"Good afternoon, Bear. Where were you this morning? I thought we had a date for early morning
when I do my walk, such as it is."
"It's the bloody snow," said Bear, looking very disgruntled,
"But Bear, we don't have any snow," said Bum, looking puzzled.
"I know, Bum, you know, and my master's wife knows, but my master has gotten it into his head that snow is coming and he must be prepared, on behalf of his wife, because he'll be away doing that course he gives in the U.S.A. When the snow storm hits, she'll be defenseless because he cannot find his snow shovel. It must've been stolen, he said. His wife didn't mention that she gave it to the Thrift as they haven't had snow in the Cove for years."
"Wait a minute, Bear. Your master's wife doesn't look strong enough to shovel snow so what will she do with a shovel?"
"That's what she said," said Bear,"but the master came right back that the young fellow next door can do the shoveling, for money of course, but he'll need a shovel. When the snow hits, there won't be a shovel to be found."
"Where did he get the idea that snow is coming, Bear. There's been nothing about it as a forecast on the radio," said Bum. Much ado about nothing, she thought.
Bear sighed and then said, "My master drove a friend of his up Seymour Mountain because his friend's girlfriend works there, has her car with her, but wanted the boyfriend to join her for dinner because she's getting a cut price because she works there."
"Your master surely realizes that they get snow at higher elevations, like on top of mountains, but it doesn't mean we'll get any snow at sea level," said Bum.
"He knows that, Bum, but he was more than half way back down the mountain when a small flurry of snow hit his windshield and he freaked He had visions of snow coming and he would be out of town and the rest you know about his paranoi about having a snow shovel at the ready.."
"Anyway, he took me with him to find a snow shovel and we visited many hardware stores before we found what he wanted. He thought perhaps two shovels would be best but the cost put him off. The salesman at the one place tried to talk him into a very expensive snow blower but even he wasn't that stupid. I thought we would never get out of there and I knew we had missed our walk. I started to have a real hatred for snow, I can tell you, Bum."
"That reminds me of an old joke about a snow shoveler that was making the rounds many years ago, Bear."
"It''hard to believe there could be much of a joke about shoveling snow," said Bear suspiciously.
"From memory, and it was a long time ago I read it somewhere, there was a man and his wife, (at the wife's insistence as I recall) who moved outside the City to a small place near a forest, a stream, and some looming mountains. It was like the place my niece, Mara, and her husband, Mike, found in Squamish, about an hour's drive from North Vancouver.
Their first night there, a few weeks before Christmas, was thrilling for both of them. They were sitting, drinks in hand, gazing out the window at the softly falling snow flakes. They felt blessed.
Over the next week, it kept snowing and snowing and snowing and snowing. The man's belief that all that snow shoveling would keep him fit, began to pale. He slipped on the icy driveway and hurt his back quite badly.
Things started to deteriorate and there were several incidents with the snow plough operator who drove this route on a regular basis. Every time the man shoveled his driveway and the sidewalk fronting his property, the snow plough would come along and obliterate the end of his driveway and the sidewalk, with huge mounds of dirty snow.
Things got so bad, his wife left him and went to stay with her mother over Christmas and the New Year. The man was glad. This was all her fault and he hated her and he hated the f'ing snow and he particularly hated the f'ing snow plough driver. The last incident with the snow plough operator got ugly. The snow shoveler hit the snow plough driver with his shovel after the driver had the nerve to ask for a donation because of Christmas, and then threatened unmentionable things he was going to do to the driver with the broken shovel handle.
The police came, of course. The snow shoveler was incarcerated, and not in a regular hospital. He loves the little white pills he is prescribed but wonders why he is tied to the bed."
"As a snow joke, Bum, that stinks," said Bear.
"Maybe it's because you're a dog and never had to shovel snow," responded Bum. Bear said nothing.
"I hate to leave you on such a sour note so perhaps this message about snow I received recently from my niece, Mara, will please you. She enclosed a picture of the scene outside her window but, of course, I don't know how to include it here. A high tech person, I'm not. She wrote,"
......
I awoke to the beginnings of a Winter Wonderland. I could already tell as I lay in the dark....by the muted, muffled sense of sound. The landscape in layers of darks and whites....like an old photograph, and the stream's towering deciduous trees look like a filigree. The only colours are the brick red shoots off the lilac tree, and the little Christmas lights, barely peaking from the coloured snow-laden Apple tree.
.....
"Very poetic, isn't she?: said Bear.
