4 10 2016 may 12 web v2 by City Media

arts – news – attitude

12 – 25 may 2016

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hermaneutics

The Civic Blessing and Inspiration of Ting by Herman Goodden

orty one years ago next month Merle Tingley (aka Ting), resident cartoonist at The London Free Press from 1947 to 1986, whipped off our cover image for this issue, proving that London’s still unquenched desire for high speed rail service linking us to Toronto and Montreal is at least as longstanding as

www.londonyodeller.ca Publisher Bruce Monck bruce@londonyodeller.ca Editor Herman Goodden editor@londonyodeller.ca Layout Kirtley Jarvis EVENTS Alysha Monck info@londonyodeller.ca Contributors Paula Adamick / Ciara Allen Susan Cassan / Dave Clarke Nida Home Doherty / Adam Corrigan Holowitz Andrew Lawton / Bob McKenzie Menno Meijer / Robert Pegg / Jason Rip Jeffrey Schiller / Renée Silberman Carling Spinney / Sean Twist David Warren / Barry Wells Advertising & Marketing

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MERLE TINGLEY HIGH-speed rail service coming ... but not today! [June 18, 1975] Merle Tingley Collection, Western Archives, Western University On view at The ARTS Project

Ting Comic and Graphic Arts Festival April 26 — May 21, 2016 www.artsproject.ca arts – news – attitude

12 – 25 may 2016

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our similarly fruitless quest for a proper performing arts centre. (Elsewhere in this issue, Barry Wells examines why this high speed dream is likely to remain unanswered for many more years to come.) Our simultaneously nostalgic and prophetic cover image (and several other panels by the now 95 year-old Ting) are featured, along with the work of a dozen other considerably younger artists, at the Third Annual Ting Comic & Graphic Arts Festival on at the Arts Project until May 21. Ting is the perfect namesake for such a festival because (as I discovered when writing extensive biographical sketches of the18 visual artists involved in 2007’s The River Project) he inspired two or three generations of London artists who pored over his cartoons in the daily paper when they were kids. Whether they aspired to be cartoonists, painters or sculptors scarcely mattered. Here was this very public example of a crackerjack draughtsman with a unique way of looking at things, coming up with some sort of pictorial commentary on their world nearly every day of the week. That he ever turned up in London at all was a bit of a fluke as I discovered when interviewing him for Ontario Living magazine in 1988. An out of work veteran who had spent most of the Second World War drawing cartoons for various army publications, Ting drove his motorbike from his hometown of Montreal out to Victoria and most of the way back in his search for a Canadian newspaper in need of a cartoonist. His son Cam told me just last week that, “One night out on the prairies he asked a farmer if he could sleep in his barn and the farmer agreed. So my dad wheeled his motorcycle into the barn and fell asleep on some hay bales, and when he woke up in the morning the cow had completely eaten his handle grips.” In the fall of 1947 Ting pulled into London to try his luck at the Free Press. By then he was so discouraged and broke that he was considering taking on a job selling men’s clothing. “They’d never had a cartoonist of their own,” Ting told me. “They weren’t quite sure what cartoonists did or how they could use one.” He was put to work touching up photographs in a corner of the basement of the old Free Press building on Richmond Street. He accepted the post as his foot in the door but barely a month after his arrival they ran his first cartoon

on the front page – a coronation picture of George VIII. The George depicted in this instance was the ever-feisty George Wenige, just elected to his eighth term as Mayor of London. Ting had wormed his way into the job he wanted and was soon cranking out six

Photo courtesy Merle Tingley

Merle Tingley with unidentified motorcycle fan in Banff during his 1947 cross-Canada trek in search of work as a cartoonist.

editorial cartoons a week. “That’s a lot of cartoons over 40 years,” he said, looking slightly incredulous as I performed some elementary mathematics and deduced that he’d produced a minimum of 12,480 panels. “Sometimes I look at old cartoons and I can’t even remember drawing them,” he said. “Or even worse, I’m not quite sure I understand them. They must refer to something that was going on at the time. I can’t think I just made that stuff up off the top of my head.” Ting’s trademark, Luke Worm, was a nameless little squib in a top hat until a Free Press contest in 1951 to name the worm elicited more than 7,000 entries from their readership. The worm itself was born in the late 1930s when Ting, fresh out of high school, landed a job with a Montreal drafting office. “It was an incredibly hot day and I was working away on this cross section of a building and I was just bored silly – all those

straight lines and all that precision. Then I got to work on the ground line and that was such a relief because it wasn’t straight. I got a little carried away and drew this worm poking up out of the ground. I got called away on some errand before I had time to erase it. The drawing got blueprinted, worm and all, and I got sacked. My first job, and I was out the door but I wasn’t sorry. From that day I’ve put a worm in every drawing.” Ting’s gawky little worm, hidden somewhere in the lines of every picture (decades before Where’s Waldo?), throwing off its symmetry and sabotaging the seriousness of public affairs, was emblematic of Ting himself. “I knew I didn’t belong anyplace that couldn’t make room for that worm.” Other than decades’ worth of cartooning, one of Ting’s more enduring gifts to London was the charitable work he performed for Storybook Gardens which first opened its drawbridge in 1958. Ting offered them his services and ended up designing nearly 50 booths, exhibits and displays – all of it for free. “I haven’t taken a penny for any of the design work. I even handed over the rights to the Storybook colouring book. That’s been my community service.” In the home stretch of our talk, I asked him to reflect on the art of cartooning. He told me that the cartoons that took the most work were almost invariably the weakest; that his best work just happened. One of his most popular was a panel he worked up upon learning that Lester Pearson – the Prime Minister who had overseen the creation of the red and white national flag – had died. “I didn’t even know what I was trying to do,” he recalled. “I drew the peace tower with a flag at half mast, a solid red bar to either side. And right there where the maple leaf ought to go . . . put a bow tie instead. That one just fell into my lap. “There are so many artists I admire, who can draw circles around me, but they can’t do what I do. I’ve held down this job for 40 years and I’ve always been afraid that someone better is going to come along and I’ll be buried in the art department doing lingerie ads or something. What really distinguishes a cartoonist isn’t his skill as an artist – it’s his ideas, an inventive twist, the ability to see things in an arresting way. And that’s not a skill; that’s a gift.”

02 HERMANEUTICS

Herman Goodden — A celebration of London’s cartoonist, Merle Tingley

LAYING DOWN THE LAWTON Andrew Lawton — The witless disgrace of Canada’s Human Rights Commissions in all their odiousness

YODELLING IN THE CANYON Barry Wells — High speed rail coming to London? Don’t hold your breath

1,000 WORDS OR LESS Bob McKenzie — General Dynamics in London is condemned for crimes that its customers might (or probably won’t) commit

ESSAYS IN IDLENESS David Warren — The epigrammatic genius of G.K. Chesterton still devastates in 103 year old literary study TIPS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE Susan Cassan — Emily Post returns from the great beyond to pronouce on the etiquette of hook-ups and S&M

DAPPLED THINGS Paula Adamick — Germaine Greer gets eaten by fellow lefties for running afoul of the LGBT brain police

THEN PLAY ON Dave Clarke — Around Town: Selena Gomez at the Bud / Mondo Phono: Rock n’ Roll in the service of Satan / Lost Classic: Blue Shadows’ On The Floor of Heaven / Shortlisted: Five fifth Beatles

SOUND SURVEY

SATURDAY NIGHT HOP Herman Goodden — The Tall One returns to host the Saturday Night Hop — celebrating the music of the British Invasion

Renée Silberman — Paul Merritt turns his attention daily to music that speaks without affectation of matters of heart and soul FOREST CITY FOLK Menno Meijer— At the Artisan Bakery there’s nothing ‘everyday’ about your daily bread UNCLE BRUCE Advice Column — Eighteen months paid maternity leave? Hell, why not shoot for eighteen years?

PEGG’S WORLD Bob Pegg — Saul Goodman offers sage tips for keeping out of jail — provided you lawyer up DISPATCHES FROM DYSTOPIA Ciara Allen — Our resident, stressed-out millennial takes a sentimental journey through the mean streets of London

GALLERY REVIEW Carling Spinney — Jen Aitken and Aryen Hoekstra at the Forest City Gallery create an industrial aesthetic in their imagined city LOOK AT THIS Nida Home Doherty — Brace yourself for an out-of-body experience at the Gary Spearin exhibition in Sarnia

28 RIPLASH

BRING YOUR APPETITE FOR GREAT MUSIC & GREAT PIE

PURSUIT OF HAPPINESS Jeffrey Schiller — We’re off to sample the finest East Coast cuisine — It seemed like a good idea after three bottles of wine

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EVENTS LISTINGS

SATURDAYS 9-12PM

Jason Rip — So if he did do the sensible thing and leave London, here’s what he’d miss

THEATRE SPACE Adam Corrigan Holowitz — A review of the latest live edition of The Kangaroo Variety

MUSICAL CHAIRS

SOUNDS RAZOR Sean Twist — Running and tweeting with the wolves of Chernobyl

625 DUNDAS * JUST EAST OF ADELAIDE

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e d i t o r @ l o ndo n y o del le r. c a

IS IT TOO MUCH TO ASK THAT ATROCITIES BE DENOUNCED?

VERY TASTY REVIEWS, MR. SCHILLER [Re: The Pursuit of Happiness, Jeffrey Schiller] I have been

enjoying Jeffrey Schiller’s restaurant reviews and look forward to reading them. His style of writing almost makes you feel part of the dining experience. Restaurants depend on word of mouth as well as advertising. Jeff gives honest and fair reviews.

— Mark Gilliam

MISTAKING A MASHUP FOR AN ORGY [Re: Yodeller Columnists Perched on the Edge of Fame and Fortune in Gruesome Mashup!!!, Sounds Dystopic, April 28, Sean Twist and Ciara Allen] Needs a little work.

Take it out to the Casablanca Motel, Room 19. The cameras are set up and ready to roll. Bring your own Whipped Body Butter from Purdy Natural.

— Curlyboystubbs

ON BOARD WITH JERICHO PROJECT [Re: Urgent Repairs at St. Paul’s Cathedral, Yodelling in the Canyon, April 14, Barry Wells] A

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word of thanks to Barry Wells for his updated report concerning the ongoing and urgent repairs at St. Paul’s Cathedral. His noted concern for the four irreplaceable and priceless Tiffany Studios stained glass windows in memoriam of London’s Meredith Family proves the obvious need for careful and methodical preservation steps while working amongst these fragile visual treasures. These windows and many others were photo-

[Re: Canadian Security Asleep at the Wheel and Je Suis Tired of This, Mar. 17 and 31, Laying Down the Lawton, Andrew Lawton] Andrew Lawton’s

graphically documented by a team of researchers led by Walter Eldridge in 1975. Their spectacular finished book, Stained Glass in London, is available for viewing in the library’s London Room. Definitely worth anyone’s investment in time. Count me in for a donation and hoping for a successful conclusion to the church’s JERICHO PROJECT.

— Al Merkley

THANKFUL FOR THE ASSISTANCE OF LITIGATION [Re: So What Ever Happened to Bad Luck? Hermaneutics, April 14, Herman Goodden] When

the negligent party is the City of London, leaving a piece of metal protruding from the wall of a railway underpass (roadway), the purpose of litigation would be to make the injured party whole again as much as possible so they can continue to live a joyful and unfettered life. Some people suffer serious injuries through no fault of their own and have themselves and their families to support during their lengthy period of recovery. Such litigation is entirely reasonable and an available remedy to right a civil wrong. That’s precisely why the civil courts (thankfully) exist. — Butch McLarty

articles presented a lot of noteworthy information that got me to thinking about broadcasts on 980AM with Craig Needles on March 28th and 29th. Lawton reported that the director of CSIS declared that they were aware of 180 Canadians who were overseas fighting with terrorists and that another 100 had arrived in the same vicinity, 60 have returned to Canada and 90 are attempting to join ISIS. In addition, Lawton reminds us that Trudeau doesn’t believe that we are at war with Daesh, the self-proclaimed Islamic State, even though we have had the Toronto stabber, the Parliament Hill shooter, the Toronto 18 and several radicalized Canadians. Lawton also mentions the slew of apologists in our midst and reminds us that it is rightfully expected for the Muslim community to condemn acts of terror done in the name of Allah. This brought back, for me, the broadcast by Craig Needles on March 28th, following the bombings in Brussels and the Easter Sunday massacre in Pakistan, when Needles expressed how sad it was that people expect the Muslim community to denounce Islamic acts of terrorism. On March 29, Needles extended this sentiment by not

challenging one word of a local Imam he had invited onto the show, who although he denounced the massacre in Brussels, tried to make excuses for terrorists. Needles repeated, ‘The fact that they (the Muslims) have to issue this type of release saddens me, really saddens me’. Needles’ sadness doesn’t compare to the sadness of the families who had their loved ones murdered. There are 1.6 billion Muslims worldwide and if only a small percentage believe in Sharia Law – even 3% – that’s a lot of people. Many Muslims still believe that you should be executed if you

leave the faith. When people like Needles give these radical views a platform without challenging them, it is shameful, especially when we have had at least three Londoners radicalized and we know that a radical Imam from London, recently gave a ‘call to arms’ at McMaster University. People understand that the majority of Muslims are respectful of other religions and are peaceful but it was clearly demonstrated by the Imam (and Needles capitulation) that making excuses for barbaric behaviour is acceptable.

Even though acts of terrorism are happening worldwide by extremist Muslims, the Imam even went so far, with the clear blessing of Needles, as to say that denouncement is never required of the Christian community. He was right about that because Christians are not waging jihad around the globe. The Imam said that the terrorists were recruited because they don’t know better. Does this Imam really believe that those who commit these atrocities, don’t know it isn’t right to rape women and children and kill innocent people? Again, not challenged by Needles. Then the Imam said that 90% of suicide bombing is politically motivated, not religiously motivated – how would he know that and where did he get this number? Again, not challenged by Needles. If these attacks, worldwide, have nothing to do with religion then why do these brainwashed murderers shout praises to Allah while doing their dirty deeds and implement Sharia Law wherever they go? Instead of Needles oozing sympathy for the Muslim community and making inflammatory statements, he should consider being more measured in his response to the next attack. Perhaps he should be concerned as to who is financing the terrorists and why so many Muslims support what the radicals are doing. Thanks to Lawton for reminding us of a few facts.

— Sandra Barker

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CN, politics and cost make high-speed rail in SW Ontario unlikely by Barry Wells

ince the mid-1960s, there’s been scores of studies, plans and reports regarding the feasibility of high-speed passenger rail (HSR) along The Great White North’s most densely populated Windsor-to-Quebec City rail corridor, or parts thereof. The closest Canada’s come to permanent HSR service, however, is the promising but ultimately ill-fated “TurboTrain” which debuted in 1968 to serve CN Rail passengers between Toronto and Montreal, making Canada a global leader in HSR at the time. Forty-eight years later, Canada is the only Group of Seven country (G7: Canada, France, Germany, Italy, Japan, the UK and the US) without HSR, showing

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how far the country has slipped since the heady can-do days of its centennial celebrations in 1967. Designed by Sikorsky Aircraft, a subsidiary of United Aircraft, and built by Montreal Locomotive Works (five trains were put in service), Canada’s $2M gas-turbine-powered TurboTrain left Toronto’s Union Station eastbound for Montreal during its inaugural run on Dec. 10, 1968, loaded with journalists and dignitaries. At a level crossing near Kingston, Turbo sliced an empty meat van in half like a hot knife through butter, suffering only a few minor dents (no passenger injuries), impressing everyone on board with its stability and sturdiness. Despite initial problems with its brakes seizing in winter, a train fire in 1970 and other technical glitches with its tilting suspension, Turbo — capable of speeds up to 226 km/h on Canadian track — provided reliable HSR service from 1968 to 1971 and after a few improvements, from 1973 to 1982, when Turbo’s HSR service was abandoned in favour of more conventional, diesel-powered LRCs (“light, rapid, comfortable” passenger trains). Thwarting Turbo’s highspeed capabilities were the thousand level crossings between Toronto and Montreal, the requirement to yield the right-of-way to more profitable freight trains — a problem persisting to the present day — and the creation of VIA Rail in 1978, while CN retained control of the tracks through the Canada Transportation Act and an order-in-council. With no dedicated track for passenger rail service, HSR and VIA Rail are under the thumb of CN’s freight-orientated business model.

