, Cambridge Shopping Centres Limited, want to charge me rent. Usually I can walk around the mall at my leisure, saying no to my daughter's repeated requests for me to buy her a new CD or magazine, as we enjoy some quality family time in relative peace and quiet - especially after I give in for the magazine and she leaves me alone to enjoy my coffee and book in the food court while she goes to buy it (I treat the OC's food court like my den).
But at this time of year, it's impossible for "mall regulars" like me to have any peace at all because so many of you grumpy procrastinators are clogging up the aisles and taking all the parking spots. To top it off, most of you don't even know what you're looking for, judging by the stupid, blank looks on your faces as you stumble around the mall, making it virtually impossible for me to race by you heading for the next stop on my list.
Move over, would ya! Some of you look like you've never been in a mall before in your lives! People like me, the really dedicated and organized last minute Christmas shopper, know exactly where we want to go and exactly what we want to buy. The rest of you are spoiling all of the fun, or as I like to say, you are gumming up the whole works!
Tonight is the night, time to go shopping and get this year's Christmas gifts for the little family. I must say, I'm not looking forward to it as much as I have in previous years.
The reason is simple - you! That's right, you, with the stupid look on your face as you try to decide between the pair of slippers or the Old Spice gift set for Uncle Bill. I got news for you sucker, the last Old Spice gift set you gave Uncle Bill three years ago is still sitting under his bathroom sink. Get the slippers, get something - but just get the hell out of my way, I have shopping to do and it's my mall, damn it! I'm in here all the time, you're not, so get out of my parking spot and take the friggin bus!!!
Oh yeah, one other thing.
Merry Christmas.

LOVE, LOVE ME DO...THIS CHRISTMAS
(Durham Post, December 15, 2000 edition)

My daughter asked me a really tough question the other day.
The question was, "Dad, what do you want for Christmas?"
Actually, I believed she phrased the question, "Hey homie, what do you want for Christmas?"
I am apparently a homie now, which my daughter informs me is a good thing.
"Homie" is apparently a word used to mean "pal" or "friend" or "brother" in today's slang - as in, "he ain't heavy, he's my brother" kind of thing. (That's an expression that was used many years ago to describe someone who was not really your brother, but your brother as in a close friend...oh never mind).
Anyway my homie, eh, daughter, wanted to know what I wanted for Christmas.
It's usually a hard question to answer when somebody asks me - after all, what does one buy a man like me, a man that refuses to wear anything that doesn't have a logo on it from one of the 10 places he works for; a man who wears a $10 watch and uses a $20 wallet and is proud of it; a man so suave, so smart...such a "homie" kind of guy?
Well this year, come to think of it, the question wasn't all that tough. I knew exactly what I wanted.
Keeping in mind that my soon-to-be 17-year-old daughter loves me very, very much -  but not enough to want to spend more than $20 or so on a Christmas gift for her "homie" Dad (hey, she needs her cash to "buy herself" another 400 CDs or so) - I had the solution.
"What I want from you Nicki is the number one selling record in North America right now," was the response. Notice I said record, not CD. Showing my age again I guess.
"Oh," she replied, lukewarm to the idea, although she knew what I was talking about. When I told her the said item was on sale downstairs for $14.99, she quickly warmed up to the idea, so there will be no surprise from my daughter under the Christmas tree for me this year.
What will be there from Nicki is a CD - and a cassette tape version of it for my car, thoughtfully recorded by her - of what was the number one selling record in North America (at least it was for a while last week).
You might have heard of the group that I'll be listening to this Christmas. Four lads from Liverpool. The Fab Four they called them. They were The Beatles.
Beatles 1 was indeed at the top of the charts recently and I must say, it warmed my heart. More than 30 years have passed since they first recorded a number one hit, but "Love Me Do" still sounds as fresh and as fun as it did when I first heard it. Not that I really appreciated it that much back then, being just six or seven years old at the time.
Obviously I am not alone in this sentiment about the Fab Four, or Beatles 1 would not have made it to Number 1. How deliciously ironic that is! This record (sorry, CD), is a compilation of the 27 songs The Beatles recorded that officially made it to Number 1 on the charts, hence The Beatles 1 name. Now Beatles 1 is Number 1.
My daughter was absolutely shocked that they had 27 number one songs. Quite frankly, I thought they had more. My daughter was absolutely shocked they all fit on just one CD. Quite frankly, I knew they would because the "early" number 1 songs they did were only two to two-and-half minutes long (unlike "Get Back" and "Hey Jude" from the later years). My daughter was absolutely shocked when she first heard The Beatles were at the top of the charts. Tell you the truth, so was I. Guess we both should have known better.
So much has changed as we all get ready for Christmas 2001 (I don't know about you, but 2001 seems even more freaky to me than 2000 did!). The world is a completely different place now than it was when "love, love me dooo" was first heard.
Or is it?
I walked the shopping malls with my Mom back then and asked her what she wanted for Christmas too, just like my daughter walks the malls with me now, asking me the same question. I loved my family when I was the kid and she was the parent in the same I love my family now, that the roles have been reversed. And how about this - back when I was growing up, I probably walked those malls humming a little song in my head that was the number one record in North America at the time (love, love me dooo, you know I love you, I'll al-ways be true, so pleaseeeeese - love me do!), just like I'm doing in 2001. See, not everything changes after all.
Thanks in advance for the Christmas present Nicki, I'm going to enjoy it.
You're a good little homie.

