Fredders

I learned of the passing of a little old friend of mine this week - apparently of a massive heart attack. I first met Fred about three years ago when I began delivering Meals on Wheels to his apartment just outside of Fredericton. To be honest, he was not the most pleasant soul but Elaine, the lady who shared his apartment with him more than made up for it.

Truth be told - Fred, or "Fredders" as she liked to call him, could be down right belligerent and cantankerous at times.  But she saw only the good in him - always telling me what a good singer and dancer he used to be in his youth. I always chatted with Elaine while Fred either ignored me or glanced suspiciously at me over his shoulder. Nevertheless, she always insisted that he thought the world of me. He would wait for my arrival every week and began to get agitated if I was late.

Elaine is not in the best of health herself but she worried constantly over Fred's every little complaint and gave him the best of care. She kept him warm and always made sure he didn't get caught in a draft as he was quite frail. Between the two of them they smoked a pack a day until Elaine decided to quit for the good of their health. I guess that is why I was so shocked when I learned of his sudden passing.

Fredders may be gone but I am sure I will continue to listen to Elaine's stories about his many virtues and talents. He could whistle and sing! He could dance! And he was pretty! Sometimes he would even fly about the room and perch on her shoulder. That's right - and if you haven't figured out yet that Fredders was a bird those last few sentences must have surprised you. Fredders was a cockatiel - and he belonged to a Meals on Wheels client of mine. He was quite old for a cockatiel, almost 30 - the average lifespan being 15 years. So he had a nice long life.

He was a great companion for Elaine and I am not mocking them in any way. I had always meant to bring him a special treat along with her meal and now it is too late. But wait - there may be a chance to make amends. It turns out that Fredders had not made any prior arrangements for his untimely demise and since Elaine is a shut-in, I have been asked if I would be willing to give him a proper burial. I said that it would be my pleasure and I have reserved a spot for him in my back yard - funeral arrangements are pending.

So what more can I say except Rest in Peace Fredders - you were indeed a pretty bird!

Priceless

As the summer draws to an end I often find that nostalgia sets in and I am reminded of those long ago days when "back to school" still meant something. We had great summers back in the sixties and it sure was sad to see them end. But at that time of year there was also a sense of adventure and rebirth  - an opportunity to show the world who you could be. Or in this particular case - show the world who three people could be.

I hung out in those days with my lifelong pals Dan and Rick. All summer long we listened to rock and roll and dreamed of being in a "group" - meaning of course, a rock band. One of us even made it into an actual group and the other two were content to play the role of being "with the band". You would be surprised how easy it was to get into a dance in those days by just carrying a drum or an amp in through the door. Worked every time...

But the summer of '67 was special as anyone who was there will recall. Movies have been made about it and songs have been written and now my story must be told.  I think the three of us knew we were never actually going to be in a group together but that didn't stop the dream. If we couldn't actually be in a group we could look like one couldn't we? So the week before school off we went to downtown Fredericton to make the dream a reality - sort of.

First stop of course was Herbie's Music Store to browse the racks of new records and see what the latest fads were. Then off to Levine's Department Store where the matronly salesclerk must have been thrilled as she outfitted us in three handsome beige corduroy blazers. Next stop I believe was Zeller's where we found three bright red shirts and three pairs of sharply creased black slacks. But our outfits were not finished yet - something was missing... something that would make our look complete. But what? Off we went to the somewhat pricier downtown trendy men's stores in search of the elusive item that would make three mere individuals into that magical unit - the group.

Our budget was running low. Remember, we did this all on our own with nothing but lawn mowing and paper route money and maybe a few "Back to School" dollars from our parents. Luckily we already had three pairs of matching footwear or "desert boots" as they were called in those days.

So after checking out Capital Men's and Boy's and The Royal Stores we were starting to despair that our look would never be complete. Then in utter resignation we wandered into that last haven of desperate downtown shoppers - Chippin's Clothing Store. As we listlessly browsed through the aisles of rubber boots, belts and suspenders we knew we had hit rock bottom when we suddenly saw them... the fashion item that would set us apart from the crowd - forever.

We knew we had found our look! The cigar smoking salesman behind the counter agreed with us and assured us they were made of the finest polyester blend available and they just happened to be on sale. And size was no problem as they came in only one size. Imagine our joy as we headed home assured that come Monday morning and the first day of school - heads would turn.

And turn they did. All four hundred of them it seemed. What a sight we must have been strolling onto the school ground... who could these sharply dressed strangers be? Why with hair combed down over our foreheads in fashionable bangs and all dressed alike in shades of black, red and beige we could have been anybody or even somebody - we could have been a "group"!

And for that brief moment in time we were a group - we were "The Dickies". What better name for three teenagers wearing black turtleneck dickies to the first day of school on a warm September morning? A few of the more gullible younger students even approached us to ask if we were indeed forming a group. We played it cool and basically said no comment...

So that is the story of the dickies. We never did get around to actually forming a group with actual instruments but we had our 15 minutes of fame as they say. Thank God there were no smart phones or digital cameras in those days - or maybe I am wrong about that. On second thought I would love to see a picture of those three would be rock stars on that bright September morning. Or better yet, I would love to see the looks on those 400 faces as the Dickies walked fearlessly up that hill... that would be as they say - priceless.

Cornhill

Imagine an oasis in the middle of the fields and forests of rural New Brunswick and that is an apt description of Cornhill Nursery just outside of Petticoadiac - our destination this past week for a well deserved getaway from the every day routine. It was a warm day but as I sat down in a cool secluded spot I knew we had made the right choice for a pleasant day trip. I was a little tired after the long drive but the friendly yet somehow familiar surroundings immediately put me at ease and I felt right at home.

As I took my comfort in the quiet solitude I couldn't help but admire the tasteful artwork of various local artisans. The walls were decorated with beautiful paintings and creative wall hangings crafted from what appeared to be indigenous materials. Light filtered down from the skylight above and augmented the pleasing architecture all around me. A soft summer breeze drifted by as I was lulled by the sound of nearby running water...

I could actually feel the pressures of the day drain away as I started to drift into a state of complete relaxation. The smell of the fresh cut flowers made me want to linger but there was so much to see and do. In my reverie I could hear what sounded like the droning of bees... or was it the ceiling fan? I heard the distant rap-rap-rapping of what sounded like a woodpecker... but no - it was more like someone knocking. "Be right out!" I quickly replied as the spell was broken.

I quickly flushed and splashed some cool water on my face as I took one more wistful look around. If the rest of Cornhill Nursery proved to be as pleasant and welcoming as their bathroom (and it did) I knew that I was in for a treat. I recommend this trip to anyone who like me, has an appreciation for the finer things in life.