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Thwarting Turbo’s high-speed capabilities were the thousand level crossings between Toronto and Montreal LIBERALS With free-spending Liberal governments in both Ottawa and Toronto for the first time since rapid rail’s inception, HSR advocate Paul Langan, founder of High Speed Rail Canada in 2008, is “cautiously optimistic highspeed passenger rail renewal is on the horizon.” HSR’s been back on the front burner in Ontario since April 15, 2014 when Glen Murray, then Ontario’s Minister of Transportation, announced HSR would be a reality in the province within 10 years at an estimated cost of between $10B and $22B. On December 15, 2014, an environmental assessment was approved for the Windsor to London to Kitchener-Waterloo to Toronto corridor. On October 30, 2015, former federal (Liberal) transport minister and passenger rail supporter David Collenette was appointed Ontario’s special advisor for HSR for Windsor to Toronto “to identify economic development opportunities associated with high-speed trains, assess international experience with high-speed rail and provide advice on a preliminary business case and potential financing models.” With Ontario’s debt at an all-time high of $310B and Premier Wynne’s floundering Liberal (majority) government unlikely to be re-elected in 2018, however, the prospects of Collenette’s report recommendations ever being implement-

ed in southwestern Ontario are slim to none and Slim’s already left town. But the real multi-billion-dollar question is, how necessary is HSR for Ontario’s future economic development? Two community activists I contacted not knowing their thoughts about HSR beforehand, are unconcerned with the prospects of no HSR for southwestern Ontario:

Sean Hurley, computer systems administrator, McMaster University, Hamilton — “The [proposed] Windsor to Toronto [HSR] project is at 160 km/h. This is at the low end of high-speed rail. It barely qualifies. High-speed rail has somehow become the darling of governments and I’m not sure how or why. There is also the question of who it will serve. In Ontario, the market appears aimed at business travellers, a group with many travel options. The money would be better used improving regional commuter rail transit, giving people more options for getting into work. For example, more dedicated tracks reaching more communities using GO Transit would be a better investment.” Stephen Harding, London photohistorian and rail aficionado — “High-speed rail is one of those seemingly futuristic ventures that is already obsolete. The Internet, Skype and other emerging technologies answer

the need for speed. Investment in VIA Rail would meet the remainder of our transportation needs at a fraction of the cost. It’s time to let go of the magic beanstalk and get our heads out of the [HSR] clouds.”

TAXI SALE? A reliable source has informed yours truly a sale or merger is in the works between two-year-old London Green Taxi (23 cabs) and Jamie Donnelly’s Blue & White Taxis (73 cabs) for a new enlarged fleet of 96 cabs. Huruy Woldemicael, GM of London Green Taxi, did not respond to

repeated telephone and e-mail requests for comment. London Yellow Taxi is London’s largest fleet with 129 cabs; U-Need-A Cab’s not far behind with 124 taxis. There are 364 cab plates in total, including 18 wheelchairaccessible taxis. According to Catherine DeForest, Manager, Business Services at city hall, some plates are temporarily inactive due to an accident or vehicle replacement.

laying down t h e l a wt on

Our Human Rights Commissions Debase Human Dignity and Freedoms by Andrew Lawton

illions of dollars and an unending amount of political capital have been spent on preserving and protecting “human rights,” but what has been lost in that has been a cohesive definition of what a human right truly is. In the dictionary, the term is defined as a “right that is believed to belong justifiably to every person.” Things like life, liberty, freedom of speech, security, and democratic engagement are invariably included in most people’s minds as fundamental rights, but Canada’s quasi-judicial human rights commissioners and tribunals have presented a slew of other far more unorthodox ‘rights.’ In April, the Human Rights Tribunal of Ontario ruled in favour of an Oakville, Ont. obsessive-compulsive germaphobe, who was awarded $12,000 for not being accommodated by a restaurant. The restaurant, a Baton Rouge steakhouse franchise, was found to have discriminated against the man, whose name has not been published, based on his disability. The restaurant’s offense, if we can call its non-compliance with his demands such a thing, was, in part, putting lemon in the man’s water. Admittedly, wars have been fought over less, but it was the proverbial straw that broke the germaphobe’s back. He and his wife were regulars at the restaurant, appreciative of management’s willingness to go above and beyond to accommodate his eccentricities: they would wipe down furniture in front of him, carry everything to him held with a napkin rather than bare hands, and bring water without a straw or lemon wedge. After ownership of the restaurant changed hands, there was, for some reason, less of a desire to accommodate. Perhaps it’s bad customer service, but it’s a restaurateur’s right to decide how far he or she is willing to go for one customer and his wife. In December of 2013, after the man complained about slow food delivery,

The world is rife with genuine human rights violations but where, on the hierarchy of human rights, does the right to serve food without washing your hands factor in? Or the right to demand water without lemon? the manager told the man he was “high maintenance” and kicked him out of the restaurant. There’s no denying that a bad review on Trip Advisor might be warranted, but instead of doing that, the man took his woes to Ontario’s human rights regulators, who ended up ruling against the restaurant. It must be said that this case is hardly an outlier. In 2008, the former employee of a Vancouver McDonald’s eatery won $48,000 for lost income and injury to her “dignity and selfrespect” after the British Columbia Human Rights Tribunal ruled that McDonald’s had discriminated against her when the company fired her for not washing her hands while working in the kitchen – on account of a skin condition she had. Later on, in Ontario, a man was awarded nearly $80,000 for “reckless infliction of mental anguish” after he was fired from a job as an artillery

software technician because of a mental illness – bipolar disorder, which caused him to have paranoid delusions and manic episodes at work – that he failed to disclose on his application. The Quebec Human Rights Commission ruled earlier this year that comedian Mike Ward had to pay $15,000 for a joke that made fun of a disfigured teenager. In poor taste? Yes. Illegal? Heck no. Or, at least, it wasn’t illegal before the implementation of section 13 of the Canadian Human Rights Code which allows the federal human rights commission to prosecute people for internet “hate speech” (which as we’ve seen in the commission’s studious application of the provision is interchangeable with “conservative speech”) even when such speech doesn’t meet the criminal threshold for hate speech. The world is rife with genuine human rights violations but where, on the hierarchy of human rights, does the right to serve food without washing your hands factor in? Or the right to test artillery while having a manic episode? Or the right to demand water without lemon? They should rank so low that they aren’t even on the list. In fact, these so-called human rights commissions only serve to devalue the actual fundamental rights and freedoms that people flee dictatorships to find in western countries, such as Canada. As someone who endeavours to protect liberty, it is troubling when government agencies

are suppressing it in relentless pursuit of more convoluted faux freedoms that tend to play to identity politics more than they edify any of our institutions. Earlier in the year, a Toronto body size advocate – otherwise known as a fat woman with a cause – launched a campaign to have body shape and size added to the human rights code as a protected ground against discrimination. If adopted, it would make fat people – like myself – able to take would-be employers or retailers to the human rights commission if they treated me differently because of my size. Given how past cases have unfolded, this might even mean a commission would punish a clothing store that didn’t have clothing in a certain size. A fitness centre that didn’t want an obese person working at its front desk – which would hardly be a ringing endorsement of the gym – would also be fined. The fundamental flaw in human rights commissions lies in their rejection of the free market as a way of regulating tolerance and good business practices. To rationalize their existence, they’ve had to manufacture rights, rather than protect them; often at the expense of hardworking business men and women, by the way. Human dignity and quality of life wouldn’t suffer if the commissions and tribunals were razed to the ground. They would improve. p

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1,0 0 0 wo rd s o r l e s s

by Bob McKenzie It is a capital mistake to theorize before one has data. Insensibly one begins to twist facts to suit theories, instead of theories to suit facts.

— Sherlock Holmes

rime prevention is an

important function of police services. Police presence discourages criminal activity, and expert police advice to owners of businesses and homes can prevent break-ins, to cite only two examples. The movie Minority Report (2002) gives an entirely new meaning to crime prevention. The film is adapted from a story by Philip K. Dick, whose work has formed

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the basis for a number of dystopian cinematic entertainments such as Blade Runner (1982) and Total Recall (1990). In Minority Report, set in Washington, D.C. in the year 2054, Tom Cruise heads a special police unit called “Precrime.” With information provided by three people called “Pre-Cogs” (we might call them psychics) who can see into the future and predict crimes that have not yet been committed, the Precrime unit rushes out and arrests people who, they believe, are about to commit a crime. As a result, the city of Washington has become virtually crime-free. Of course this is only a movie, and a rather silly, though entertaining, one at that. In the real world, we don’t look into a crystal ball and condemn people for crimes they might commit. Or do we? General Dynamics Land Systems Canada is a subsidiary of the American aerospace and defence contractor General Dynamics. Its factory on Oxford Street east in London employs about 2,000 workers, currently carrying out a 14-year contract to build $15 billion worth of Light Armoured Vehicles for Saudi Arabia. Irene Mathyssen of the New Democratic Party has served since 2006 as the federal Member of Parliament for London-Fanshawe, the riding which includes the General Dynamics factory. Having previously said nothing against the Saudi contract, unexpectedly on April 27 she called for the Trudeau Liberal government to suspend deliveries under the contract until it could be determined whether the vehicles might somehow be used by the Saudis to violate the human rights of their own citizens. Stéphane Dion, Minister of Foreign Affairs, has said that if information came to light that the vehicles were being employed by the Saudis to violate the human rights of civilians, he would have to consider cancelling export permits for further deliveries. Mathyssen found that position inadequate. At the same time, in Ottawa, Amnesty International and three other human rights organizations also called for suspension, or possibly outright cancellation, of the General Dynamics/Saudi contract. Peggy Mason, president of the

Dreamworks/20th Century Fox

Minority Report

A precog in the film Minority Report who can see the future and predict events

Rideau Institute, said, “It is a pernicious argument to assert that Canadian jobs must depend on the killing, maiming, injuring, and repressing of innocent civilians abroad.” Alex Neve of Amnesty International said, “The likelihood that these light armoured vehicles will end up implicated in [human rights violations] is very serious,” and “What we need to do is to honour our international human rights obligation ... and that requires rescinding this deal.” Officials of Unifor, the union representing London’s General Dynamics workers, warned that cancellation of the contract would create a serious financial loss for the company, and would result in more than 500 workers losing their jobs. Not mentioned, but a plausible possibility nevertheless, is that General Dynamics might decide to pull out of Canada altogether, leaving behind 2,000 unemployed workers and yet another empty and abandoned large factory. The culture of Saudi Arabia is different from ours, and its record with regard to human rights may well be disappointing to many Canadians. But absolutely no evidence has been presented by human rights groups or anyone that the Saudi government has used, or has any intention of using, Light Armoured Vehicles against “innocent civilians.” Why would they even need armoured vehicles to abrogate the human rights of civilians, assuming they wished to do so? Fortunately, the government is unlikely to pay any attention to these accusations, which are based on no evidence whatsoever, not even predictions by Pre-Cogs. The real outcome will be the erosion of the credibility of Mathyssen and the four human rights organizations who have made the accusations. The NDP already has enough difficulty

in seeming credible, after announcing their goofy Leap Manifesto, devised by ultra-left wing environmentalist nut case Naomi Klein, who is the mirror image of ultra-right wing nut case Ann Coulter.

On a related

but lighter note (pun intended) the London Fire Department has recommended a ban on the use of sky lanterns in the city, claiming they are a fire hazard. A sky lantern is a lightweight, translucent paper cylinder, closed at the top, with a framework across its open bottom to support a small candle. When the candle is lit, it illuminates the lantern, and fills it with warm air, which, being less dense than the outside air, causes the lantern to rise. This is the principle of the hot air balloon; sky lanterns are more or less miniature hot air balloons. The lanterns are released into the night sky to celebrate festive occasions such as weddings. As long as the candle is burning the sky lantern remains aloft. When the candle goes out, the air inside the lantern cools and the lantern falls to earth. Elementary physics tells us that the lantern cannot descend until the candle ceases burning. It would be interesting to receive an explanation from the fire department as to how an extinguished candle could start a fire. So far there has never been a report in Canada or the United States of a fire started on the ground by a sky lantern, even though many thousands of them have been released. Perhaps freak circumstances could be imagined (by Pre-Cogs) in which a sky lantern might touch down while still burning. But surely we have enough real problems to deal with, and probably shouldn’t be getting upset about far-fetched, imaginary threats.

es s a ys in i d le n e s s

Victorian Literature by David Warren

The coarse word condemns the sin; the refined word excuses it. This is the

secret relationship between Victorian Bowdlerism and the postmodern politically correct. My thanks, as so often recently, to Mr. G.K. Chesterton for pointing this out while I was waking this morning. Our conversation, which has grown much rounder since I joined Holy Church, derives in this instance from a book he wrote in 1913. He was still an Anglican then, nearly a decade before he would himself be received (at something like the age at which I was). The book was The Victorian Age in Literature, a little volume in the Home University Library lent me by one of those priests who haunt Parkdale, and which turns out the most astute assessment of its topic I have seen. This is not light praise: for I have several times been mistaken for an English Perfesser and own the regulation tweed jacket. Chesterton’s epigrammatic remark on the coarse and the refined is characteristic of him: plain, simple and powerful enough to bring down the curtain wall of the castle. Moreover, it was one in a series of densely-packed epigrams, their fuses connected in unimpeachably logical order. Having made his hole, he then charges through and up the towers with grappling hooks, taking in due course the crenellated turrets of George Eliot and John Stuart Mill. From there he surveys the keep. But he does not deny they are towers, did not

belittle them while climbing, has not hesitated to show what is best and most impressive in their works. Nor, what is completely missing. For example: the curiously telling observation that George Eliot has humour and everything else required of great literature, except “glamour.” Or, that Jane Austen could do something none of the Victorian woman novelists who came after her could do, which was, look at a man coolly. And a hundred more remarks as startling and revealing. Chesterton makes me appreciate the best in authors I am inclined to abhor (Carlyle, for instance), and assures me that he appreciates the merits in those I love but find nearly indefensible (Ruskin). Almost invariably, there is real depth beneath the surface glitter. Chesterton attributes the polite (but anxious) discretion of the Victorian Age to the emergence of women as writers “equal” with, even greater than the men, in the remarkably original genre of the Victorian novel; then clinches this by observing that whereas no woman could have written Smollett’s Roderick Random (1748), a woman could perhaps have written Thackeray’s Henry Esmond (1852). And this thrown off, in the course of developing a larger argument about the “Victorian compromise” – the bastion of a semi-official Utilitarianism, absorbing shocks on every side, from literary, artistic and religious rebels, and being in some sense reshaped by them. Too, mutual absorption with an accommodating background religious tradition, long since undermined; ending finally in deadlock when this Christian

G. K. Chesterton remarked in The Victorian Age in Literature, that Jane Austen could do something none of the Victorian woman novelists who came after her could do, which was, look at a man coolly. faith refuses to disappear. The 20th century began on the 28th of June, 1914, and was as Solzhenitsyn declared, godless, in the main. Yet the peculiar nature of the godlessness of that short century (which ended in 1989) was not its own creation. True, it is prefigured in the French Revolution; in the French, German, and Scottish “Enlightenments.” But it is moderated and systematized in the Victorian literature that Chesterton has analyzed in this little book, and presented so clearly that we, who were creatures of the 20th century, can see ourselves in the mirror. Our essentially Victorian scheme of Progress, on the Utilitarian model, marched triumphantly forward through Auschwitz and the Gulag, into a world quite unlike that which the Victorians inhabited; a world they could not have imagined.