THERE ARE SOME STORIES YOU NEVER FORGET
(Durham Post, November 17, 2000 edition)

I have a little story to tell you about one of the greatest broadcasters in hockey history today. No, it's not me...so please keep reading.
His name was Ted Darling and he was the voice of the Buffalo Sabres of the National Hockey League for many years. Prior to that he was a host on Hockey Night in Canada.
His son Joel followed in his Dad's media footsteps and is now the executive producer of Hockey Night in Canada, one of the most powerful jobs in sports media. The Darling name therefore has been synonymous with hockey broadcasting for many years.
Ted Darling was one of the best in the business, let me tell you. He had that high-pitched voice that separated him from many of today's broadcasters, who all sound so much the same. Nobody could say "The Sabres!" like Ted Darling could.
Ted was heard in this area a great deal, since a few Buffalo stations have always been available in this market. He was a one-of-a-kind announcer, that's for sure; love him or not love him, you just had to listen to Ted Darling call a game.
His family certainly loved Ted too...so much so that they kept private a battle that Ted fought for several years before his death.
Whispers began circulating one hockey season that Ted was "losing it" during his calls of Sabre games. He was apparently having trouble remembering certain player's names and he appeared to be slurring his words on-air a fair bit, an obviously serious problem for such an articulate man in the broadcast booth.
Ted was eventually removed from the telecasts and at the time, no clear reason was given. I don't recall his exact age when his career ended, but he wasn't that old a man. Many of my colleagues assumed that he perhaps had a drinking problem, which might explain the difficulties he was having on-air.
Like many assumptions, it was a foolish and unfounded one. Ted Darling didn't had a drinking problem. Ted Darling was suffering from a form of Dementia.
I don't know exactly what Ted's problem was, since his family kept it a private matter (which is their right). The unfounded rumours finally came to an end, however, when it was Ted's turn to take his rightful place in the Hockey Hall of Fame.
His problems had become so severe by then that he required full-time attention and care. In fact, on the day of the luncheon to honour him and other new inductees, Ted did something he was doing a great deal of by then - he wandered away from his hotel room and was lost in the streets of Toronto for a little while.
Imagine, one of the greatest broadcasters in hockey history, wandering around the streets, not knowing where he was - on the very day he was to be honoured.
He was eventually found and his family took him to the function. A photo of them sitting together at the table ran in the Toronto newspapers the next day and it was a bittersweet one for fans of the legendary broadcaster, who saw him for the first time in several years.
He was clearly disoriented and ill - but the brave smiles of his loving family around him were as beautiful a thing as I think I've ever seen in a newspaper photograph.
Imagine their pain of seeing such a vibrant, wonderful man literally slip away before their eyes. It's a pain many families in our community feel on a daily basis, as they try and cope in their roles of caregivers. What a wonderful word that is by the way - caregiver. And what a hard thing that is to be to a loved one who is seriously ill.
You may not know anyone with Alzheimer Disease or other form of Dementia, but you will. We are living longer now and that means more of us will be affected by this horrible progressive and degenerative brain disease - it is a sad consequence of an aging society (although tragically Alzheimer Disease can effect people much younger as well). Estimates are that in the next 20 years, the number of people affected will triple.
That was part of the startling message delivered Wednesday morning at the Alzheimer Society of Durham's Walk for Memories 2001 Kick-Off Brekafast, held at Cullen Gardens.
The 2001 Walk for Memories goes Sunday, Jan. 7 at Cullen Gardens starting at 10 a.m. Pledge forms are available at Cullen Gardens, CHEX-TV Durham and at other leading businesses through the area. Funds raised will go towards Family Support Services, Education and Alzheimer research. A lunch and family entertainment follows. Call 576-2567 or 1-888-301-1106 for more details, or check out www.alzheimerdurham@oix.com.
You'll read more about the walk leading up to it in The Durham Post, but for today I just wanted to share that little story about Ted Darling with you. The Alzheimer slogan is "Forget Me Not." Let's not forget about these people and their families on Jan. 7.

HALLOWEEN WAS ALWAYS A SPECIAL NIGHT FOR US
(Durham Post, October 28, 2000 edition)

MY DAUGHTER NICKI, THE GREAT PUMPKIN HEAD
(Durham Post, March 24, 2000 edition)

