ImPort Stanley is weekly series about life and discoveries by a recent “import” to Port Stanley, ON. Access previous posts on everything from shopping to hotels and our beaches by clicking the tag ImPort Stanley.
Update: Although this post reflects a moment in time, I feel it’s important to update my thoughts on the Depp/Heard case. I ought to have mentioned that I feel conflicted about my reaction to the testimony. I believe in believing women who allege abuse. Heard’s unlikability, desperation (as heard in recordings) to stay married to Depp, and many other factors have contributed to my perception. Her knowledge of what a Bruise Kit is, although she used the term incorrectly, is also a part of it. But I remain open to the possibility that I am wrong. The jury will ultimately decide.
Today, you have a choice! You can read the blog post below, or listen to it by clicking on this audio link. I would also love your feedback on whether you like the audio option. Thanks.
ImPort Stanley is weekly series about life and discoveries by a recent “import” to Port Stanley, ON.
Every time I’ve gone to see a small-town theatre production, it was worth it. Port Stanley’s Festival Theatre included. It’s been many years since I’ve seen a show there. The last time, I drove from my home in Toronto. Now that we live here, it’s time to rediscover this gem of an attraction.
Call it what you wish: divine intervention, coincidence, or dumb luck. But yesterday, as I was trying to hone in on what’s been bugging me, I opened Facebook and saw this.
I was looking for some info about my first book, Celebrity Tantrums, and hit up Google. The book was published in 2003 so some of the details are fuzzy in my memory. Google never forgets. One link seemed a little strange so I investigated further and that’s how I found out about a mistake I’d made in the manuscript.
Somehow I let my email inbox accumulate more than 10,000 emails. Finally, a couple of weeks ago, I decided to spend a few minutes every day clearing them out.
There came a time during the height of the pandemic that I wanted to do more. Not more work, just something for my soul. So, I pointed my browser to Charity Village and scrolled through the Volunteer Positions. I landed on an organization I’d never heard of: Student Links.
People often ask me why I’m no longer on the radio and whether I miss it. Radio and I had a long love affair. I loved it and it mostly loved me back. After a long career for which I’m eternally grateful, I grew frustrated with corporate owners who didn’t care about radio. When these giant companies swallowed up smaller players, the CRTC forced them to take radio stations even though all they wanted was TV. TV – specifically flagship TV stations in Toronto – is the favourite child. Radio is an afterthought. No, I don’t miss it. I miss the people, not the culture or the work.
It was Thanksgiving weekend in Canada. You may have had the day off. If you freelance like me, you kept your eye on the ball. Most of my clients didn’t have a long weekend.
I do love a good meme. Starting the day with a positive bit of prose or a good laugh goes well with coffee. Universal truths somehow seem to resonate when they’re put into fancy script with a pretty background. But every once in a while, the meme maker gets it horribly wrong.
The beginning of a new school year always makes me think of warm clothes like long sweaters and stiff cords. I remember an ugly belted sweater I wore until it practically disintegrated. And the sound of corduroys brushing against themselves as I walked quickly down the hallway at South Lincoln High School. You wanted to move fast because the Hare brothers, Craig Nelson and Jerald Collens were standing at the end of the hall. With folded arms they silently judged the girls rounding the corner to history class or the gym. You had to pass by, there was no way around it.
All through the voice-over trade, worries are bubbling like simmering soup that artificial intelligence will replace human voices. Some in the voice-over game full-time are wringing their hands that work will dry up, AI will take over and the voice will become obsolete. I’m in the VO game full-time and I’m not worried. With a caveat.
After Better Call Saul and Breaking Bad star Bob Odenkirk collapsed on set and was rushed to a hospital, the silence was deafening. As a small-j journalist, my spidey senses tingled and I anticipated bad news. Family gathered around his bedside. Maybe an aneurysm or so-called Widow Maker – a massive heart attack. It pleased me to be wrong.
London is the largest city in Ontario without a green bin program. “It’s coming later this year”, they say. Forgive my uncharacteristic cynicism but I’ll believe it when I see it!
It’s tonight – Make the Media Want You – a live-streamed panel discussion leading up to the Forest City London Music Awards. This session is part of a series, hosted by yours truly via Zoom. It’s free, it’s Wednesday from 7-8 pm and it’s going to be fun and informative, or your money cheerfully refunded!
I scroll Twitter and see the millionth tweet from someone who drove past somewhere and saw that people weren’t masked. My blood pressure rises. How can some people STILL not get that this virus is killing people indiscriminately? It’s insane. I shake my head. That moment of GAH! on social media can be the one thing that keeps a person’s head from exploding. But for me, it might be the final thing that makes my head pop off its mooring.