But they provided the moral callousing with which we endured it. “Progress” in itself means nothing – for what are we progressing towards? – unless given the direction which Utilitarianism gave it, at first explicitly, later implicitly. Chesterton demonstrates what Utilitarianism is: the old Puritan impulse, stripped of its Christian dogmatic content. Through the Victorian age, and great Victorian minds, it was able to assimilate what it initially lacked as an alternative religion. The genius of the age was to make armed and dangerous a worldview which, left only to its own resources, was merely boring and asinine: to provide it with the cosmology of Darwin and the psychopathology of Karl Marx. But it was more than the triumph of scientism. Through brilliantly agnostic novels, for instance, it reduced the poetic to the mundane. I see that Dale Ahlquist already flagged a note the publishers affixed to the front of this little, century-old volume. It explains that the book is not an “authoritative history of Victorian literature,” but only a “free and personal statement” of the “views and impressions” of its author. In other words, no author with “views” can be an authority. This is something I have been forced to accept about the world in which we have

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been living, ever since: that authority can come only from a committee; that “the personal” is inherently invalid; that unless vacuity can be guaranteed, no moral or intellectual argument has standing. In a further prefatory note, Chesterton himself is made to apologize for the way his religious beliefs may have contaminated his judgement. But with that out of the way, he proceeds to tell something that must have made his publishers feel awkward and uncomfortable: the truth. p

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tips for young people

Emily Post Grapples with the Etiquette of S&M Emily Post with Susan Cassan

I CAUGHT MYSELF YAWNING

at a recent harp concert at The Eternal Tea Party and peeked at my electronic device. The name Jian Ghomeshi was featured prominently, along with pictures of indignant women carrying protest signs. Since my death in 1960, I have been enjoying the comforts of The Eternal Tea Party with pleasant company and perfect tea. My short sabbaticals to write helpful advice to 21st Century young men and women were forgiven as the benevolent gestures they were. Lately, however, I have been getting a lot of questions about the use of my iPhone. The idea that Heaven doesn’t need disturbances like this has been suggested to me, but how else would I have found out about the strange doings at the Ghomeshi trial? The source of the conflict over the verdict is clear to me. Judge Hoskins delivered a correct legal verdict. The problem is that the incidents were actually a terrible breach of etiquette which became entangled with the law. Nowhere is etiquette more important than during courtship rituals, or “dating”. Life-

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altering decisions will be made which determine the future happiness of both parties and even of their families and children yet unborn. The consequences far exceed the use of the wrong fork at a dinner party. Mr. Ghomeshi’s social life was fraught with faux pas so egregious that they led to adjudication in front of a judge, who in his attempt to do his proper job, displeased many women and men. The young ladies who socialized with Mr. Ghomeshi thought they were going out on something like a “date”. In my day, the rules were clear. Gentlemen and ladies dressed in their best. Gentlemen called on the ladies, opened the doors of the vehicle for them, or took the side closest to the roadway if they were walking down a sidewalk. Doors were opened for the ladies, who walked in first. The gentleman paid the bill at the restaurant or for the theatrical performance. A lady courteously took into account her suitor’s financial situation and refrained from ordering the most expensive item on a menu. Both would be obligated to make polite conversation in which shared tastes in music, books and recreation could be discovered, along with a sense of whether or not the other party was compatible enough for another “date”. Under no circumstances would a

man and woman repair to his or her home to spend time alone. The reason was simple. The young lady’s reputation would be compromised. If it was suspected that she might have had intimate

The Etiquette

of S&M relations with a man, her ability to attract another man to marry her would be severely diminished. That the man’s reputation would not be similarly affected is one of those contradictions which modern society has tried to solve by offering young women the same options as men. Unfortunately, consequences for men and women remain asymmetrical. In the contemporary world a man (or possibly a woman) could be interested in a “hook up”. Under this arrangement, the social aspects of the evening are shortened or perhaps eliminated in order to proceed to the real purpose of the evening which is to have intimate relations with no promised interest on either side for a continuing relationship. If by chance one of the parties wants to continue the relationship, the other may have cause for alarm. The uninterested party may be indignant and feel “stalked”. Things can degenerate to the point that police are called, resulting in a possible court record for one who doesn’t understand that the agreement to have intimate relations under the rules of a “hook up” does not open the door to affection or further meetings. Because I have not been around to clarify

the rules, much grief has been experienced. Expecting to be treated like a valued friend or lover after a “hook up” is not only foolish, but just plain rude. If you have an impulse to meet again, this is one of those rare occasions where email is the ideal medium of communication. A discrete inquiry as to whether the other party would enjoy having a cup of coffee (or a repeat performance) with a clear understanding that a refusal is perfectly acceptable is not inappropriate. A refusal, or no answer at all, must be accepted wholeheartedly and no further communication other than “Good morning” if meeting by chance in an elevator. When the rules are well understood by all, the police and courts of law can be avoided.

his brings us to the problems with Mr. Ghomeshi. It seems Mr. Ghomeshi was inviting ladies to a different kind of social occasion. The ladies would have been flattering themselves if they thought they were going on a “date”. At best they may have thought they were being invited for casual conversation or a “hook up”. Because the rules are so unclear, it is not necessary for the gentleman or lady to indicate at the outset what is the purpose of the home visit. Therefore it is not possible for either party to clarify his or her expectations. Indeed, either party could feel cheated if no intimate relations resulted, or insulted if such were demanded. There are well understood rules governing Sado-Masochistic (S&M) encounters. However, Mr. Ghomeshi chose not to make clear just what kind of event he was interested in. Hence, his question of L.R., after vigorous kissing and yanking her hair: “Do you like that?” Unfortunately, as L.R. didn’t know what kind of occasion Mr. Ghomeshi wanted, she did not know how to answer appropriately. One option: “I sure do! My ‘safe word’ is supercalifragilisticexpialidocious. What’s yours?” Or, “No I don’t. I’m into dominance. Next time I’ll bring my whip.” Sadly, it is possible that the honest answer may have been, “Actually I was hoping, possibly naively, that you would turn out to be the man who

would become my husband, who wants a loving and respectful relationship where we both do all in our power to support each other and make our lives richer for being together.” That last answer, however appropriate for a “date” is not appropriate for a “hook up” or an S&M encounter. Mr. Ghomeshi would not have found himself in court if he had observed the rules of S&M encounters. Limits are negotiated. (Dropping melted wax on bare skin is permissible, but no setting fire to hair). “Safe words” are exchanged with

Mr. Ghomeshi would not have found himself in court if he had observed the rules of S&M encounters

the clear understanding that if either party uses them, all activity is to stop immediately. Look at the amount of grief, not to mention legal fees, Mr. Ghomeshi would have saved himself if he had only obeyed the rules. The ladies in question could have made an informed decision as to whether or not they wanted to join Mr. Ghomeshi in his residence. Worse, Mr. Ghomeshi was positively deceptive when he invited Miss DeCouture to “listen to some music and just hold her”. Imagine her surprise when Mr. Ghomeshi gave her a tour of his very neat and well-cared for house and then “suddenly, out of the blue, he kissed her . . . put his hand onto her throat and pushed her forcefully to the wall, choking her and slapping her in the face.” This would have come as no surprise if she had understood his actual interests.

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It was not only Mr. Ghomeshi who was indulging in deceptive or self-deceptive practices. Miss DeCouture wrote a series of emails about an upcoming event in Banff in which, among other things, she offered “a chance encounter in the broom closet.” Mr. Ghomeshi’s response, “I’d love to hang but I can’t promise much,” failed to discourage her. Invitations to breakfast and offers to “beat the crap” out of him if they did not “hang” followed, breaking the unwritten but clearly necessary rule of not insisting on contact after a “hook up” or after an S&M encounter. This also had legal implications, casting doubt on Miss DeCouture’s accusation of a traumatic and distasteful assault by Mr. Ghomeshi. And here is the crux of Judge Horkins’s problem. In a court of law, evidence has to be judged by consistency. Over a thousand years of jurisprudence has made the rules of accusation without confirming forensic evidence very strict. Do we really want to throw out the laws that protect us all from false accusation over what is clearly a breakdown in social communication? Even if Mr. Ghomeshi’s “dates” had not ended up in a court of law, the

Either party can feel cheated if no intimate relations result, or insulted if such are demanded

glimpse they give into personal relationships is sad. Rather than writing a new book on the etiquette of “hook ups”, S&M, and heaven knows what, I would rather beg young ladies and gentlemen to consider the desirability of reviving the “date” in which visits to homes, hotel rooms and broom closets are not included. It seems your parents, or perhaps even your grandparents enshrined what we called “Free Love” as a prerogative of both sexes. The Ghomeshi trial has illustrated that the result is neither “Free” nor does it involve “Love”. Lacking a clear courtship ritual with attendant rules understood by all, young people engage in social variations which almost by their very nature minimize the chances of getting to know the other in a context that makes a future relationship of mutual respect and affection possible. Where society once provided a shared foundation of expectations, young people are now left to negotiate these dangerous waters with no compass and alone.

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da p p l ed t h in gs

From tolerance to tyranny by Paula Adamick

“Everything not forbidden is compulsory”

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— T.H. White, The Once and Future King

hen the Leftist beast begins to devour its own, it’s time to pay serious attention. Now is such a time. Last month, as the U.S. tore itself apart over transgender washroom rights at universities, feminist icon Germaine Greer fell afoul of the speechpolice for violating one of the tropes of the Leftist religion. She said that truck drivers with penises are not women. “If you’re a 50-year-old truck driver who’s had four children with a wife and you’ve decided the whole time you’ve been a woman, I think you’re probably wrong,” she said. Well, duh, you’re thinking. But that’s not the point. The point is how tyrannical the LGBT sensibility appears to have become and how far the West has fallen in a very short time as a result of indulging a world view that will not tolerate the simple facts of life – that a man is not a woman, black is not white, up is not down. So that when any criticism – or even a question – is raised over this new cult of self-identification in which a man can now become a woman by simply declaring it, the questioner is denounced as an offensive ‘transphobic’ who must be banished from polite society for speech-crime. Greer wasn’t having it, of course. And she said as much by retorting angrily: “Just because you lop off your d*** and then wear a dress doesn’t make you a

f***ing woman!” But that doesn’t explain how we got here. How did thinking that men are not women – regardless of how much lipstick they wear – become one of the great thoughtcrimes of our time? Nor does it explain the instant hostility that erupts when a popular athlete emits an emotional comment related to his sport. Take Maple Leafs’ defenceman Morgan Rielly who ignited the equivalent of an IED during an interview in late February when he said that when he’s playing hockey, he’s not on the rink “to be a girl about it.” Instant detonation was followed by a torrent of outrage alleging that his comments were

sexist and inappropriate, forcing Rielly to apologize. For what, you might ask? When did such a subjective and spontaneous comment become a speech-crime? Who’s the judge? Who’s the jury? What authority appointed them? And who endowed that authority with the right to threaten the ‘offender’ with an implied loss of his/her job? You might also ask: when and how did the media become part of the public policing of such speech and thought crime? Most readers are aware of an incident in early April when Blue Jays’ coach John Gibbons lampooned his team’s poor performance by recommending they wear dresses the next time they hit the baseball field. Readers may not

Woe to anyone who dares question the Not-So-Brave-New World and its new Authoritarians who insist that anything goes . . . except for criticism which must be crushed

know? You guessed it. Gibbons’ comment about dresses. “Gibbons’ comments were sexist,” Beezer charged. “But holy crap, should we carry on with the stoning right now or wait for a trial? But now he’s learning the valuable lesson that, in this town, this society, you have to watch what you say all the time. Never, ever, say anything that will offend anyone at any time. This is Toronto.” Nevertheless, the Beezer insisted that Gibbons still deserved to be called out for the line. Why? What unseen authority deemed it ‘sexist’? Does the authority have a name? Who does it answer to? Don’t you want to know? Are you even curious? “He shouldn’t have said what he said,” Beezer insisted. “Even if it was meant to lighten things up. And he should have apologized afterward. But he didn’t.”

So that’s it then? Gibbons deserves to be persecuted for not succumbing to the oppressively gaseous political correctness now smothering the free world? And patrolled by an amorphous, nameless, faceless thought-police poised to unleash the forces of doom upon anyone who veers off the PC reservation? Here’s my question: Who will stand up for the victims of this collectivist beast? We’ve heard all the reasons for why such extreme ‘sensitivity’ should be tolerated in the name of diversity and respect, empowering the thought-and-speech police to intimidate, frighten and shut down all dissent and all rational inquiry that might challenge their power and question their nowconventional wisdom. This is what Greer did, apparently striking a raw nerve by simply insisting that womanhood is a biological thing, a thing of substance, of flesh and bone, thereby challenging the contentions of Bruce Jenner, Bradley Manning and others that womanhood in particular and sexuality in general are merely subjective and relativistic conditions. But that’s been the game all along, has it not? To exploit those genuinely suffering from all manner of psychological and sexual difficulty and confusion in order to totally upend all those foundational beliefs which, until very recently, had been the accepted verities of society and life itself. And to reject

Blazing Cat Fur

be aware, however, of a quickly deleted tweet by a well-known Toronto activist who, around the time of Gibbons’ crack, joked about killing people. Which was worse, Toronto Sun sports columnist Steve Buffery (aka the Beezer) demanded to

reality itself and replace it with relativist assumptions about the nature of humankind and how it reproduces and maintains itself on Planet Earth. Or not. And woe to anyone who dares question the Not-So-Brave-New World and its new Authoritarians who insist that anything goes … except for criticism which must be crushed … and that behaviours that were once forbidden are now compulsory. At least in terms of their acceptance. This also means that to openly oppose the new authoritarianism and its thought-police – as Greer has done – is a truly revolutionary act. But how did we get here? The usual way. Via the slippery slope and a half a century of the gradual shifting away from the absolutes of the JudeoChristian ethos into the dictatorship of Relativism. Which opened the way for the tolerance of formerly unacceptable proclivities such as pornography, among others and which, in turn, seduced and then enslaved many into the contemporary cult – some

say curse – of total sexual freedom. This despite the fact that Sigmund Freud’s psychological theories have been largely dis-

credited. Yet one of his fundamental assumptions – that most psychological suffering is caused by the suppression of sexual desires – remains a bedrock of today’s culture. Freedom from the old sexual taboos has not freed us from neuroses and psychoses. Instead, it has led the culture into a much darker world of sexual obsession. Complete sexual freedom has not made us happier or healthier. But rather than admit this, the cowards among us prefer to lash out when any one of the twisted tropes of modern sexuality is violated. As they did to Greer, Gibbons et al, demonstrat-

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ing the Left’s success in erasing the lines between virtue and vice. And in its intolerance of any and all dissenters who get in its way. Sadly, the failure to distinguish virtue from vice also results in the inability to distinguish freedom from tyranny which, in turn, leads to submitting to the tyranny of its now aberrant moral order. Which is what we’re witnessing today – whole societies upending themselves so completely that the oft repeated warning: “The beatings will continue until morale improves” now appears less a joke than a promise. p

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then play on

LOST CLASSIC

MONDO PHONO

by Dave Clarke

The Blue Shadows On the Floor of Heaven Bumstead Records (1992)

AROUND TOWN

Selena Gomez at Budweiser Gardens Monday, May 23rd

Even if you weren’t among the throng of her young fans, you would be hard pressed not to have heard of Selena Gomez. Between her on again / off again romance with Justin Bieber and her high-up position in fellow pop sensation Taylor Swift’s girl posse, she has become a mainstay in the celebrity news reports. She first grabbed the spotlight as a child star on Barney and Friends and the Disney Channel’s Wizards of Waverly Place. As ‘Selena and the Scene’ she began a successful music career with her debut album Kiss and Tell, a top ten hit and their two

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equally popular subsequent releases. Those were followed by two more solo albums with last year’s Revival debuting at #1. Expect an elaborate stage show and a packed house of adolescent fans as Selena brings her Revival tour to Budweiser Gardens May 23rd, with special guests, Joe Jonas’s new band DNCE. Tickets start at $52.50 and up, depending on seating.