My daughter really is a Pumpkin Head.
She would not be the lest bit offended that I’ve called her that. In fact, to her, the name is a great compliment.
Pumpkin Head as in Smashing Pumpkins, of course, the alternative music band she so adores (alternative to what, I've always wondered, when I hear the term -- alternative music. Alternative to anything decent sounding is what I say).
I do not quite understand my daughter's fascination with The Smashing Pumpkins, or their lead singer, Billy Corgan. This fact does not concern me, however, because I am 41 years old and my daughter is 16 years old. We are therefore not expected to understand each other.
When I was 16 years old, back in the good old days before banking machines, VCRs and the Internet made us all such smart and wonderful people, my parents didn't understand me either. I'm quite sure they held Steppenwolf in the same regard as I do the Pumpkins and didn't understand why I could listen to "Born to be Wild" over and over again either. Parents and children never understand each other -- it's one of the great laws of the universe. We're not supposed to, especially when it comes to musical tastes. There is only one exception to this rule -- Frank Sinatra.
Anyway, the fact that my daughter's room is crowded with Smashing Pumpkins posters and memorabilia, the fact that she has about five dozen of their CDs, and the fact that she will flip the car radio to station after station until she finds one of their songs, is of no particular concern to me. My parents had their music, I have my music (just take those old records off the shelf, I'll sit and listen to them by myself), and she has her music. We all think the other generation's music is garbage. So be it.
However, recently Nicki (don't call me Nicole) took her Pumpkin fascination to a new level -- she took it to the streets. The Smashing Pumpkins were coming to town (town being Toronto of course. Nothing of such fabulous importance to the world could ever happen in Oshawa, naturally), and Nicki was going to meet her idols.
This required her waiting outside a record store in downtown Toronto over night so she could be near the front of the line for the autograph session that Billy and his band were staging (I digress here for a moment -- are they still called record stores? If so, why?). This required her and her close friend Christina (an even bigger Pumpkin Head than her), spending close to a day outside bundled up on the sidewalk in a sleeping bag waiting for the great moment. This required her mother and Christina's mother taking turns checking in on them making sure they both hadn't decided to become street children and do this for more than one night a year.
This happened more than a week ago and I do not understand why. I have no doubt that I will never understand why. It just happened with no reasonable explanation anywhere in site -- sort of like the disco era.
Everything turned out all right by the way. Nicki and Christina met their idols, got some autographs and even went to the concert the following night. It was the best day of my life -- my daughter tells me. Hard to find fault with a statement like that.
I made it down to Toronto twice as well, to check in on the proceedings. Here is what I discovered:
1. There are a lot of Pumpkin Heads out there. Nicki and Christina were accompanied by hundreds of others. Many of them now are friends spending time together in internet chat rooms discussing how sexy Billy is, no doubt (the guy is bald and is a Yul Brenner wannabe if you ask me, but what do I know?).
2. I walked down the long, long lineup several times during my two visits. Hundreds and hundreds of young people just hanging out. No problems, no fights, no booze, no drugs -- just kids waiting to meet an idol. Billy Corgan isn't my bag, but hey, he's theirs. So be it.
3. The security guards and police around the proceedings seemed to like the gig. We do them all the time, one cop told me. No big deal, the kids are pretty good. Seems like he was right.
Let me say this one more time -- I do not understand any of this fascination. However let me also say this: I understand that kids have to make their own choices, follow their own voices, and find out for themselves the consequences of their actions. My parents certainly didn't approve or understand some of the things I did when I was 16, but they didn't stop me from doing them. They supported me the best they could and were there when I needed them, but I had my own life to live. So does Nicki.
I'm glad everything worked out, I'm glad Nicki's mother (who loves her dearly) didn't wind up killing her and I'm glad we all now have a great story to tell. And I'm so glad to hear Nicki say it was the greatest day of her life, because you can't beat that.
I know that first hand. The greatest day of my life was the day she was born.

IS THIS A GREAT COUNTRY OR WHAT - MORE TAX BREAKS!
(Durham Post, March 3, 2000 edition)

    Gas is 72 cents a litre, our health care system is in a crisis and there are record numbers of homeless people on the streets of our major Canadian cities.
    Thank goodness the economy is booming, eh?
     Imagine how bad things would be if things weren’t so fantastic as they are now. According to both the government of Ontario (led by premier Mike Harris) and the government of Canada (led by prime minister Jean Chretien and prime minister in waiting Paul Martin), the economy is just racing along. That’s why they are being so nice to us and giving us tax cuts. We will then take this extra money we have and use it to help fuel inflation and drive interest rates up (don’t ask me how that works but apparently it does. Ask any economist).
     But the economy really must be booming (governments wouldn’t lie to us, would they?), because every financial section of every newspaper I read says it is. All the television shows say it is too, and the radio reports.
     Well I’m certainly glad to hear that. In fact, Mr. Martin told us on budget day this week, “the days of deficit are gone and they’re not coming back.�
     That’s great news! Thanks to three consecutive years of annual budget surpluses under Martin, the national debt is now down to a paltry $577 billion.
     Now to you and I, who are just stupid taxpayers after all, a $577 billion debt may seem like a lot of money.  Shows how little we know! That figure is so insignificant that this year’s budget surplus will be handed out to us in tax breaks (which we really need) and increased social spending (which we also really need), and not towards debt reduction (which we don’t really need, because that’s going to be the problem of generations to come, not ours) .
     There is $1 billion budgeted for “extra prudence� that barring a financial disaster – say like hosting an Olympic Games or something equally stupid – that will be used for debt reduction. Therefore, since we can’t get suckered in to hosting the Olympics for another eight years yet, the national debt should be down to $576 billion by next year.
     So…it’s party time in Canada!
     Since we’re all going to have extra cash from the tax breaks, I have some suggestions as to what we should all do with our new found booty. I base my suggestions on the way governments handle our money – hey, if they can do it, then so should we, with our personal finances.
     First, the average Canadian is massively in debt (put your hand up if you’re carrying a balance on a credit card, for instance. I see a lot of hands!). Now, whatever you do, do not take any of this tax cut money and apply it towards your debt. That might help you financially, but it would hurt THE ECONOMY, which needs you to go out and spend more money and get into further debt so we can create jobs. See how it works?
     Forget about your debt and use this money to preferably buy an expensive luxury item – like a litre of gas, for instance, or maybe a nice pack of smokes. By buying items like these, governments can collect wads of tax money and in the future, give us more tax cuts. Isn’t life wonderful!
     Use some of the money for your own personal “social programs� too – just like the government is doing. You can use some of your tax cut loot to pay for parking at the library, to pay the tax that’s been added to our insurance premiums over the years, or to pay the user fees that are now charged for many of your kids minor sports events. We pay for these things now, of course, in order to enable local governments to say that our property taxes have been “frozen� for years. Just like the feds and the provincial governments, our local politicians want us to get tax breaks from them, too.
     Is this a great country or what!
     Finally, you might want to use your tax cut money to invest in RSPs over the next few years. This is a very good idea and our governments are encouraging us to do this as much as possible, because our pension plan program, that we’re all still paying into, is going broke. If we all take our tax cut money and put it into RSPs, then the government will have an excuse not to pay us the pension we’ve worked for, because we were smart enough to take our tax cut money they gave back to us and create our own pension plan! The money we’ve paid into the Canada pension plan will then be used for useful things, like future tax cuts!
     So you see, it’s not all that complicated. Here’s the way things are:
     The economy is booming. We’re all getting tax cuts. Take the money your saving and put it into circulation to drive inflation and create jobs. And don’t waste any time paying down your debt – be just like the government.
     Who knows – maybe one day we’ll all have enough money to be able to afford a litre of gas.