Rock n’ Roll as Satan’s Sidekick It

didn’t take long for rock n’ roll to receive the Satan Seal of Disapproval, taking the heat off the blues and R&B former title holders. Whether it was the pelvic gyrations of Elvis or that rather true but ill-timed comment by John Lennon about his band’s popularity, it didn’t take much for the Christian right to grab their lighters and lay waste to the reputation (as well as the physical conveyance) of rock n’ roll in popular record burnings. And we haven’t even got into the time period of heavy metal Satanists like Black Sabbath and Judas Priest with their diabolical ability to deliver their message backwards. This brings me to a fun book that resides on my music library shelf, Eric Barger’s From Rock to Rock . . . The Music of Darkness Exposed. This includes Mr. Barger’s original rock music rating system, a 10 item check list of bad things about rock music ranging from advocacy of drugs, rebellious behaviour, escapism and of course Satanic themes that seem to dominate today’s music. Of course Kiss (Kids in Service to Satan) manages to tick off 8 of the 10 boxes. But you’d be shocked to see who else makes the list, including The Eagles (who earn a 9 out of 10, thrashing those face make-up slackers) and Ringo Starr (perhaps more a ‘pentagram’ than a ‘starr’) who also ticks 9, beating out Southern Death Cult with a lowly 3 and Megadeth who only manage 6. Barger a former long haired rock musician and drug addict (don’t those two walk hand and hand?) devotes whole sections of the book to the evils of Huey Lewis and the News as well as a chapter on Satanic symbols to look out for on album covers including pyramids (say goodbye to Earth Wind and Fire and The Alan Parsons Project), palmistry markings (Duran Duran and Earth Wind and Fire once again) and the peace sign (to hell with hippies). To be on the safe side I suggest a steady musical diet of Ray Coniff and Henry Mancini.

fter being kicked out of the hit family band The Cowsills, lead singer Bill Cowsill headed out to the green pastures of Canada where he would join the excellent pop band, Blue Northern, and then with Jeffrey Hatcher form The Blue Shadows. Their debut On the Floor of Heaven is a true alt-country masterpiece featuring Cowsill’s and Hatcher’s Everly Brothers-style harmonies and twelve great original songs. The rest of the band, bassist Elmer Spanier and drummer J.B. Johnson, are joined by guest musicians, steel guitarist Greg Leisz and some sweet fiddle playing from Gary Comeau. There isn’t a weak track on the album, with outstanding songs like The Fool is the Last One to Know with a vocal that reminds me of Dave Edmunds – in fact the whole album with those harmonies sounds like the best output of Rockpile. Other faves include Think On It (what a killer chorus), A Thousand Times (the Everly sound in full effect) and the great hurtin’ country song, The Embers. The long out of print album saw a re-release in 2010 which included

a second disc of recordings from 1992-96, including more great originals like A Paper and A Promise and A Little Bit Lonesome, A Little Bit Blue, and cool covers like Merle Haggard’s If We Make It Through December, Joni Mitchell’s Raised on Robbery and Michel Pagliaro’s What the Hell I Got. The band split after a second album Lucky to Me, with Jeffrey Hatcher continuing with the Jeffrey Hatcher Band and Cowsill playing with the band The Co-Dependents as well as doing production work before passing away in 2006.

SHORTLISTED

FIFTH BEATLES

1Stu Sutcliffe

The true 5th Beatle, as he was their original bassist when they were a 5-piece band in their Hamburg, Germany days. In Germany he became engaged to Astrid Kirchherr, whose hairstyling skills were responsible for their distinctive haircuts. A talented artist he left the band to continue his art studies in Germany, but died of a brain aneurysm in 1962, possibly brought on by a head injury he had received in an after-gig dust up.

George Martin with the Beatles

a self-proclaimed fifth Beatle. The Ronettes had just toured the UK and told Kaufman about the Beatles and the Beatles about Murray. He had already started playing their music and when they arrived for their first tour of America, he was given exclusive access to the

2 Pete Best

The original drummer again from their Hamburg days. He was fired by Brian Epstein on behalf of the other Beatles, opening the door for Ringo to join. Reasons for Best’s dismissal have ranged from his popularity with the female Beatles fans to his less than stellar drum skills. There may be truth to both of those but another factor comes from those early days, where Pete, a bit of a loner, refused to join the other lads for all the shenanigans that the wild German city had to offer and he was generally disliked by Paul and George. After a short-lived solo career, including the cleverly titled Best of the Beatles album he settled down to become a civil servant.

3 Murray the K

Popular DJ for New York’s WINS radio station, Murray Kaufman was

band. Murray the K broadcast his radio show from their Plaza Hotel suite and travelled with the band for part of the tour, including rooming with George Harrison in Miami, Florida. Never shy about promoting himself as well, he was nonetheless a major instigator in whipping up that first wave of American Beatlemania.

4George Martin

The producer of most of the Beatles’ output, Martin was the perfect fit for the lads. Less stodgy than most of EMI’s house producers, he had also produced the comedy troupe the Goons, winning him brownie points with Lennon who was a big fan of their absurdist humour. He was open to the Beatles’ revolutionary ideas and

helped make them work in a studio situation, and his arranging skills added to the Beatles’ sound, including the string quartet on Yesterday and the stand out trumpet sound on Penny Lane. After the Beatles he continued as a successful producer founding the famous AIR studios in Montserrat (later destroyed by a hurricane) and receiving a knighthood in 1996. He had won pretty much every production award there is before passing away this year at the ripe old age of 90.

5 Mal Evans

Bouncer at the Cavern Club, road manager and friend to the Beatles, Evans eventually became their personal assistant and executive with their Apple Corporation, where he produced the classic Badfinger track, No Matter What. He appeared on numerous Beatles recordings, supplying backing vocals, organ and harmonica, and yes, that’s him playing the anvil in the Let it Be film on Maxwell’s Silver Hammer. Indeed, he had cameos in four out of five of the band’s films). Suffering from depression and on Valium, Evans started acting erratically and brandishing a toy air gun and was fatally shot by police who were unaware that the gun was harmless.

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sa t u rd ay n i g h t h o p

The Return of The Tall One by Herman Goodden

egendary London disc jockey, Dick Williams, known as ‘The Tall One’ in the early ‘60s when CFPL AM ruled the airwaves, has written a very engaging memoir, A DJ’s Spin, which will be officially launched at a special show on May 21st. Billed as The Return of the Saturday Night Hop, the 8 p.m. show at the Dutch-Canadian Club will be hosted by Williams and feature performances by Tom Cat Prowl, The Incontinentals, John Bellone and Frankly Scarlett – all serving up music of the early

‘60s with a special emphasis on the songs of the British Invasion. After an indecently quick peruse of his book, The Yodeller sat down with Williams to recall some of the highlights of that special time in his career.

In Dave Clarke’s Shortlisted column in the Yodeller this week, he lists the five prime candidates to earn honorary designation as the ‘Fifth Beatle’. For your work in preparing the way for The Beatles’ transatlantic invasion in February of ’64, you obviously should be the Sixth Fifth Beatle. How did you get in on it so early?

I had this lady who introduced herself to me out of the blue whose name was Rita Wood and she had worked at one of the record companies in London, England and emigrated to Canada and she said, “I have access to these Beatles and as soon as they’ve done a test pressing, I can get you copies of the stuff way before it’s ever released as a single.” So she would get her friend to mail them, she’d bring them to me and I’d put them right on the air. I had been reading in the international editions of Billboard and Cashbox that these guys were really taking off in England. So I started to play them and people said, “Boy, that’s really good stuff.” Since I had them exclusively, I didn’t want other stations to record them off the air so every time I played them I had a little piece of production where Geoff Bingle, my old boss, would whisper, “CFPL exclusive” over the middle of it. It added a bit to the drama of it too, a little bit of showbiz. So I played the heck out of those things and people really responded. We had instant request lines where you’d vote for your favourite song and numbers one, two and three were often The Beatles, so I played them and played them and played them.

So when you’re playing the poop out of these 45’s – and you got into this almost a year before they played The Ed Sullivan Show – nobody over here can even buy some of the most popular records on your show. 16 the london yodeller

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On the back cover of this November 1964 Fabulous Forty Survey, Dick Williams (The Tall One) [centre] insinuates himself into the Dave Clark Five on the tarmac at London Airport.

That’s right. The Beatles still hadn’t settled on anybody to represent them in North America. Eventually Capitol Records bought the rights to them in Canada [and Vee Jay picked up their earliest stuff in the States] but I had them before they were available on record anywhere in North America. The record companies weren’t too thrilled about that because I was creating demand for something that wasn’t going to be available for months. I could just hype the heck out of it and we were the only place you could hear their music.

And then you hosted The Dave Clark Five when they played the Treasure Island Gardens in November of ’64. You used to frequently do remote broadcasts from the Sayvette department store whose manager, Pat Quinn, was an aspiring concert promoter and he brought in the DC5.

That was another nice little deal for us and a lot of fun. I met them on the tarmac at the airport, and since we were all roughly

the same age there wasn’t a lot of ice to be broken. They were easy-going, well-grounded guys, with no attitude problems or pretensions of grandeur. We posed for some pictures, then we were whisked to waiting convertible limos that took us to their hotel. I interviewed Dave Clark and organist Mike Smith during the drive. Both shows were sold out, perhaps in part because it was a real rock and roll extravaganza. On the bill beside the DC5 were U.S. singer Jimmy Soul, Toronto’s David Clayton Thomas and the Shays, Ottawa’s Esquires, Brantford’s Sandi Simms and the Diplomats and London’s Johnny Stevens Sextet, the Undertakers and the Fortune Tellers.

The one concert from that period that you don’t mention in your book is the infamous Rolling Stones concert the

following spring where a riot broke out.

No, CFPL didn’t get in on that. I don’t know why. We had virtually nothing to do with that one which may have been just as well.

Reading your book I was so impressed by the leeway you had in that period, the freedom to make your own choices about what music to play even if it didn’t happen to be available yet for anyone to buy. I’m guessing those days are gone? Oh, totally. Absolutely. They’re given a playlist now. The songs are preloaded into the computer so you play whatever’s next. The disc jockey has no say in it. It’s all done by head office in Toronto or at very best you might have a local program director but he is overseen as well. You don’t add a song without a lot of talk with head office.

Tickets for The Saturday Night Hop are $15 Available at: The Dutch Canadian Club 519-455-7170 John Bellone’s Musical Instruments 519-673-1411 The Village Idiot 519-434-9594 hchpowersolutions@bellnet.ca 519-659-4424

sou n d s u r ve y

Music fortifies the spirit

by renée silberman

The

more one becomes aware of the great tradition of organ music, organ performance, the role of the instrument in religious services and in the broader world of music-making, the more intense becomes one’s appreciation of the instrument’s majestic voice and essence. The organ is complex, comprised of diverse parts including keyboards, foot pedals, pipes through which wind is circulated, indeed it is described as one of the most complicated mechanical inventions manufactured prior to the Industrial Revolution. One observes with awe the proud and beautiful disposition of an organ. An organ commands space, fills space with its physical being, and when played, transforms a silent room into an epicenter of sonic magic. Organs exist to serve all situations from the most intimate to the grandest. Here we are in London, with our own splendid supply of organs AND of first-rate musicians who animate the full potential of their instruments. Notable among local organists is Paul Merritt, longtime music director at First-St. Andrew’s United Church. Now approaching retirement, Paul has given his best to his congregation and to the community at large. He is loved and respected by members of his church, as we read in the most recent Tidings bulletin of FSA. He is highly regarded by musicians in the city, and by colleagues in the international organ community. To understand Paul’s development as a musician, we must go back in time, to his boyhood in Thunder Bay. There, Paul studied the piano, with a promise from his mother that he could discontinue lessons after passing the Grade 8 Conservatory exam. Mrs. Merritt, a church musician, had her own amusing agenda. Once Paul completed his end of the bargain, his mother informed him that he would begin organ lessons with one of the players in town. Paul was a good and loyal student,

but in his first few years, it did not occur to him that his path was directed toward a career. In his final year of high school, he had a rare opportunity to hear the very fine Larry Cortner, then a faculty member at UWO, who visited Thunder Bay for the purpose of giving a recital. The experience was revelatory, a seminal moment that gave shape to young Paul’s intentions. He applied to Western, to study with Dr. Cortner, spending the years 1971-75 as a student. Those were heady times for organ studies – the music faculty enjoyed

Paul Merritt, music director at First-St. Andrew’s United Church

Photo: renée silberman

Paul Merritt turns his attention daily to music that speaks without affectation of matters of heart and soul

a period of expansion, moving from the old Silverwood building on Richmond Street, into the new von Kuster facility, one year after Paul Merritt entered the program. Under the able guidance of the Dean, Hugh McLean, the organ department grew, flourishing both in numbers of students, and in facilities. McLean, himself one of the most illustrious organists Canada has produced, acquired one Casavant instrument for public performance, and two other organs for practice purposes. The number of students rose to twenty, and there were three faculty members. The era of guitar strumming and folk singing had not yet begun in a serious way, had not yet supplanted the organ and the tradition of formal singing. Organized religion still engaged a large part of the public. And so, Paul Merritt and his wife Enid set forth in 1975 for Moncton, where the organist/choirmaster post awaited. The Merritts remained in New Brunswick until 1984, when First-St. Andrew’s invited Paul to take up the same

type of position he had held in Moncton. Mr. Merritt speaks highly of his predecessors at FSA, most especially of H. Barrie Cabena, who led music activities from his aerie, the organ loft, from 19571975. Cabena oversaw the purchase of the Church’s very fine Casavant organ in 1968. E. Power Biggs came to London to inaugurate the new organ. This world-class instrument enhances church services week-by-week. As Paul points out, Cabena extended the visibility of both the church and the organ, introducing an annual series of organ festivals, bringing in top-notch artists from home and abroad. During Cabena’s time, FSA hosted a gathering of the Royal Canadian College of Organists. In addition, Cabena created the Friends of Music at FSA, an important committee, in order to build resources for maintaining a high quality concert program, in which ten concerts are presented each season. Cabena laid the foundation for the kind of work Paul continues to this day. There is a serious degree of professionalism in the way the Church, under energetic leadership, carries out its artistic, musical mission.

aul wears many hats at FSA. He directs and coordinates all musical activity, as organist, director of the senior choir, the children’s choir, and the hand-bell choir. His musicianship inspires all the groups at the Church. His outreach benefits London audiences through attractive programming. Over the years, FSA has presented numerous instrumental groups, including the St. Lawrence String Quartet, who have performed eight times to acclaim. The composer John Rutter came four times at Paul’s invitation to conduct his own works and those of others. In addition, Paul continued the tradition of holding organ recitals, and more than once brought the Royal College of Organists to London for their conventions. Paul makes sure the organ remains in good repair. And Paul Merritt makes his own important contribution to the success of the musical life of the Church through his vital, frequent performances of works from the organ repertoire. He played the Saint-Saens Organ Concerto during the 25th anniversary celebrations for the organ in the 1993-4 season. His Lenten and Advent concerts are major events. Perhaps of greatest importance is the relationship Paul sustains with the church itself, with the Minister, with the membership. He

knows the liturgy, and knows it well, to be sure, but the central part of his mandate is to draw the various elements that make up the congregation into a harmonious entity. The gift of music fortifies the spiritual side of things. Paul feels that Bach is “the main man.” He speaks of the “Orgel bewegung,” the organ reform movement, as a return to the principles of organ building and composing that prevailed in Bach’s time. The movement turned to the historical traditions of Bach the composer, and Gottfried Silbermann, organ builder. To get to the heart, the essential core of the masters’ intents, Paul Merritt turns his attention daily to music that speaks without affectation of matters of heart and soul. For Paul, a life in music, particularly in Church music, is his greatest joy. Join the celebrations honoring Paul Merritt as he retires from First-St. Andrew’s United Church:

Memories: From Bach to Rutter Concert with First-St. Andrew’s Senior Choir and Orchestra Saturday, May 28 at 7:30 pm Tribute Service for Paul Merritt with Organ, Trumpet, Senior Choir, Joyful Singers, Handbells and Strings Sunday, May 29 at 10:30 am

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The Love of Daily Bread 18 the london yodeller

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Our daily bread comes in many forms. Much is highly processed in large factories that use computerised systems to keep a consistent and predictable outcome. But the art of baking daily bread by hand is not lost. London’s Theo Korthof, a former chef, tried his hand at baking and discovered the delight of playing with recipes. Original and creative breads caught on quickly at the Western Fair Farmers’ and Artisans’ Market when he and his wife Gerda [lower left] set up the Artisan Bakery there in 2007 with employee Anne Roche. The demand for unique breads and pastries from local restaurants keeps their shop in East London busy day and night.

The staff, including Ana Marie Hunt and Anne Roche [ABOVE RIGHT] as well as co-op student Brittney Proctor [top left behind Theo] work in tight quarters with purpose that is enhanced with a strong sense of humour and respect for each other’s talents. It is much like watching a tightly choreographed dance as trays of dough are moved from the counter to proofing rack, to the oven and finally to the cooling racks and shipping trays, while sidestepping colleagues on the move. It is a more human and delicious way to fill our daily need for bread and community.

Theo Korthoff jokes with Anne Roche at Artisan Bakery in East London during morning production.

Above

The staff of Artisan Bakery discuss the next dayâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s production needs for purchase later in the day during their morning coffee break. Fresh and local is combined with artistic flair to produce unique products.

Left

Forest City Folk is an ongoing documentary of contemporary life in London, Ontario by London photojournalist Menno Meijer 05.12.16

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Advice by

Uncle Bruce SUBMIT YOUR QUESTIONS TO

info@londonyodeller.ca

Dear Uncle Bruce — There’s a new petition taking off on Change.org and we think you might be interested in signing it: While campaigning in 2015 the Liberal Party and their leader, current Prime Minister Justin Trudeau, campaigned on the Liberal’s [sic] promise to many young families to increase the maternity/parental leave from 12 months to 18 months. Some cities drive young families out just because there is no realistic early childcare solution to [sic] their children. Even when a spot is available, the daycare will only accept toddlers from 18 months. Why, then, does our maternity leave end at 12 months? How are the average Canadian young parents expected to go back to work? Who will care for their child? Extending maternity/parental leave to 18 months will allow parents to care for their children until they are ready to go to daycare. It will allow for families to survive during this difficult financial period of [sic] having a child. It will encourage people to have more children and it will make for better communities and better policy! — Sign the Petition

Dear Sign the Petition – Well, I must say, your beautifully written notice of petition (timed to coincide with Mother’s Day when all of us take a moment from our busy lives and schedules to personally thank our moms for going on the Baby Dole just for us) gives me much food for thought. Since his coronation, our groovy new Prime Minister has solved his daycare problems by hiring two nannies (at taxpayers’ expense, of course) to live and travel with the family at all times. Actions speak so much louder than words, don’t you think? And if you were to take heed of Prince Justine’s example instead of just his campaign promises, it seems to me that you should be pushing for maternity / parental leave packages that would be paid for the first 18 years of your child’s life. That would really make for better communities with so much less stress all round. And raising the money to pay for all this shouldn’t be a problem once the Dauphin figures out how to, as he so eloquently put it on the campaign trail, “grow the economy from the heart outwards”. I’m not ashamed to tell you that there are still some mornings when I wake up crying because it dawns on me all over again that it was oh so enterprising folks like you that elected this clown to the highest office in the land. No, I will not sign your stupid petition. — Sincerely, Uncle Bruce

n Dear Uncle Bruce — There is this profoundly dull man who comes into the book shop where I work at least once a week and tries to chat me up at great length about all the fascinating (not) things that are going on in his mundane life. I’ve tried looking bored (not so much of an effort). I’ve tried looking too busy with other things to spare him the time but he’s utterly oblivious to such signs and will not take the hint. I would just tell him to flake off but he drops major wads of cash each time he’s in and I know the manager would really miss the business. Can you see a graceful way out of this situation? — Just Trying to Get On with My Job

Dear Just Trying to Get On with My Job — Since our governments decided to save a few bucks by emptying out the mental hospitals, the grim reality is that those in retail sales (particularly bookshops, I’m afraid) have become front line mental health workers in absentia. If it’s peace of mind on the job that you’re after, you should perhaps look for a line of work where nobody ever wants to talk with you … say prostitution, a call centre or police work. — Sincerely, Uncle Bruce 05.12.16

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Pe g g ’s w o r l d

Don’t Steal This Book! Legal Advice from Saul Goodman by Robert Pegg

eleased last month just a week after the second-season finale of Better Call Saul, St. Martin’s Press’ Don’t Go to Jail! Saul Goodman’s Guide to Keeping the Cuffs Off, is one way to get through the next few weeks in the short wait till Season 2 comes out on DVD. Another way is to re-watch Season 1 or episodes featuring Bob Odenkirk as ‘Saul’ in Breaking Bad on the Netflix. But I’m here to look out for you, dear reader. I’ve already bought the book and wrote it off on my Yodeller expense account (don’t tell anyone but I soaked Uncle Bruce for 50 bucks,) so for discerning fans, the way I see it there are two options available. Best case scenario? You fork over the 35 bucks and buy the book and like it. Worse case scenario? You buy it and don’t like it. My advice? Get your library to order the damn thing, read it and decide

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for yourself. And if you really like it, tell them that you ‘lost’ it. Theoretically speaking that is. I’m not telling you what to do. We’re spit-balling here, dealing strictly in hypotheticals. Don’t do it though. The whole point of the

Be picky on just what lawyer you choose. The two of you have to be in tune together – otherwise it will be like Simon and Cher or Sonny and Garfunkel

book is to stay out of jail. ‘Misplacing’ something even as seemingly insignificant as a library book can result in jail time. Let’s say, oh, you claim that the airline lost your luggage and the copy of Don’t Go to Jail – which you had every intention of returning to the library the next day – was in your suitcase.

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The circulation desk clerk raises an eyebrow at this news and you lose it, become verbally abusive and threaten to not leave the building until you have the head of Neville Dewey, that guy who invented the Dewey Decimal system. Hey, it happens. Now, I’m going to go out on a very short limb here and warn you beforehand – don’t do it because it will likely result in you spending some time in the Greybar Hotel before getting transferred to the Highbury Hilton. And if any of that happens, get a lawyer. I’m going to make a few assumptions here before we go further. Number one – you know how to read. Number two – you have your own library card. Making threats in a public place (that’s why they call them ‘public libraries’) will likely result in the loss of that library card and the only reading you will be doing will be on the legal bills after you lawyer up. Unless you choose to defend yourself. Don’t do it. Saul kicks off his book

with a whole chapter on what can go wrong if you do. That said, he references a couple of occasions where it almost worked. One such is Ted Bundy, early on in his

with the multiple murders. Not that it helped – Bundy was convicted and executed anyway. But as Saul says, “I have to give him credit – the guy took to the law like chloroform takes to a rag.” But I digress – other chapters in the book detail

career as a serial killer. Charged with murder, and already convicted of an earlier kidnapping, as Saul writes, “Just like that fad diet ‘You Are What You Eat’ – Teddy looked like he was dead meat.” He represented himself when the case went to trial, then he escaped and when recaptured continued to represent himself – “And here’s the crazier part: the case was going Ted’s way. He was actually pretty sharp in the courtroom; knocking down weak evidence and motions from the prosecution right and left.” Still, he was convicted and then escaped from jail again. Arrested years later in Florida after continuing his killing spree, he chose to act as his own lawyer once more when charged

what to do if you happen to be one of the poor schmoes who line the waiting rooms of billboard/ park bench advertising lawyers like Saul. Say, if you get caught with weed in your car; get picked up on a bench warrant you didn’t even know about; pulled over on suspicion of DUI. All small potatoes compared to corporate crime but all can land you in jail anyway. And no one ever wants to spend time in a cell where there’s “so little light that even begonias hate it.” To avoid that, Saul suggests following these simple rules – don’t do anything stupid to get you arrested in the first place; if you do – shut up until you hire a lawyer and then continue to not say any-

thing. And you gotta trust him on this – be picky on just what lawyer you choose – and Saul gives tips on how to spot one who doesn’t care. The two of you have to be in tune together “otherwise it will be like Simon and Cher or Sonny and Garfunkel.” So please – don’t steal this book. Don’t be a schmuck. Because it’s not worth it. For one thing, currently it’s only available in hardcover so wait for the inevitable marked-down trade paperback when it surely comes out around the time of the DVD release of Season 2. And for another thing – Don’t Go to Jail is probably not what you are expecting as a fan of Saul Goodman, the fast-talking shady lawyer with the bon mots we all love. It actually is a legal guide to keep out of jail. Leave it to ol’ Saul – known for playing fast and loose with the truth – to actually deliver what the cover promises. The guy has moxie. And he knows his law. That said, the cover also says that it’s the words of Saul “as told to Steve Huff.” And that’s why the Boy Scout advice sometimes doesn’t ring authentic coming from Saul. After all, this is a guy who once told his drug-dealer clients Walt and Jesse on Breaking Bad that “There’s no honour among thieves – except us of course.” Depending on your level of fandom or current genuine need for legal advice, store-bought or a library copy, it doesn’t matter. It’s all good. S’all good, man.

d isp a t ch e s f ro m d y s t o p i a

Simply Falling Apart in London

Ciara Allen

it’s timE to admit it. LIFE HAS ME

a little overwhelmed. I’m sure this has been clear to outside observers for some time, but I’m just figuring it out now so we’re all going to pretend it’s my revelation. For those who might say, “I told you so”: If I were the sort of person who made a practice of listening to constructive criticisms of my life, I probably wouldn’t also be the sort of person who has a mental breakdown every three months, would I? So here we are.

There exist endless recommendations for handling stress. I’ve tried journaling and painting but all I ever end up with are pages full of expletives and portraits of dead birds, respectively. When even drinking fails me, I sometimes contemplate running away from it all. I even have alter egos with elaborate back stories prepared. I probably shouldn’t tell anyone about them but if you ever hear the names Delia Frost, Verandah Porchelaca or Tara Cotta-Potts attached to an international scandal, know that I’m living my truest life. Before I kick the stool out from under “Plan X”, however, I take a deep breath and remind myself that sometimes the solution lies merely in simplifying. Konrad Wilhelm Dielitz (1845–1933): Dornröschen (Sleeping Beauty) Simplicity is pure living. Simple food, because it’s honest. Simple clothes, because they’re modest. Simple people, because they’re easy to manipulate. What, then, could be more simple than a walk around the city in which I was born? The city I know like the back of my hand, the city I feel some degree of affection toward. London, Ontario, the simplest place this side of . . . Well, I haven’t been to many other places so that’s about as simple as it gets. These old neighbourhoods blighted by modern developments and roadways pitted by potholes and carrion bring me a strange sense of peace. I can walk out my door any time of day to the sights and sounds of the city and know nothing will ever change. I have landmarked the neighbourhoods with prime pot-smoking and party locations from my youth. Down by the old folk’s home on Grand Avenue is where I fell asleep under a tree when I was supposed to be in class. A winding journey away on Berkshire Drive is where I projectile vomited off a balcony. Even the mean streets of this old town have their own unique character, although I never walk down them without my trusty pocket knife in hand. I named it “Mean Bitch”, since “Sting” was already taken. I find myself smiling now as I sit on a curb and think, “I have no recollection of leaving my house. The last thing I remember is writing about how stressed I am. Did I disassociate again? I should call a cab.” While I wait for my chariot, watching our uniquely awful black squirrels play Frogger in traffic, I know that no matter how lost I am, London will always be there. I also want to know why I don’t have shoes on, but perhaps that’s not today’s journey. Hold me like the River Thames.

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g a l l ery re v ie w

Constructions of Reality Fictive Archaeology Haunts FCG Together, Aitken and Hoekstra’s practices combine to make for a strong exhibition with many complementary layers at play by Carling Spinney

inder-block alleys

SUPPORT THESE FINE BUSINESSES WHERE YOU’LL FIND Aeolian Hall Museum London the art centre Music & Video Place THE ART EMPORIUM mystic bookshop art exchange THE OLDE BAKERY CAFE artisan bakery ON THE SIDE ANTIQUES The Arts Project Palace Theatre FRAMING & ART CENTRE Attic Books PLAYWORLD FRINGE CUSTOM FRAMING & GALLERY Beat Goes On quiznos Grand Theatre BELLONE’S RAILWAY CITY BREWERY harvey’s Bijan’s Art Studio red roaster irene’s fish & chips B.J.’S COUNTRY MARKET root cellar organic cafe joe kool’s BONDI’S PIZZA scot’s corner John Bellone’s THE BOOK BIN Speed City records KING EDWARD RESTAURANT boston pizza Starbucks L.A. Mood Cardinal Books STRATHROY ANTIQUE MALL LITTLE BEAVER RESTAURANT Chaucer’s Pub subway THE LITTLE BOOK SHOPPE cherryhill mall Sunrise Records LITTLE RED’S PUB & EATERY Citi-Plaza mall tim horton’s london library branches city lights bookshop turner’s drug store London Music Club Coffee Culture VILLAGE PIZZA london pain & headache clinic Covent Garden Market western fair district Long & McQuade culture rising westland gallery LUCAN DONNELLY MUSEUM DAVID’S BISTRO white oaks mall memory lane antiques ELGIN COUNTY MUSEUM WIMPY’S DINER ELGIN COUNTY RAILWAY MUSEUM Michael Gibson Gallery WOODSTOCK ART GALLERY muldoon’s pizza Forest City Surplus YO YO’S YOGHURT

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and undulating projection screens establish the haunting vestiges of an imagined city at Forest City Gallery. The exhibition, Archaeological Infrastructures, is a collaborative installation by artists Jen Aitken and Aryen Hoekstra. Close-up images of Aitken’s multimedia sculptures are projected onto screens that hang from rope tied between the tops of white cinderblock towers. The towers, of varying heights, form a kind of abandoned neighbourhood, inviting exploration down constructed backstreets between cinder blocks and behind hanging laundry, otherwise recognized as draped projection screens. These screens recall human presence among concrete, built environments. The installation evokes a spectral city emptied of its citizens. Upon entering the gallery, I am confronted with a movable wall introducing the show. It hides the constructed city and, for a moment, I question whether I have the right place. But, once I round the corner, I am greeted with a quiet discovery of my own. Walking through the dimly lit exhibition, I unavoidably cross in front of various projectors, casting a shadow onto the screens. My shadow, itself walking across the projected images, points to not only the absence of humans in the built remains, but also to the ghostly effect of the installation. It makes for a silent companion as I walk through this city of shadows. Yet this absence is only noticeable by the presence of visitors to the exhibition. This absence / presence relation speaks to the changing forms of urban development, a mainstay of Hoekstra’s artistic practice. Overzealous

urban growth often breeds vacancy and demolition – what once was no longer exists. This binary also highlights the imaginary nature of the installation. While it conjures notions of a city, it is not based on any real place. Continuing through the exhibition, I begin to pay particular attention to the projected images. While they are disorienting close-ups of Aitken’s sculptures, made from concrete, wood, and foam, the photographs could just as easily be striated moonscapes dotted with craters. The sculptures are entirely unrecognizable in the photos; instead, the artists intentionally obfuscate the works so that strange angles are pictured with no sense of scale. Some images reveal the occasional dash of colour, owing to an abraded surface layer. The photos are continuously projected, with each image displayed for a brief 20 seconds before moving on. At the opening reception, the artists noted that they aimed for quantity rather than paying particular attention to the details of the photographs. In the photos, it’s all angles and textures, creating an industrial aesthetic that complements their imagined city. The close-ups contribute to a sense of fragmentation that runs throughout the exhibition space. While the artists’ aim for quantity of photographs successfully conveys a transitory feeling central to the show, I nonetheless find myself drawn to the photographic details. I find myself wondering just how large the sculptures really are, and what shape they take. The close-up photographs play their part well. The images are projected onto unevenly hung screens that seem to ripple in a non-existent breeze. I can almost feel the soft wind on my face, but, of course, it isn’t really there. The screens’ spectral character echoes the ghosts of the pictured sculptures, which are rightfully absent from the exhibition. The softness of the screens combined with the hard concrete blocks reflects the artists’ statement, which describes how the exhibition “investigates the stability of these seemingly fixed, concrete limits, proposing instead that the city’s