Y2K GENERATORS FOR SALE, REAL CHEAP!
(Durham Post, Jan. 5, 2000 edition)

    Anybody want to buy a generator?
     How about some bottled water? Some canned goods, perhaps? Or maybe some batteries, just in case?
 Y2K came and went and as it turns out, we never had any need for those Y2K survival kits that some people picked up in the weeks leading to the year 2000 change-over. Y2K came and went without the need for anything but some champagne (and the price of champagne on New Year’s Eve proved one thing – being a crook isn’t necessarily against the law! But I digress).
     Like the rest of you, I’m very happy Y2K passed without incident. You see, I didn’t buy a generator. I did not buy any bottled water. I detest canned food and thus didn’t buy any. No batteries, no extra gas in the garage, no wads of cash either (it’s the week after Christmas, who the hell has any money to take out of the bank anyway!).
     I did not spend any time fretting over the change from 1999 to 2000. I did not spend any time listening to the garbage being spit out by border-line lunatics on the internet who were all holed up in the mountains somewhere predicting the end. I did not spend any time listening to news reports in the mainstream media, some of which did everything they could to get people if not panicking about, at least thinking about,  the terrible things that might happen.
     The doomsayers were out in force on this one, making their dire predictions of doom. Planes falling out the sky (right – as if any sane pilot is ever taking off if there’s any threat of a problem). Elevators crashing to the ground full of people (as if anybody is going to be in an elevator at midnight New Year’s Eve anyway). Nuclear powers turning on each other (one story not widely reported in the media was that Russian and American nuclear authorities planned long ago to spend  New Year’s Eve 1999 in constant communication. Why report that story - it would ruin a good panic).
     Bottom line is this: as much as some segments of our society tried, they could not induce a panic and could not spread their prophecies of doom to most people, especially the hundreds of thousands of people that celebrated the New Year in public places.
     Good for us. Now those doomsayers can go away.
     Unfortunately they won’t, however. We had doomsayers around this earth in the year 1000, we have them in 2000 and they’ll still be here in 3000 too. Predicting the end, thinking they know everything, putting a negative spin on any positive development that happens in the world.
     Doomsayers, let me say this to you – either go hide in a cave in the mountains like a scared rabbit and shut up and leave the rest of us alone, or get some psychological counseling about your fears and join the world of the living.
     Y2K taught us three important lessons we should all remember, now that the good old world didn’t blow up after all.
     Lesson Number One: You can’t go around living your life scared. There’s a big difference between not walking into a dark alley alone at 2 a.m. and being afraid to leave your basement. Sure, be careful in life, but don’t be scared either. By all means, keep some extra batteries, a flashlight, a few bucks and some water around the house, in case we ever get an Ice Storm like many Canadians did in 1998. But don’t go buying any gas masks either on the advice of people who have no idea what they’re talking about. And bravo to places like New York City, that refused to cave into terrorist threats and went ahead with their New Year’s Eve parties.
     Lesson Number Two: Identifying a problem is 50 percent of solving the problem. Several years ago the potential problems of Y2K were identified and thus billions of dollars were spent in correcting any flaws.  Mankind has proved time and time again, it can solve problems once we can all agree that there is a problem. The result – the problems don’t become major problems. (By the way, there were also no Y2K problems in many countries that ignored global warnings to update their computer systems – makes you wonder a little, doesn’t it?).
     Lesson Number Three: We are all interconnected on this planet. The best part of New Year’s Eve for me was watching the celebrations from around the world on television – for the first time, we arrogant North Americans finally realized our midnight celebration isn’t the only one on earth. What a refreshing change that was, to see the rest of the world celebrate when it turned midnight for them, instead of just “us.�
     We have absolutely no idea, ladies and gentlemen, how bloody lucky we are to be alive on this wonderful, wonderful planet. Life at its worst will always be better than the alternative.
     But the doomsayers will be back, never fear. There will be more prophecies, there will be more crisis’s, there will be more hiding in basements in the future. There will be more fear, a little of it perhaps real, most of it imagined. That’s just the way some people think.
     When they come back, remember those three Y2K lessons and no matter what happens, face the future with confidence and a smile. Reject fear. We are lot tougher and smarter as a species than many of us think we are.
     I for one am happy just to be here in 2000. Every thing else is just gravy, really. However, I have just one small complaint about Y2K.
     75 stinking bucks for a bottle of cheap champagne on New Year’s Eve. Geez!!!