Jen Aitken and Aryen Hoekstra: Archaeological Infrastructures, rope, cinder blocks, ropes and projector screens

demarcations are imprecise and illusory.” There is certainly an element of transition that permeates the show. Aitken tells me the screens may also recall construction tarps. Temporary by nature, construction sites highlight the transformation of larger urban topographies. Further working to this effect, extension cords and power bars are left in plain sight, creating sinuous pathways for visitors to navigate their way through the exhibition. The projectors and media players placed atop cinder blocks take on an architectural aesthetic of their own. Aside from the projectors, the installation consists of only three materials: rope, cinder blocks, and projector screens. The simplicity of materials is important to the artists as it points to the formal elements of the installation. Aitken and Hoekstra met while

completing their MFAs at Guelph University. Both artists lead individual practices, but it is Hoekstra who brings his filmic projections and his interest in formalism to the exhibition, while Aitken incorporates her signature sustained contemplation and her ability to render familiar materials ambiguous. Together, their practices combine to make for a strong exhibition with many complementary layers at play. According to the artists’ statement, “George Steiner wrote that, ‘it is not the past that dominates us, it is images of the past,’ and similarly cities are haunted by their ruins; afterimages of formerly imagined utopias that both produce and are produced by their own signification.” The built environments we encounter every day are effectively constructed in Archaeological Infrastructures, but through an imaginary lens. And it is fiction that can perhaps open up more possibilities than reality ever can. Archaeological Infrastructures is on from April 22 – June 3, 2016 at the Forest City Gallery. Artist talk with Jen Aitken and Aryen Hoekstra and online publication launch: Thursday, May 26th 7:00-8:30 p.m. 05.12.16

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l ook at t h i s Gary Spearin: Quiet Illusion, oil on canvas, diptych, 72”x 144”, 2015

Exoplanetary Visions at the Judith and Norman Alix Gallery by Nida Home Doherty

The 116 kilometer drive over

the flat yet calming stretch of highway from London to Sarnia, passing through the long streaming line of light greys and browns of the early spring landscape, only serves to make the experience of viewing Gary Spearin’s exhibition, OO, currently showing at the Judith and Norman Alix Gallery, even more impactful. When positioned in the middle of the exhibition room, which was restructured for Spearin’s work, we are immersed in the vivid landscapes of six large (7 ft. x 14 ft.) acrylic paintings. Individually and collectively, the paintings immediately create a sense of groundlessness, replaced instead by moments of detached levitation. The body becomes unhinged from its gravitational pull, and even the mind to body connection becomes loosened. At times we feel as if floating in a vast open space, somewhere beyond earth itself. Drifting in and out of consciousness and feelings of solidity, in each paint-

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ing we connect with two large orbital spheres, which create their own dynamics against the vast landscape beyond, and in turn, impact our perceptions and relationship to the landscape. A dreamlike awareness floods the brain, and we pass into the warped time of otherworldliness, other atmospheres. As we move from painting to painting, diverse emotions sweep over us, spanning feelings from the domestic and comfortable to the apocalyptic and nightmarish. From within such deep and dramatic emotion, a narrative emerges. We are immediately drawn to the painting entitled Quiet Illusion. As with all the paintings in this exhibition, the two large orbital balls that float between us and the vast landscape are rendered in strong contrasting colours. In this painting, the two circular forms,

painted in deep blues and purples, cling to the top of the picture plane. Looped bands woven firmly around the spheres, appearing to hold them together, also

The body becomes unhinged from its gravitational pull, and even the mind to body connection becomes loosened. At times we feel as if floating in a vast open space, somewhere beyond earth itself

create a sense of stability. The pastel colours in the background have a calming effect. The evenly dabbed and fannedout pattern effect of the brush strokes that cover the spheres and the background further this tranquility. We long to stay here in this vast undisturbed quiet. The patterned edges of all the

paintings, but in this picture more than the others, create a carpet-like frame, and the bold spheres appear not unlike a skein of yarn that has quietly fallen upon the living-room carpet. As we move on to Orbital Signal, something unsettling seems to be happening. The balls have expanded and shifted position, and are now detached from their settling place. A light from some unknown source illuminates them, which, in turn, brightens areas of the background. The bands have become loosened somewhat, and the pastel colours of the atmosphere behind the orbits are of hotter reds and oranges. The swirling effect of the brush strokes raises the pulse. The orbital spheres now appear to be pulling against each other as they separate. We move on to Orbital Rodeo. The background has become tumultuous with aggravated and zigzag brush strokes and murky colours. The bands, painted in unnatural fluorescent green, are resting precariously on

Photos: Toni Hafkenscheid

Orbital Signal, oil on canvas, diptych, 70”x 140”, 2015

the surface of the orbiting forms. The forms themselves are painted in jagged brushstrokes and vivid contrasting colours, further reflecting an atmosphere in extreme upheaval, with threatening masses of movement and areas of ominous darkness. The heart beats faster now and there is a sense of things out of control. In Shadows Shadow, the bands still hold the spheres together but one of the spheres has become larger than the other, and each of the spheres is deeply marked by a dark crater. The landscape background has become darkness in

this painting, and light radiates from the larger sphere. Seemingly powerful and mysterious forces are at work, as the atmosphere is poised to move in an undetermined destructive direction. An electrified, textured surface of jagged lines dance across the entire surface of the background in Mirror, Mirror. The lines of light stand pronounced against contrasting areas of darkness. A larva-like effect of thick paint streaked with mainly bright oranges and yellows covers the surface of one sphere and a hot red covers the other, diminishing the strength of the

Orbital Rodeo, oil on canvas, diptych, 70”x 140”, 2015

now singular band left binding the two spheres. The breath draws deeply and a great sense of despair enters. Finally, we are pulled towards the atmospheric landscape painting entitled, Breathe Breathe. Our view is as if looking down on a massive landscape from a god-like perspective. In this work the orbits are becoming swallowed up in a thick, swirling, gaseous, red colour that appears to be emanating from a turbulent and blazing landscape background. The bands around the spheres are dissolving into the brilliance of the heat radiating from within the balls themselves.

It’s all we can do to catch a breath against the heat of the melting orbits. A sense of panic surfaces, as a hellish, fiery painting starts to engulf us. The drive home is one of thoughtful meditation, while passing through a landscape of green and brown fields and patches of yellow dandelions, with quiet, elevated appreciation. Gary Spearin: OO Paintings continues to July 10, 2016 Judith & Norman Alix Art Gallery 147 Lochiel St., Sarnia, ON (519) 336-8127 http://www.jnaag.ca/

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ri p l a s h

Moi J’ai Quitté Mon Pays Bleu If I ever do leave London, a place I have lived in since I was six years old, I would have a hard time saying goodbye to a few things I am fond of by Jason Rip

suspect that a lot of people who grew up during the ‘70s had Roger Whittaker’s Greatest Hits album lying around. As well as an alluring bass voice, Roger had a reputation as one of the world’s greatest whistlers. Probably his biggest hit was Durham Town,

an English translation of the French song Mon Pays Bleu. This classic song of regret and nostalgia sees its protagonist looking back at their homeland/hometown and lamenting that they could never really say goodbye. I’ll admit that I’ve had thoughts of leaving London many times over the years. I’ve been told that Guelph might be more up my alley and, as a much younger man, I even scouted out Vancouver for a while. Being an introvert with a limited need for socialization, a small town would suit me well (I actually lived and taught in Tillsonburg for a year.) I have even contemplated going Walden, living on lichens in the backwoods. There are many things that have kept me here: a fascination with the Souwesto regionalism of James Reaney, Greg Curnoe, and others; an unwillingness to start all over again; and, of course, pure cowardice: the Hell you know versus the Hell you don’t. If I ever do leave London, a place I have lived in since I was six years old, I would have a hard time saying goodbye to a few of these things I am fond of:

THE SMELL OF HOPS IN THE MORNING

I think it’s called “nose blindness,” the fact that you can’t tell how badly you, your room, and your home smell. If you get anywhere near London’s downtown, you can start to smell boiled hops. The Labatt’s brewery is, in effect, the rearview mirror pine tree of London. It is not a bad smell per se, but it is omnipresent. We also seem to have a lot of smoking manholes: subterranean witches making jambalaya far below the street.

THE MARKET AS OASIS

I spend a lot of time writing in the Covent Garden Market and have never witnessed anything untoward happen there. It is clean, beautiful, and Heavenlike. The Market probably has the best security people in the world. While the body of downtown can be scary, its navel is very clean.

SPAGHEDDY EDDY’S

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You’ve got to have a place. The Jason Rip special is spaghetti with two portions sausage and two portions extra cheese.

A restaurant this good should not be easy to find and so Eddy’s is situated at the back of a weird alley. There are many reasons why they have weathered the

FESTIVAL CITY

Everyone who leaves London is going to say they miss the Festivals. Not only is Victoria Park resplendent over the holidays, it hosts those great festivals. Although I jokingly refer to Sun Fest as Festival of People Who Are In Your Way, it is a phenomenal success story. The Home County Festival was a part of my childhood and a part of my present. Joke: I’m so old that I can remember when it wasn’t Valdy playing Home County, it was Vivaldi!

OLD EAST VILLAGE Lithograph Poster, 1867, Western Archives, Western University

Boiled hops — not a bad smell per se, but it is omnipresent

decades: you never leave hungry; the bread is lowered in a makeshift gallows; and the food is comforting and delicious. As a non-drinker, I have never really been comfortable in bars. Spagheddy Eddy’s is my place.

THE RIVER

When I was boy, we didn’t have video games and cell phones. We had creeks and rivers and crayfish buckets. My whole life has been devoted to bodies of water below the magnitude of a sea. From canoeing with my father to actually drunkenly swimming across it with my Grade 12 friend Heath to my first kiss by the old Polish Club, a river has always run through my hometown.

A LIMITED AMOUNT OF PEOPLE TO GIVE YOU LIMITED ATTENTION

The Grand Theatre has never shown any interest in what I do and more people will attend one London Knights game then will attend all the plays I do in a year, but if London is not a town that embraces its artists, at least it is possible to get noticed. After 20 years of telling local stories, I basically have the same 200 supporters. The London press has always been very good to me. The man I ran shoulder to shoulder with for many years, Jayson McDonald, seems to be doing alright on the West Coast but I am plunked down here for now. I once told my father there would be a statue of me in London after I was gone. He said it wasn’t likely.

I am a resident of this phoenix of a neighbourhood which I have come to love very much. So many unique shops and people, all glazed over with a delightful layer of quirkiness. I love that I have to sidestep a toaster walking down the sidewalk. I love that I frequently see a guy on a bike escorting another rider-less bike. Wortley is nice enough (although it closes early) but I prefer Old East Village for sheer colour and character.

A RICH AND PERMEATING HISTORY

If people only knew the history of the streets they walk on every day. Time is a ribbon that can fold in on itself so I sometimes like to imagine the rich pageant of past Londons. Richmond and Fullarton, for instance, an entire boiler factory exploded there. The Donnelly stagecoach used to travel up and down Richmond Row. History leaves its residual dust. It’s fodder for another article, but there are, of course, things about London that I would not miss much. I am convinced that Londoners drive very poorly, a problem compounded by enough potholes to make London an official suburb of the moon. I wouldn’t say we’re exactly back-slapping friendly and, with the exception of hockey, we don’t really get out there and support the local talent. This, more than anything else, is what might make me wipe my shoes at the city gate and head off for new pastures – unless I get a hankering for some spaghetti.

t he p ur s ui t o f h a p p i n e s s

Heading East in Search of the Best We had travelled several hours and were starting to think that a trip planned immediately after the phrase, “Should we open a fourth bottle?” may not have been as well-conceived as originally thought by Jeffrey Schiller

ecently someone asked

me if I considered myself a “foodie”. I have pondered whether or not this label fits over the years, especially when I noticed I have at least seven types of vinegar in my cupboard. Sure, I love to cook, I love to eat and know the difference between “sou vide” and “meunière” but really, another label? Perhaps I would more accurately be described as a “culinary adventurist”. Or perhaps – a label by which I often refer to myself – “pursuer of all things happy”. Whatever the term, I think Sir Winston Churchill best phrased my philosophy: “I am easily satisfied with the very best”. I admit it, I like the best, in fact, I like the very best. Don’t get me wrong I like good, I am sometimes satisfied with okay and often times I can endure mediocre but life is too short to settle. Truth betold, I can be a bit snobbish. Truly and without apology I say, “I want the very best”. That’s it, nothing more, nothing less and much like Winston, I am easily satisfied with it. The challenge of course is not so much in enjoying the very best. I find it quite easy to enjoy a great steak, a smooth Cuban and any red wine from the southern Rhone Valley. The challenge lies in finding the very best. A challenge I happily and aggressively seek. I suppose that’s how the whole adventure began. Sitting around with friends, a glass of scotch, some wine, some more wine, okay maybe a little more wine, (as my daughter would say, ‘Don’t judge me”) and of course some lively discussion on what constituted the very best in any number of categories. We covered a large array of “best ofs”

that night, not to mention a large array of wines. The evening ended in an ambitious plan to travel from our home base right here in London Ontario to the east coast, finishing up on Prince Edward Island, all in search of the very best. The very best restaurant, inn, bed & breakfast, fried clams, potatoes, poutine and anything else we could think of. Ambitious? Certainly but we felt we were up to the challenge. The plan was simple enough; London to Mount Tremblant, then to SaintJean-Port-Joli, Miramichi NB, North Rustico PEI, Charlottetown, Fredericton and finally Old Quebec City before heading home to recuperate. The goal was even easier, eat, drink and sleep. More specifically, eat the very best eastern Canada has to offer, drink the very best and enjoy some great places to stay. Many people assume the “very best” means “the most expensive,” “fine dining,” “over the top.” For me that is not always the case. Sometimes, just sometimes, the very best is that small, off the beaten path, hidden treasure. This was certainly the case at our first stop for the night, just shy of Mount Tremblant. We had already travelled several hours and were just starting to think that perhaps a trip planned immediately after the phrase, “Should we open a fourth bottle?” may not have been as well-conceived as originally thought. Luckily, Hotel Le Boisé du lac was just around the corner.

Hotel Le Boisé

is located on a small lake about ten minutes from Mount Tremblant. Our first thoughts being … what is the word? Yes, “quaint” … we had our concerns. Soon enough the owner, Julie put our minds at ease. Julie was expecting us. Sure, we had made reservations and given her our credit card information but somehow I got the feeling Julie was . . . well, “expecting” us. She was truly glad to see us. She was very concerned that we were a couple hours late and was relieved to finally have us arrive. I am not sure how to refer to Hotel Le Boisé. Is it a resort? Perhaps a motel? It feels like it should be the backdrop to a Dirty Dancing sequel. I picture my parents and their friends staying

One of The Best: Hotel Le Boisé du lac on the shores of Lake Duhamel near Mont Tremblant

here back in 60’s. Blue, steel Coleman cooler on the picnic table, barrel of Humpty Dumpty chips to the side, A.M. radio playing the hits. The paneling and pine, not to mention the carpeting, were probably here as my father carried in the bags for a summer getaway at what was surely “the place to stay” in 1960. I can see them now, dancing on the patio under the lanterns that still hang from the rusted poles. We settled into our room that was meticulously clean and recently renovated in 1975. The bed, beautifully made up with the very same spread that adorned the cover of the 1968 Sears catalogue, paid homage to the history of the “resort” itself. Julie, our gracious and extremely polite hostess gave us a tour. Her pride and excitement hard to hide, she shared some history, she pointed out the amazing view, the recent addition of paddle boats at the lake (free to all paying guests) and the recent improvements they made. Although I was not sure our respective definitions of “recent” were aligned, she and her husband had been doing their best to continually improve. It rained a heavy, soaking rain that evening. Occasional lightning, rolling thunder in the distance, a good oldfashioned thunderstorm that, somehow, seemed fitting. We sat on the balcony that evening, protected in part by the wooden deck above, the occasional rain drop finding its way through. Joanne in an old Adirondack, Ruth in a plastic deck chair, myself in an old metal and plastic kitchen chair, Adrian sitting precariously on some sort of folding chair. We shared a glass of wine with

our leftover sandwiches and reviewed the day, the trip so far, and what it was, exactly, we were looking for. The goal was “the best” – the “very best” – and on our first stop, on our first night we had found it. Right here, sitting on the old wooden deck of the Hotel Le Boisé in the rain, sipping wine from a glass that was anything but Riedel, eating sandwiches that were anything but an p original Katz.