I REMEMBER TOO ON REMEMBRANCE DAY
(Durham Post, Nov. 10 edition)

      If you’re familiar with the Montreal Gazette newspaper at all (I grew up in Montreal, so I know it well), then you are familiar with the work of the cartoonist Aislin.
     One of his most famous editorial cartoons is one he did for Remembrance Day many years ago. It featured a chain smoking then premier of Quebec, Rene Levesque, and an old war veteran with a tray of poppies for sale.
     The war veteran hands a poppy to a disinterested Levesque. The war veteran says to Levesque in the cartoon “Je me souviens.�
     Je me souviens is the official slogan of Quebec nationalists. It means “I remember.�
     The political message of that cartoon was obvious and poignant. But the cartoon (which I have a copy of) was about Remembrance Day just as much as it was a shot at Quebec nationalists (I will take a shot at Quebec nationalists myself any time, but not today).
      Remembrance Day. A day to remember those that fought and died in battles for our freedom.
      I’m 41 years old and I have lived in Canada all my life. I therefore have never had to run into a bomb shelter in the middle of the night, I have never had to worry about being drafted into the army, I have never lost a relative or a friend in a war. I have always lived in “peace,� or at least what we have come to know as “peace� at the turn of this century. People die every day in wars now, but not where we live.
     So, I don’t have any war stories for you…no tales of horror to pass on to you, no terrible atrocities committed to me or a loved one to tell you about, no battlefield memories to relate to you.
     I thank God for that. And I thank those that do have war stories for all they did to make sure that I wouldn’t have any.
     It has been 54 years now since the Second World War ended. That means you’d have to be in your seventies at least to have been a veteran of that war. It has been 80 years now since the First World War ended. That means all but a precious few of those veterans have passed on.
     That means most of us don’t have any direct experience with war, unless we came here from a country that has, or unless we have served in the military and been assigned to a war torn country.
     No wonder, then, so many of us have become so blasé about Remembrance Day. We don’t have anything or anybody to really remember.
     How do most of us react to Remembrance Day? That can be best summed up in the recent arguments over the traditional “eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month� moment of silence. Veterans want that tradition expanded to two minutes this year because it’s obvious it’s starting to slip away from us.
     There are areas of this country where that moment isn’t even observed. Where it is, it’s usually only for a few seconds because we’re all so “busy� and we can’t take the time. That proves two things to me.
     First, our society has become so arrogant and self-centered that even shutting up for 60 seconds is to much of a hassle for us. Second, the men and women that we are supposed to remembering on Nov. 11 did an outstanding job protecting our freedom because it has gotten to the point that we have taken it for granted.
     If there’s a defining statement we can make about our lives as we approach 2000 it’s this – we take things for granted. We take our health for granted, we take our families for granted, we take our freedom for granted. We take it for granted that I and others like me can freely express our opinions in a public forum.
     As sad as that fact is, I think the veterans still among us can take some solace from that – they did such an outstanding job preserving our freedom that some of us think there’s not even any reason for Remembrance Day any more. Talk about getting the job done!
     To all of you who have war stories to tell, I say thank you. Some of us might be too smug and too all-knowing to say that, but not all of us. I’m sure many people reading this would say thank you to you as well.
     And on Nov. 11, I’m taking two minutes out of my busy life to pause as well. That seems like such a small gesture, but apparently some of us can’t even spare that much time. It’s the least we can do and it’s the least we should do.
     Off goes the computer. Off goes the cel phone. Off goes the mouth, which might be the hardest thing to shut down for 120 seconds. I will take some time to properly acknowledge this great, great tradition no matter what anybody else is doing around me.
     Why? I have a three word answer for you.
     Je me souviens.

HALLOWEEN IS STILL A GREAT TRADITION
(Durham Post, Oct. 27 edition)

    Halloween is very underrated.
    Really, it is. In my mind, Halloween ranks right up there at the top of the list of the great holidays of the year.
    Well, Halloween isn’t really a holiday – nobody gets a day off work with pay on Halloween (unless your union has a very, very strong contract, that is!) – but it is still a great tradition that I’m glad to see is still with us.
    Halloween has faced a lot of challenges since I last went trick or treating. My career ended in 1971 when at age 13, I determined it was no longer “cool� to go outside dressed up and get free candy at people’s houses. I was 13, what did I know. Halloween was, and forever will be, a “cool� thing for a kid of any age to do.
    When I was young enough to go get free candy door-to-door, Halloween was one of the days we all really looked forward to. You counted the days until Halloween when I was a kid in the same way you counted the days to go until Santa came (Christmas, by the way, is very overrated, but that is another story).
    Getting a few bags of free candy probably doesn’t mean as much to many kids today, primarily because the average 13-year-old (and younger) kid of 1999 is a lot more sophisticated than the kids of my era were. Hey, these kids surf the Internet, these kids can watch 100 channels on television, these kids can rent movies, play video games and listen to compact disk players. Getting dressed up and getting some free candy at your neighbours one night a year has a lot of entertainment competition.
    In my day (God, this is depressing me, I sound just like my Mom!), only California beach bums went surfing, there were 10 channels on TV (if you had basic cable, then maybe 20), the movies were for special occasions and only in theatres, the Etch-A-Sketch was as close to technology as we got, and you could listen to the turntable, but only when your parents weren’t around to tell you to turn the volume down. Getting dressed up and getting some free candy at your neighbours was the highlight of the entire fall season! It got us out of the damn boring house for starters!
    Increased competition isn’t the only thing that has changed, of course. You were more likely to know your neighbours in 1971 than in 1999, so you didn’t worry so much about your younger kids going to people’s homes. Halloween has been tainted by some tainted candy stories too, along with totally stupid behavior on the part of some people who think the night is an excuse to loot and destroy property.
    But still, the tradition continues. The streets will be filled with little kids (and some big ones too) dressed up in the costumes of the day, going door-to-door looking for treats on Sunday night. They are all welcome at my house.
    You should make them welcome at your house too, because not only is Halloween underrated, it’s important to us.
 It’s important because kids that go out for Halloween learn to interact with strangers, people they have been taught to fear (with good reason, in some cases). Kids must be careful, of course, but they must not live in fear. Halloween teaches them that the vast majority of people are not to be feared – they are good people who just want to keep the tradition alive. Of course be careful – but kids should learn to be self-confident too.
    It’s important because kids that go out for Halloween learn about the sense of fellowship and community that nights like this foster in our neighbourhoods. Give them a chance and most people will be decent – your kids will see that first hand when they come back home with enough sweets to make a dentist drool! (by the way, Rockets are still the greatest Halloween candy, that will never change! And the best Halloween joke ever is still this: why didn’t the skeleton cross the road? Because he didn’t have any guts!).
    And it’s important because we can all take part – we can take out kids, we can give out candy at the door, we can even dress up ourselves – no matter what role we play in this tradition, it’s just important that we keep it going.
    Yes, the world is a much different place than it was the last time I said “trick or treat� at the door of somebody I had never met. I had to grow up and because of the world they live in now, today’s kids have had to grow up a little bit faster than I did. That’s a little sad, but we’ve paid a price for all the toys and trappings we have now, I guess.
    But for one night anyway, we can all be a little more innocent than we’re usually allowed to be in 1999. Our kids can still go up to our doors and on Sunday night, ask people they’ve never met the age old question – “Trick or Treat?�
    And may the answer to that question forever be the same.
    Treat.

ON THE ROAD AGAIN WITH "THEM"
(Durham Post, Sept. 29 edition)

    WINDSOR – I was 31 years old last time I made a long road trip with a bunch of teenage hockey players.
     It was with the 1989 Toronto Marlboros, a team I was business manager of. We went to Cornwall, Ontario for a few days to play games three and four of a playoff series. The Marlies are long gone and for that matter, so are the Royals.
     It’s 10 years later, I’m 41 on another long road trip. I’m covering the 1999 Oshawa Generals, who started the season with a four-day road trip to Windsor, Plymouth and Sarnia to open the season. Funny thing though…the kids on the bus are still the same age.
     That’s the amazing thing about following junior hockey for so many years. You get older, but the players on the bus all stay the same age.
     They’re forever young I guess. I am obviously not.
     So what it’s like on the road travelling with a bunch of junior hockey players, you may ask? Well, interesting, that’s for sure.
     The Oshawa Generals, by the way, are good kids. They really are. If they weren’t, I wouldn’t tell you because there is an old sports adage that is very true – “what is said on the bus, stays on the bus.� What that means is that everyone travelling with a sports team knows that a team bus (or dressing room) is a players and coaches domain – you don’t repeat anything that’s said there, even if you work in the media. If you want to travel with a team, you must abide by that rule.
     I’ve traveled with a few teams and with some players who weren’t good kids, the 1989 Marlboros among them. But honestly, there are no deep dark secrets to tell you about this group of Generals (although I wouldn’t tell you if there was); they are really good kids though. (If team chemistry means anything by the way, look for this team to do extremely well).
     Anyway, let me tell you a few things about what it’s like being on the road for three games in four nights in three different cities with the Oshawa Generals.
     The first thing you do is eat a lot. These are big, strapping young hockey players with games to play and they are hungry. I am a small, older newspaper/radio guy with no games to play. I am, however, usually hungry so that works out pretty well.
     There are team meals with huge portions served several times a day. Thanks to the generosity of the Generals, the radio crew gets to eat at these meals. The players need lots of protein and get to work off these meals by playing, so they are in great shape by the end of the trip. I do not require much protein and with my sedate life style, I’m so bloated I could serve as mascot for the Plymouth Whalers by the end of the trip.
     The players represent the city of Oshawa very well. They go into a restaurant, they walk into the arena and they even go to a ballgame (at Tiger Stadium on this trip), as a team. They are polite and fans and parents would be proud of the way they handle themselves. When I was their age my parents had already begun disowning me, but I was never good enough to play a sport and embarrass myself and my city in public, thank goodness.
     The team is on a schedule and a strict one at that. Everyone (radio crew included) is handed an itinerary at the start of the trip and they stick to it, no exceptions. Junior hockey time, by the way, is 15 minutes ahead of the actual time on any schedule. If the schedule says 10 a.m. for instance, that means be there by 9:45 a.m., just in case. And if you’re late? As coach John Goodwin says, players “should get themselves a good watch and they’ll save themselves a lot of money.� I once set a record for being late in high school, so I never would have survived in junior hockey. I’d be broke paying fines.
     The players are well looked after. Bryan Boyes is the best athletic therapist in junior hockey and coaches John Goodwin and Curtis Hodgins have been on enough buses as players themselves to know how to keep the team together. Gary Minacs travels along with the team and co-ordinates the trip and he’s one of the unsung heroes of the organization. Nice guys all of them – I would trust my kids with them in a minute.
     So, sorry to disappoint you, but there were no wild parties on this trip, no rowdy players, no scenes, no problems what so ever. It was a good trip by a first class organization. It was fun to be a part of it, even though I have nothing to do with the team.
     Some guy I met from Detroit doesn’t think so, however. I was waiting for an elevator in the hotel Saturday morning and wearing a track suit after going for a run to try and work off the 10 pounds of chicken I ate the night before. The guy sees me and says, “hey, you’re with the team, right? I’m from Detroit, I love junior hockey, you guys are great. Got a good team this year?�
     I looked around, made sure nobody from the team was around, and nodded. “Yeah,� I said. “From what I’ve seen on this trip, WE should be pretty good.�
     I shook his hand and walked away. Hey, I was in a hurry, I didn’t have time to explain.
     Besides, from what I saw on this trip, THEY should be pretty good.