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t hea tre space

Kangaroo Variety

Downtown London’s live monthly magazine

by Adam Corrigan Holowitz

The

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night of April 30th was strong rebuke to the defeatist’s stereotype that London is a sleepy backwards town. The blocks between York Street and Dundas Street were full of exciting artistic community merry making. The night started for me at The ARTS Project where the opening reception of the Ting Festival was happening. The Ting Festival (on until May 21) is celebration of regional graphic artists and a tribute to the great editorial cartoonist Merle Tingley. The ARTS Project has an exciting air about the place these days. I suspect this is partly thanks to the great energy of TAP’s new board president Sid Wilson and the tireless work of the staff: Sandra DeSalvo, Moira McKee and Chris White. In a brilliant example of community cooperation The ARTS Project approached Brown and Dickson Book Sellers to present an installment of their Kangaroo Variety event, following the Ting Reception. This is the fourth edition of Kangaroo Variety and this one had a Ting Festival focus to it. Kangaroo Variety is described as being a live magazine. It is the brainchild of Vanessa Brown and Jason Dickson. The pair wanted to put together a monthly magazine but, as Jason Dickson puts it, they didn’t want to take the trouble to publish it. So they perform it live. The show takes place in UnLondon’s 121 Studios,

which also houses Brown and Dickson. The building is better known to Londoners as the old Novack’s Building. I have been wanting to write about Kangaroo Variety for a while now. It is not strictly a theatre event but it is a performance. The show is a serial event and new editions of the show are presented monthly. This fourth installment of the show gave an opportunity for me

Downtown London has lost a lot of businesses but make no mistake — the buildings are not empty. The community is banding together and taking over these landmarks

to give a review of what goes on. If you close your eyes and listen to Kangaroo Variety, you would be forgiven for thinking that you were listening to an NPR broadcast. There is the eclecticism in the show that one associates with radio programs like This American Life or Europe’s Monocle Radio. Except with Kangaroo Variety all the segments are about London Ontario and the show is live, not a broadcast, so you have to be there in the room to catch it. The evening began with an excellent inter-

view conducted by Jason Dickson with artist Aidan Urquhart. Urquhart is one of the featured Ting Festival artists. Urquhart calls his work art terrorism. In his early days he would poster telephone poles with images he had created and sticker buses with his art work. There is a trickster sensibility to his work. He told the crowd an amusing story about faxing his artwork to major art galleries and getting one irate response from a particular curator. Dickson has some great interviewing skills. The quality of the questions and the depth of the conversation reminded me of a time when the CBC featured interviewers like Michael Enright, Peter Gzowski and Barbara Frum. A theme emerged in the selection of guests for the evening. The magazine featured artists who have made their own niches and created their own scene. After Urquhart the next guest was Harina Mokanan who was interviewed by Savanah Sewell. Mokanan’s production company Empyrean has been hard at work creating a dynamic nightlife and club scene in London. She presents club events that feature music that is culturally diverse; music that is not found on the top 40 charts. There were also some wonderfully entertaining segments. The featured couple of the evening was Gord and Carol Mood, of

the comic store LA Mood. They were assigned with an enviable task. They had to sit at a table at the front of the room and sample fine food from Che Resto Bar and give intermittent reviews throughout the night. Next Titus Ferguson and Chris Hachey shared their findings on the “lonely web”. The lonely web refers to content on the internet that no one has seen; and there is a lot of unseen content. This includes Twitter accounts with no followers, YouTube videos with no views, and SoundCloud uploads with no listens. The start of their piece was fun and clever with a great many laughs but soon their survey of ignored content provoked some heavy questions about loneliness, isolation and the complacency of human beings. The undisputed highlight of the evening was Vanessa Brown’s son Jack’s ghost hunter video. The combination of boredom, an iPhone and the unfettered imagination of a five year led to a hilarious and brilliant salute to ghost hunting videos. The host for the night was Savanah Sewell of UnLondon. Sewell commented on how earlier in the day she had said to Vanessa Brown that 121 Studios might not always be in the particular building it is in right now. But for the time being there are wonderful things happening and it is worth

Photos: ADAM CORRIGAN HOLOWITZ

Aidan Urquhart [centre], one of the featured Ting Festival artists, interviewed by Jason Dickson at the Kangaroo Variety

enjoying while it lasts. Attending Kangaroo Variety I had the sense that I was seeing something special happen. These kind of events are what become part of the artistic lore of this city. Attending Kangaroo Variety is what I imagine attending events at the fabled Alpha Centre may have felt like. It speaks to the health of our city’s culture that artists, curators and creative entrepreneurs can inhabit the downtown buildings once frequented by businesses and make something exciting happen in them. As I sat in the upper floor of the old Novak’s store looking at the still intact periscope which I loved as child,

I thought of how coral reefs quickly grow in shipwrecks. Downtown London has lost a lot of businesses but make no mistake - the buildings are not empty. The community is banding together and taking over these landmarks. They are creating wholly welcoming and beautiful events like Kangaroo Variety. Take advantage of it while it lasts. Another instalment happens every month. I hope and would lay down some money that Kangaroo Variety will last for a good long while.

Harina Mokanan and members of Empyrean interviewed by Savanah Sewell

To find out when the next Kangaroo Variety is check out Brown and Dickson on Facebook. Or pay them at visit at: 211 King Street or call 519-318-1983.

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sounds r azor

The Chernobyl Wolves

by Sean Twist

The

Chernobyl Wolves pace around the Exclusion Zone, eyes glittering with more than intelligence. At night, their eyes track the radiation drifting across the empty fields and playgrounds. They see the poison like glowing waveforms, and they know to avoid them. They also know what a waveform is. That, and much more. Poachers in the Exclusion Zone sit around small taverns, reeking of radiation and cowardice, sharing tales of finds and horrors. Those who mention hearing the wolves howl back in the Nineties – of how their piercing shrieks sounded oddly like dial up internet – are often never seen again. At least, not in one piece.

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London’s Goodwill Team stepped off the train at Slavutych Station, all smiles and optimism. Melody took a selfie with her phone with a positive ‘thumbs up’ and posted it to her Facebook. She threw in three smiling face emoticons, just to be safe. The other half of the Goodwill Team, Alonso, eschewed Facebook because it was for the plebes and breeders. Instead, he posted on Twitter and Instagrammed himself in profile by the decaying platform, making sure to get his manly stubble in the right light. “Wasn’t someone supposed to meet us?” Melody asked, putting her phone away. “These guys are working on Russian time,” Alonso said. He was a man of the world and knew things

like that. He had the most upvotes on r/worldpolitics over on Reddit to prove it. “I just thought someone would be here to meet us.” Melody looked around at the empty tracks and abandoned box cars and her optimism shone just a little less bright. She opened her fanny pack for a Valium. “Hey, they got Tinder over here,” Alonso smiled at his phone. Wolves know many things. They know when to trust, and when to never trust again. They know when to kill, and when to let prey escape. They know many things, and are always learning. But one of the things they know best is revenge. The truck had arrived an hour later just as the sun began to set. Melody had lost track of the emails she had sent back to City Hall in London. She had used lots of exclamation points and question marks in the subject lines. Even Alonso was beginning to get worried, especially when he saw a wolf watching them from the fence line to the east. A grizzled man with a homemade cigarette and an eye for the curve of Melody’s bust leered from the driver’s side window. “You are the Canadians?” he asked “Yes, uh-huh,” Melody answered, trying to smile. Make a good first impression and stuff. “We’re supposed to meet with someone called Nikolai?” Alonso asked. “We’re here to co-ordinate

transporting some animals from the Exclusion Zone back to London. Are you Nikolai?” “Okay, sure, I’m Nikolai,” the driver said. “Get in truck. We go.” The wolves had changed since Chernobyl fell. Many had died. Packs gone forever, their stories no longer shared when the moon watched above the twisted branches of the dead forests. The remaining packs found most of these changes served no purpose other than cruelty. Pups born wrong were either cared for or had their story

Melody looked around at the empty tracks and abandoned box cars and her optimism shone just a little less bright. She opened her fanny pack for a Valium.

ended. But some changes, once understood, had use. After destroying their homes and loved ones, the humans had left. Of course they had. They always did. The wolves had returned and had paid the price for their loyalty. But they now could see the new home the humans were making for themselves. A new place for their packs to gather and tell their stories. And the wolves found they could go there, too. Their eyes flashing green with

HTML, the wolves planned their revenge. Alonso had sat in the middle of the truck seat, his crotch in perilous line to the gear stick. He hoped Melody appreciated that. The Russian clearly didn’t. They drove down a pitted road, the only light coming from one headlamp on the old Soviet truck. A KRAZ 255B1. Alonso had Googled it. “So why is this London to want our animals?” Nikolai asked. Melody piped up. “Well, we have this park in London? For kids? With nursery characters and stuff. And it’s not doing so good. So our City Hall – our bosses – thought we could turn it into a zoo but for rescued animals from bad areas. So people can come pay to see them and not feel bad?” “So this is why you come to Chernobyl?” “Yup.” Alonso’s phone chimed. He frowned. “Huh. I just got over 200 downvotes on Reddit.” He peered at this screen. “Wait. All my posts on Reddit just got 200 downvotes. Every single one.” He looked up. “Jesus.” Melody’s phone chimed. “Oh my God. Someone just posted that I sleep in my own pee on my Facebook page. In all caps. What if my boyfriend sees that?” Nikolai said nothing. Off to the side of the truck, he

pretended not to see the wolves running along in the forest beside them, their eyes emerald and intent. The wolves were the first trolls on the internet. Howling to connect to the Net, they roamed message boards, virtual fangs tearing. They posted pictures of empty amusement parks on Facebook. They learned the art of downvoting on Reddit, and the pain it could cause. When subtlety was needed, the Chernobyl Wolves created political correctness and let it loose one cold winter morning. They were particularly proud of that one. The truck was lost. They had tried Google Maps but it just showed a wolf wearing Groucho Marx glasses. Shortly thereafter, they lost all internet access. Then the truck ran out of gas. All three stood shivering in the cold “Whose idea was this, to come here?” Nikolai asked. Melody shivered. “It was a group thing? A Kickstarter? Our mayor liked the idea.” Alonso nodded. “A Kickstarter?” Nikolai nodded. He knew now the end was near. “Of course. Grebanyee volki.” “Did you just say ‘fucking wolves?” Melody asked. In the distance, a dial up modem howl split the night.

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music & c lu b s

ENTIRE ESTATES · ALL ANTIQUES LP RECORDS · PAIN TINGS · ETC

519 494 2220 s p o t l ight

The LONDON MUSIC CLUB's 12th Birthday Party with Pete Denomme & The Cosmic Cowboys

Photo: xplosure.ca

I BUY YOUR CLUTTER

Come celebrate another fantastic year as Pete & the full band rock the Big Hall with familiar tunes that will have you dancing & singing all night long! SATURDAY, May 21, 2016 Tickets $12 (LMC Members Free) Show @ 8:30pm 470 Colborne St., London ON 519-640-6996 34 the london yodeller

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12 MAY THURSDAY AEOLIAN HALL Royal Wood, 7pm, $30 adv, $35 door LONDON MUSIC CLUB Seve Dawson, 7:30pm, $20 adv, $25 door THE WORTLEY Frank Risdale 8pm 13 MAY FRIDAY AEOLIAN HALL Royal Wood 7pm, $30 adv, $35 door EASTSIDE BAR & GRILL After Midnight 10pm LONDON MUSIC CLUB Enchanté & Celtic Shift 4pm, PWYC - sugg $10 / Micah Barnes 7pm, $10 adv, $15 door LONDON MUSIC HALL David Wilcox 7pm, $30 NORMA JEAN'S Full Throttle FREE RICHMOND TAVERN The Mojo and Open Air 10pm THE WORTLEY Bucket List 10pm YUK YUK'S Jeff Elliott 8pm, $19.92, 19+ 14 MAY SATURDAY BUDWEISER GARDENS Jason Aldean 6:30pm, $57-77 EASTSIDE BAR & GRILL Blind Dog Joe 10pm LONDON MUSIC CLUB Danny Michel 6:30pm, $25 adv, $30 door / Hervana Unplugged wsg Taylor Holden 9pm, $10 adv, $12 door NORMA JEAN'S Hot Tub Hippies $4 THE WORTLEY Bucket List 10pm YUK YUK'S Jeff Elliott 8pm, $19.92, 19+ 15 MAY SUNDAY CHAUCER'S PUB Scallywag 7:30pm, $15 adv, $18 door WOLF PERFORMANCE HALL Lara Solnicki Quartet 3pm, tickets available at Grand Theatre box office 16 MAY MONDAY LONDON MUSIC HALL Enter Shikari, 6:30pm, $20 18 MAY WEDNESDAY AEOLIAN HALL Jason Collett 7pm, $23 adv, $26 door CALL THE OFFICE The Copyrights/ The Lippies/ Ray Rocket/ The Penske File/ Snacks? 8pm, $10 door, 19+ 19 MAY THURSDAY BUDWEISER GARDENS Frankie Valli & The Four Seasons, 6:30pm, $65.50 - 127.50 LONDON MUSIC CLUB Larry Smith, 8pm, $5 cover 20 MAY FRIDAY AEOLIAN HALL Spring Fling with The Prime Time Big Band, 7pm, $23 adv, $18 students, $26 door CALL THE OFFICE Belvedere/ La Armada, 9pm, $12, 19+ EASTSIDE BAR & GRILL Bender, 10pm LONDON MUSIC CLUB Poetry Slam, 7pm, $5 NORMA JEAN'S Kate Channer Band, FREE THE WORTLEY Geoff Masse Band, 10pm 21 MAY SATURDAY AEOLIAN HALL The John Tank Band, 7pm, $23 adv, $26 door