HAPPY NEW YEAR, IT'S THE DAY AFTER LABOUR DAY
(Durham Post, Sept. 1 edition)

     Let’s see, today is Wednesday, Sept. 1, 1999. Just one more week until the new year.
     You can celebrate New Year’s Eve on Dec. 31, 1999 if you like, but as I’ve said for many years, the real start of the new year is the day after Labour Day.
     That’s the day our lives return to normal. It’s the day that we say goodbye to summer and send the kids packing to school again.
     The day after Labour Day. The real New Year’s Day. The calendar year may end on Dec. 31, but our “fiscal� year, if you like, ends on Labour Day.
     For many of us in Durham Region, the day after Labour Day marks the return of our “normal� lives. Vacation time ends. The kids go back to school.  Our lives fall into more of a routine.
     The day after Labour Day is the day that most school years start, of course, and that’s what makes this time of year the real “start� of the year for so many of us. A new school year. New books. New teachers. New classes. Everything new.
     I was never at any time in my life an enthusiastic student, but like most kids I found the first day of school exciting. That excitement I felt in early September as a kid still stays with me at this time of year. What I loved most about the start of a new school year was opening up a fresh new notebook and starting to write. I was never in love with being a student, but I’ve always been in love with writing, especially on a clean notepad.
     That first page…my God, would I make it nice and neat! I would start out printing the first words in any new notebook I used as neat and strong as I could. It wouldn’t take long for the rush of the new school year to wear off, of course, and that notebook would get awfully messy before too long! But for those first few days, it was fun starting off fresh.
     Starting off fresh. What a lovely phrase that is, and that’s probably why the day after Labour Day still remains such a significant day for many of us. We get a chance to start off fresh, with a new school year and a new attitude. A clean slate once again.
     Now it’s been many years since I last carried books to school on the day after Labour Day, but I still use this day (Sept. 7 this year), as I day that I decide to start off fresh, just like I did when I was a student.
     I carry a small notepad with me wherever I go. On that notepad I have written some personal and professional goals I have. I look at this notepad often to remind me what it is I’m striving for in life and what is really important to me.
     I break most of my goals down into timeframes, with the timeframe being either the calendar year or my birthday, so I can get a sense of how I’m doing. Every year on my birthday I set new annual goals and review my progress on my long-term goals.
     The day after Labor Day, however, I get a nice new notebook. I don’t revise any of my goals, but I re-write them in a fresh new notepad. Seeing these “old� ideas re-written on a nice clean page gives them new life for me – and I’m ready to start achieving those goals once again.
     Starting off fresh, that’s what I do the day after Labour Day every year. I suggest you do, too, along with all those kids that are fresh-faced and headed back to school on Sept. 7. Here’s a little friendly advice for you - kick back and enjoy the Labour Day weekend. Then the day after Labour Day, shake off that summer sluggishness you might have and remember back to when you looked forward to the first day of school.
     Go outside on Sept. 7 and take a look at the kids headed back to school, or if you have kids of your own, look at them. Fresh new books. Fresh new school year. Fresh new start.
     Then, realize what I have realized…you can make a fresh new start to your life anytime, but there’s no better time to do it than the day after Labour Day. Make some new goals for yourself and your family if you don’t have any. If you have some, get excited about them again. Pretend you’re headed back to school after the long summer break, full of optimism about what lies ahead in your fresh new year.
     We all have a new notebook to start writing in after the long summer if we want to use it. The air is crisp and fresh. Get charged up again! And if you have trouble, just watch some kids headed back to school and realize it’s a brand new, fresh start to the school year. It can be a brand new fresh start to your life as well. Really, it can.
     And there’s no better time to get recharged and excited about life again  then the day after Labour Day.
     Happy New Year!

 END OF AN ERA AS LAWN CUTTING ENDS FOR ME
(Durham Post, May 14 edition)

    It's an annual tradition in my household - the ceremonial first cutting of the lawn.
    Every spring, I go through the same routine as I get my lawn ready for another season of cutting and watering (well cutting, anyway. I rarely have the time or energy to actually water my lawn, unless it's turning completely brown, of course).
    The 1999 ceremonial cutting of the lawn was a bittersweet one for me. It marks the final time in my life that I will partake of this particular ritual.
    It's over for me.
    It's all over.
    And even though the first cut of the year usually causes me a great deal of grief, I guess I'll miss the annual spring tradition in a way, since I will never do it again.
    This year's ceremonial first cutting of the lawn went exactly according to plan, which is the way a finale should be.
    It was just the same as it always was, this 1999 first cut of the season.
    It was pure hell.
    I always wait too long to make my first cut and I waited too long again this year.
    I cut my lawn for the first time a few days ago - and even though it's been a very dry spring, the grass in my backyard was long. Oh boy, was it long.
    So off I go and, true to form, the annual first cut went as it always does, to a tee.
    I yanked the lawnmower out of the garage and pulled the cord. It didn't start - no gas in the tank. No surprise, since it ran out of gas the last time I cut the grass - in September.
    Drove to the gas station and filled container with gas. Spilled a little in the front seat on the drive back, so the car stinks of gas for about two weeks or so.
    As always.
    Filled the mower with gas and pulled the cord.
    It didn't start.
    First "string of profanity" of the grass cutting season followed, as always.
    Turned mower upside down, as if that's going to do anything. Looked at it.
    Having no technical instincts whatsoever, I stand there like an idiot for about three minutes. Turn it back right side up.
    It starts - about 100 priming attempts and 40 pulls of the cord later. As always.
    Off I go to cut grass. Front part is pretty easy so I get over-confident, heading to the backyard without bothering to turn off the mower. Nearly amputate right foot trying to get backyard fence open, which is tough because I haven't touched the lock since September.
    Second "string of profanity" of the grass cutting season followed. As always.
    Start cutting back grass, which is so long I could rent out the backyard to a movie company looking for a realistic African jungle setting in Courtice.
    Mower stalls about a dozen times, forcing me to constantly "lift" before cutting (other veteran procrastinator grass cutters know exactly what I mean by this). Third "string of profanity" follows. As always.
    Get about 80 percent of the job done and mower stalls again, this time refusing to re-start.
    I stand in the middle of my backyard with grass shavings all around me (bag on mower is broken off) and use language that would embarrass a drunken sailor on shore leave.
    Little drops of rain start to fall, putting the pressure on. I again turn mower upside down (as if that is going to accomplish anything), and after another priming and pulling frenzy, it starts. As always.
    Last few minutes of lawn cutting are done in the rain. As always. But finally it's done, and I raise my hand to the rainy skies in triumph.
    I take the mower back to garage. Go inside the house and forget to take off my shoes, heading straight for the kitchen for a badly needed drink.
    As I chug on a juice, I look down at my new running shoes, covered in green stains. Floor around me is also covered in green stains, as are my pants. As always.
    My nice golf shirt is horribly stained, my good shoes are a mess and the nice clean floor is now filthy. I have again failed to change into my "grass cutting clothes" to start the season.
    Hell it was. Hell it always is.
    But, it's all over for me now. My ceremonial first cutting of the lawn days are behind me forever.
    Stepson Ryan will be 14 next spring. He will inherit this tradition from then on. The thought of his maturing enough to do this brings a tear of pride to my eye. And a tear of joy, too.
    No more grass cutting for me after this year. That's what not-so-little boys were made for, of course.
    I enjoy my juice with a smile, sweat and grass stains pouring from my every pore.
    My God, is life ever great when you have kids!