DUTCH CANADIAN CLUB Dick Williams presents Saturday Night Hop. Dance to the Hits of the ‘60s. Tom Cat Prowl, Incontinentals, John Bellone, Frankly Scarlett. 8pm - midnight, $15. 519-455-7170 EASTSIDE BAR & GRILL Askher, 10pm LONDON MUSIC CLUB Pat Maloney/ Carly Thomas/ Annie Sumi/ Rose-Erin Stokes, 7:30pm, $10 NORMA JEAN'S Incognitos, FREE THE WORTLEY Geoff Masse Band, 10pm 23 MAY MONDAY BUDWEISER GARDENS Selena Gomez, 6:30pm, $52.50 - 92.50

t h e at r e ARTS PROJECT 1-900-DEE-LITE Dee is not your average grandmother. When she gets a special man in her life, she is faced with a question – how to tell him she’s a phone sex operator. While Dee struggles with her secret, her son Scott is facing his own questions about love and friendship. With one failed marriage behind him, moving forward and taking a chance on love will not be easy. 2pm & 8pm, $20, $10 student AYLMER THEATRE KNICKERS The paper mill that long propped up the economy of Elliston Falls has been shut down, sending the town spiralling into an economic depression. When a chipper but overwhelmed tourism officer arrives to lend a hand, she discovers an unlikely business partnership in the three brassy friends that make up the local chapter of Weight Watchers. 2pm & 8pm, $18, $10 student, Til May 14 BUDWEISER GARDENS CIRQUE DU SOLEIL: TORUK THE FIRST FLIGHT A world beyond imagination set thousands of years ago. Toruk, the mighty red and orange predator that rules the Pandoran sky is central in Na’vi lore and culture. This fascinating creature is crucial to the Na’vi clans’ sense of destiny and interconnectedness – and is about to be ridden for the very first time by a Na’vi. Various times, $34-137, May 25-29 MCMANUS STUDIO HEATHERS: THE MUSICAL Sometimes high school can feel like life and death, and for Veronica Sawyer it is no different. At Westerburg High it is a clash of the cliques, with no group more worshipped or feared than the infamous plastic paragons The Heathers. But what happens when shy and studious Veronica joins up with this group of vapid and vicious trend setters at the top of the high school food chain? 2pm & 8pm, $25, Til May 14 ORIGINAL KIDS THEATRE G2K ONCE UPON A MATTRESS Carried on a wave of beguiling songs, by turns hilarious and raucous,

romantic and melodic, this rollicking spin on the familiar classic of royal courtship and comeuppance provides for some side-splitting shenanigans. Chances are, you'll never look at fairy tales quite the same way again. Various times, $11-16, May 12-15 / ANYTHING GOES: YOUNG PERFORMERS' EDITION A classic Boy-Meets-Girl story full of intrigue and comedy! This brand new adaptation, designed specifically for young performers, is a wacky story told at sea, wrapped around Cole Porter’s magical scores. Various times, $11-16 PALACE THEATRE I TAKE YOUR HAND IN MINE This short two-character play is based on the love letters of Russian playwright Anton Chekhov and his famous actress wife, Olga Knipper. Eloquent and moving, the play is a brilliant dramatization of this creative couple and their relationship. Matinee: May 15, 2pm, all other show times 8pm, $22, $20 student/senior, May 12 - 14 & 18 - 21 / PRESENT LAUGHTER A comedy about a few days in the life of a successful and self-obsessed matinee idol. He deals with a series of very funny events as he works to overcome his impending midlife crisis. May 15 & 22, 2pm, May 12-14 & 18-21, 8pm, $12, May 12-22 STRATFORD FESTIVAL THEATRE A CHORUS LINE On stage, they move as one. But each member of that glittering line has a unique history of hope and heartbreak, revealed in the life stories they share in this inspiring musical masterpiece. 2pm, $25 - 139.05, Til Oct 30 / SHAKESPEARE IN LOVE A young playwright named Will Shakespeare comes down with writer’s block – until he finds a muse. Art mirrors life in a hilarious and passionate tale of romance and backstage fun. 2pm & 8pm, $20-97.34, Til Oct 16 / MACBETH Surrender to a haunting story of ambition and its dark consequences, as a military hero and his wife conspire to seize the throne of Scotland. 2pm, 7:30pm, & 8pm, $20 - $139.05, Til Oct 23 / AS YOU LIKE IT Romance goes undercover in this beloved comedy of surprises, disguises and cross-dressing antics – and you get to play too. 2pm & 8pm, $12.50 - 74.93 / A LITTLE NIGHT MUSIC On a magical midsummer night, lovers old and new are swept up in a dizzying whirl of romance. 2pm & 8pm, $25 - 113.75, May 21 - Oct 23 VICTORIA PLAYHOUSE PETROLIA SCOTLAND SINGS With glorious songs, the grandeur of the bagpipe, toe-tapping music of the fiddle, and the reels of Highland fun and frolic, this show will transplant you into the heart of Scotland…without the airfare. 2pm & 8pm, Starting at $34, Til May 20

ga ller i es & museums AEOLIAN HALL NEW CANVAS OF LIFE: THE ART OF TRANSPLANTATION Closing: May 25, 6:30 - 8:30pm, Til May 25 THE ART EMPORIUM Featured Artists for May: Jacqueline Kinsey, Debra Baker, Edser Thomas, Randy Bloye, Nathan Hiller, Debra Kubu. Reception is May 15 2 - 4pm, The Art Emporium Artists. Enjoy the company of our featured artists and the opportunity to learn about their art, techniques, motivations and stories.Refreshments and parking are free. Open 11-5 pm, Closed Tues, 177 Main St. Port Stanley THE ARTS PROJECT TING COMIC AND GRAPHIC ARTS FESTIVAL This four week celebration showcases the artwork of 11 comic and graphic artists from London and the greater Southwestern Ontario area. Free, Til May 21 / GARDEN PARTY A fundraising event featuring the creative talent of area sculptors, welders, floral designers and landscape artists. A live auction, as well as unique silent auction items, live music performed by London roots and alt-country band Five Oceans, signature cocktails and garden-themed hors d’oeuvres provided by North Moore Catering makes for a widely attended and incredibly fun evening! 6:30 9:30pm, $100, May 12 AYLMER MUSEUM AYLMER REMEMBERS WW1 Learn about the people, their experiences, and their lives 100 years later. Til May 27 DNA ARTSPACE NEGATIVE RAKE by Patrick Cull. The show’s title, Negative Rake, a technical term borrowed from woodworking and machining, foregrounds the cutting processes used to create this work. The woodcuts are engraved with chisels, and in turn the application of paint cuts out and delineates shapes. Reception: Sat Apr 30, 7-10pm, Til Jun 4 ELDON HOUSE FAMILY PHOTOS: THE HARRISES AT HOME Western Archives holds a huge collection of historic photographs attributed to the Harris family who lived at Eldon House. This exhibit will allow visitors an intimate view of the family, their home and their gardens. Throughout 2016 / THE LOST ART OF BOBBIN LACE Generations of women, such as those in the Harris family of Eldon House were “brought up to the pillow” creating intricate pieces of handmade lace that were soon replaced with machine-made products at the end of the Victorian era. As the first in a series on “women’s work”, this exhibit explores the rise and fall of an elaborate art form and illustrates the complicated process of creating bobbin lace. Til Jul, Interpretive Centre / TEDDY: A MILITARY GENTLEMAN The exhibition is the second in a

thurSDAY MAY 12 — wedNESDAY MAy 25 Send us your listing (25 words ma x ): info@londonyodeller.ca D e a d l i n e f o r m ay 2 6 – j u n e 8 i ss u e i s W e d NE S DAY m ay 1 8

Unique Home, Gifts and Accessories three-part series that explores the life of Edward Montgomery Harris. Beginning in 1900, after leaving school and joining the Commonwealth Armed Forces, this exhibition explores “Teddy’s” travels, through Britain, India and Canada and observes the life changes wrought by the loss of his mother and his marriage in the era leading up to the outbreak of World War I. Second Floor, Til Jul / THE FENIAN CONNECTION An illustration of how the “Fenian Raids” impacted those living in Upper Canada, through the diaries and letters of the Harris Family, while highlighting their own involvement in the defence of the empire. Til Sept 1st Elgin County Museum the life and legacy of sir arthur Currie Drawing from sources and materials relevant to his early life in rural Strathroy, Ontario, the exhibit considers the influence of his youth on his remarkable rise through the ranks from a militia gunner before the First World War, to become the first Canadian commander of the Canadian Expeditionary Force. The exhibit traces the humble roots of Canada's greatest military commander and celebrates his achievements and legacy as a source of national pride. M-F 10-4, and Saturdays after May 24, 4th floor, 450 Sunset Dr, St Thomas FANSHAWE PIONEER VILLAGE Spend a day in the 19th century at Fanshawe Pioneer Village opening for the 57th season. The past comes alive through daily demonstrations of trades, farming practices, domestic chores and social pastimes by costumed interpreters. Our 16 feature events celebrate the unique history and rural roots of this region during the 2016 season. Open: May 21

FOREST CITY GALLERY ARCHAELOGICAL INFRASTRUCTURE / JEN AITKEN & ARYEN HOEKSTRA Unearths the apparitional architecture of an imagined city. To mould a cityscape into a mimetic image of its ruling class is an exhaustive venture, yet because of this expense it covers the odds of outliving its investors. Til Jun 3 FRINGE CUSTOM FRAMING & GALLERY Inviting all artists to submit unique original artwork of all mediums to be rotated in the gallery for this 4 month summer showing period. Artists may submit multiple pieces that will be available for this time period, or a portion of this time period. April to July ILLUMINE GALLERY AWAKE Celebrate the end of the season of snows with bright colours and lively themes. Til May 21, St Thomas LAMBETH GALLERY PENCIL CRAYONS...BREAKING BARRIERS AND MISCONCEPTIONS featuring Christine Johnson. Her work shows her creativity and passion in her human portraits, endangered animal drawings, nature and spiritual works! Til May 30 LUCAN AREA HERITAGE & DONNELLY MUSEUM Open May - Oct, $5, Family (2 adults 2 children) $15, 171 Main St MCINTOSH GALLERY ANY DREAM WILL DO: Kim Moodie This exhibition will be the first time audiences will see these startling new perspectives on themes he has explored previously only in painting and drawing. Til May 14 / LEADING THE WAY: Early Canadian Women Artists During the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, women artists encountered

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Good Sport is a studio, exhibition and project space in downtown London ON nestled between the Forest City Gallery and N+1 Cycle. The current exhibition is new work by Angie Quick — A Study in Ruin Opening Reception: Friday May 13th 7-11 pm with a poetry reading by the artist at 9 pm 256 Richmond St., Unit 2 London, ON N6B 2H7 www.good-sport.ca

many obstacles in the pursuit of their artistic careers. As a result, they frequently chose subjects based on personal experience such as landscape, portraiture and still life and their work was consequently considered outside mainstream trends and attracted little attention. Til May 14 MICHAEL GIBSON GALLERY THE CUMULATIVE EFFECT by Roly Fenwick The sources of nature and inner spirit of the Canadian landscape. Til May 28 MUSEUM OF ONTARIO ARCHAEOLOGY SOUTHWESTERN ONTARIO: 13 000 YEARS IN THE MAKING Explore what life would have been like 13 000 years ago in Southwestern Ontario. Take the journey from the end of the ice age all the way through to contact with the European settlers. Ongoing exhibition MUSEUM LONDON PLAY TIME This exhibition will take visitors back to another time and remind us about the messages toys communicate. Til Aug 7 / A RIPPLE EFFECT: CANADIANS AND FRESH WATER A Ripple Effect examines the larger story of Canadians’ relationship with fresh water by focusing on the Thames, Speed, and Eramosa rivers. To Aug 14 / CANADA AT PLAY: 100 YEARS OF GAMES, TOYS, AND SPORTS In the dead of winter or the heat of summer, outside or inside, Canadian children have always worked hard to have fun! This exhibition examines our favourite games and toys over the past 130 years. Til May 15 / CHRONOLOGUES Issues of memory and time, through personal narratives and larger, shared histories. Works in diverse media re-visualize specific experiences or invite viewers to construct their own associations. Reception: May 13, 8pm, Til Aug 21 / TOMORROW EVERYTHING WILL BE ALRIGHT By Akram Zaatari Unearthing, collecting and recontextualizing documents that represent his country’s complex history. Reception: May 13, 8pm, May 14 - Sept 4 / REMEMBER WHEN An exhibition of souvenirs and mementos. May 21 - Sept 11 MUSEUM STRATHROY CARADOC CHARLOTTE RAPLEY The new Charlotte Rapley Gallery hosts a semipermanant local history exhibition detailing the history of Strathroy-Caradoc and its communities. Mon - Fri: 10am 8:30pm, Sat: 10am - 4pm, Sun: Closed, free, suggested $2 donation for guided tours, 34 Frank Street, Strathroy PETER ROBSON STUDIOS Renowned artist Peter Robson and custom framing centre. In the historic village of Sparta. 7 days a week. 519-775-2522 robsonstudios@rogers.com www.peterrobsonstudios.com ST THOMAS ART CENTRE COLOUR THEORY The blending of colours are a delight to the eye as your gaze moves from one artwork to the next. Colours have a language

of their own, and just as humans have relationships with one another, the same is true for colours. Til Jun 11 THIELSEN GALLERY REGIONAL HISTORIC EXHIBITION Featuring 28 watercolours by William St Thomas Smith. Til May 28 WESTLAND GALLERY JAMIE JARDINE & SHANE NORRIE, Reception: May 13, 7:30pm, Artist Talk: May 22, 1pm, Til May 28 WOODSTOCK ART GALLERY LASTING IMPRESSIONS: HISTORICAL EUROPEAN PRINTS A strong overview of the practice and skill of printmaking over the last 200 years. Til June / JOE LIMA AND WALTER REDINGER: UNLIMITED POSSIBILITIES Til Jul 2 / JOANNE VEGSON EXPLORATION WITH STILL LIFE Closing Reception: Jun 29, 5pm, Til Jul 2

special events EVERY MONDAY MONDAY NIGHT PINBALL Everyone is welcome at our weekly pinball tournament approved by the International Flipper Pinball Association. 8 - 11pm, No Cover, bring $ for pinball, Call the Office EVERY WEDNESDAY EUCHRE Prizes, Everyone Welcome, 1:15pm, 2755 Crumlin Rd. N. Royal Canadian Air Force Association

EVERY WEDNESDAY FREEBALL Unlimited play on our wall of pinball machines and classic arcade vids. Guest DJs and drink specials each week too! $5, 9pm, 19+ Call the Office 14 MAY SATURDAY VICTORIAN HERB SALE Join us for our first annual plant sale on the Eldon House boulevard and courtyard. Purchase heritage plants and herbs typical of the Victorian period including White Yarrow, English Chamomile, Bergamot, Horehound, English Lavender, Rosemary, Thyme, Garden Sage and more. 9am-2pm, $3.75 each, 3 for $10 or 6 for $18, Eldon House 18 MAY WEDNESDAY LONDON & MIDDLESEX HISTORICAL SOCIETY Speaker Jay Hunt on Hunt's Mills, operating from 1853 to 1957 on the south bank of the Thames River. Meeting at the Old Courthouse, 7:30pm, 399 Ridout St. N. 19 MAY THURSDAY HIDDEN HISTORY OF HAMILTON ROAD Please join fire historian Jim Fitzgerald as he discusses the Fire Department's alarm box system in the Hamilton Road area. 7pm, free, 519-455-4533, Crouch Branch Library May 21 Saturday Stephanie Worsfold Classic Fitness Competition Pre-Judging: 10am, Finals: 6pm, VIP Tickets (Prejudging/Finals) $58.00+S/C, Finals Only $47.00+S/C Centennial Hall

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21 & 22 MAY SATURDAY & SUNDAY SCOTLAND FOREVER - THE ROAD TO CULLODEN Step back in time to 1745, and follow ‘Bonnie Prince Charlie’ and his loyal Jacobite supporters as they march across Britain to reclaim the throne for the House of Stuart! Great Kilted Highlanders! French Noblemen! English Dukes and Redcoats too! Skirmishes, music, camp life displays, storytellers and more! Sat: 10am - 4pm, Sun: 9am - 4pm, $6, 12 and under free, 519-762-3072, Backus Page House Museum 23 MAY MONDAY QUEEN VICTORIA'S BIRTHDAY CELEBRATIONS Celebrate Her Majesty, Queen Victoria’s birthday. Join us for nineteenth century games and historical speeches all in reverence to our longest reigning monarch. Her majesty might even brave the sea journey to visit with her subjects in the Upper Canadian town of Fanshawe. 10am - 2pm, $7, Fanshawe Pioneer Village VICTORIA DAY PICNIC Meet royal guest Queen Victoria at Eldon House and enjoy Victorian games, lemonade and cookies on Eldon House grounds and gardens. Events will be held indoors in our Interpretive Centre if weather is inclement. 1-4pm, $8, 519-661-5169, Eldon House