LET'S ALL BREATHE A LITTLE EASIER
(Durham Post, April 28 edition)

    "We're all on the road to cleaner air."
    At least, that's what the Ontario government is telling us as Ontario's Drive Clean programs kicks into gear.
    I am all for cleaner air, as anybody else who breathes for a living is. One look at the thick air I see when I drive down Bloor Street into Oshawa from Courtice in the summer (air thick enough to chew some mornings), is all I need to be convinced that a Drive Clean program is not only a good idea, but probably a necessary one.
    I have already learned first hand, however, that the Drive Clean program can be a pain in the butt unless you're prepared for it.
    Beginning this month, Drive Clean test and repair became mandatory for vehicle licence renewal and ownership transfer in Durham Region. Tests are now required for vehicles more than three, but less than 20 years old, every two years. Even year model cars (1990, 1992, etc.) are tested in 1999 and odd model cars get tested the next year, an even year.
    My Birthday was April 11. My car was made in 1996. My licence renewal date is of course my birthday; therefore I was one of the first drivers who HAD to get the Drive Clean test done in order to renew their licence.
    No big deal really. I have a relatively new car, it gets proper maintenance, I got my notice well before my birthday along with my licence renewal form - no sweat. I had plenty of time to get this minor inconvenience done.
    Like many of you I am a procrastinator, however. Perhaps next week I'll write a column about procrastination. Although probably not, because I will put it off for a few months. Or years.
    My procrastination in this instance resulted in me speeding towards the motor vehicle centre with no licence plates on my car as I tried to renew my sticker at the last minute. How is it possible, you might be wondering, for someone to find themselves in such a predicament? Let me enlighten you.
    My renewal form comes in the mail in February, a full TWO MONTHS before the date (it's your birthday date you know, NOT the last day of the month of your birthday, when you have to renew by). It contains Drive Clean literature, which I don't bother to read. At about the same time, my front licence plate fell off somewhere and is lost. It had been hanging precariously for several months before that, but I never got around to...oh never mind.
    Before you know it, it's April 8 (severe procrastinators have the ability to make two months virtually disappear).
    I finally look at the form and realize I have two days to get my new licence sticker (April 11 is a Sunday and they're not open on weekends). I figure I'll kill two birds with one stone and get the new plate at the same time.
    No sir. No Drive Clean test, the lady tells me at the motor vehicle office, no new sticker. Starting in April, 1999, you HAVE to have the test done in order to get your sticker. I try four different locations for a last minute appointment - no luck. Three are too busy, one is having problems with their test machine. Try tomorrow, they all say.
    Friday, April 9 - the last day for me. Okay, off I go and this time get the test done. My car passes with flying colors and back to the motor vehicle office I go.
    I show my test result, she prepares the paperwork - and tells me to bring in the old remaining licence plate so she can issue me new ones.
    One problem. I can't get the back plate off my car. Drive next door to the lube place and they can't, either. Finally drive to another auto service centre and after yanking at it for awhile, a very helpful gentleman gets the plate off for me.
    Yikes, it's getting late! Motor vehicle centre closes in half an hour. Better hurry. One problem - no I have no plates on my car! Shove the one I just removed in the front window and rush off to motor vehicle centre yet again.
    You can imagine what a story the cop who might have pulled me over would have got - guy speeding in red sports car with no plates. Fortunately, I don't get stopped and I arrive 10 minutes prior to closing and get it done. Lesson learned. Now, for the rest of you out there (and only four percent of drivers have had the test done to date, so that's a lot of you):
    Book a time and get your test done. It costs $30 and you might not pass; if you don't, you'll need to budget some time and money for the needed repairs.
    Centres are getting swamped, especially at the end of the month, so don't delay. Do it well before the time of your licence renewal.
    Yes, a Drive Clean test every two years is another pain in our lives, but it's a necessary one.
    And with a little advance planning, it needn't be a major pain.
    For more information call 1-888-758-2999. Tell them the guy in the red car with no plates sent you.