"
"
.
Friday, December 27, 2019
Tuesday, December 10, 2019
STRENGTHS
"G'day Bear. You are looking particularly elegant today. What happened?"
"My master's son, Jimmy, came over to see me early this morning. He knows I like to have my coat brushed so he did it for me. It was lovely; he has a nice touch. And, what's with the G'day crap? Are you feeling Australian?"
"I heard the expression in a movie we were watching the other night and I thought what a great word."
How so?" asked Bear.
"It's good for any time of the day, morning, noon or evening. The perfect word wouldn't you say."
"Whatever," said Bear, and then "I find it a bit pretentious, so let's drop it, or at least don't use it on me."
"OK, oh word master," responded Bum. "Good morning, let's start again."
"Good morning, Bum, what's next on our editing job?"
"Strengths," said Bum.:
"The first point Paul made was that the notion of a relationship being struck up between a retired woman and a talking dog is an appealing one. We fixed this bit, as I already told you, so don't go crazy about it."
"OK," said Bear, and he looked pleased for once.
"The second point is that Janey Lennox is a quirky and appealing character," Bum continued.
"Hmph, Bum, if you mean a person, like you, who picks ups butts on her walk with me each day to match the number of cigarettes she smoked with coffee before her walk, and has a drink of water from the small water bottle she carries, every time a car or truck drives by, then I guess your nephew got that quirky part right. Appealing, maybe not so much."
Bum ignored his rather disparaging remarks and said, "You know I've started carrying my small water bottle on my resumed walks now, and yes I do take a swallow every time a vehicle goes by, and in addition, I take another swallow every twenty steps I take before I do about 5 shoulder lifts which seem to be helping me straighten my back somewhat."
"That's good, Bum, that you have taken over your own method of fixing your back and I see that it is working a bit, not perfect but a bit, and as I told you before, water is the source of life."
"I know you said that, Bear, but you know I don't particularly like water; it is so tasteless. And, I have never seen so many vehicles go by during my new walking regime. I can hardly make one block before my little bottle of water is empty."
"That's good, again, Bum. Bring a bigger bottle," said Bear.
"No," said Bum, and said no more on that boring subject.
"The third point Paul made under strengths is one you'll like. He said Bear shows himself to be an interesting and unexpected companion and their relationship does deepen and become more caring."
"Interesting is good, Bum, but why does quirky sound more with it? What the hell does quirky mean, anyway?"
"Most people think quirky is someone who is weird or peculiar, but it can be someone who is interesting and unique," said Bum.
Bear looked more annoyed than usual and said, "Paul gave me only one strength and that was interesting, and now you are trying to include it as part of the meaning of quirky."
"I googled the meaning of interesting because I just knew you would give me some grief about my being a fun-loving quirky type and you being only interesting. For your edification, dear Bear, interesting is someone who keeps your attention because he/she is unusual, exciting, and has lots of ideas."
"Oh," said Bear, "then that's OK. What's next on the list?"'
"Paul said there is some snappy and readable dialogue."
"That sounds pretty good. We do walk and we do talk so maybe some is snappy and I hope readable. down the road.," said Bear.
"No argument from me," said Bum.
"Finally," said Bear. "we agree on something. Makes a nice change, doesn't it? What's next for our strengths?"
"This is the last one, Bear. Paul said "there are a number of chuckle-inducing anecdotes," said Bum, and she smiled because this is one of her favourites.
"I hope I have one of the chuckle-inducing anecdotes, Bum, as you seem to be taking all the good strengths'" said Bear peevishly.
"As a matter of fact, Bear, the first one that comes to my mind is your fornicating story, so there," said Bum.
"I apologize, Bum, for jumping to an incorrect conclusion, or should that be assumption," said Bear, trying to placate Bum as best he could.
"May I say Bear how much I like that you apologize when required, so unlike many people who seem unable to do so, even when it is necessary.. You are a gentleman."
"Bum," said Bear, " I care deeply for you. as you do me, and I would never not feel sorry if I hurt you or made you feel I don't care for you. I think this is mutual and it makes us such good friends and companions. I love you."
Bear rested his head against Bum's knee and they sat there in companionable silence for awhile before Bum spoke. "I guess that's where we get that snappy and readable dialogue We both speak our minds and we know there is no malice behind it."
"So true, Bum," said Bear, "now give me my chuckle-inducing anecdote. I've forgotten a lot of it but I do recall I was just a puppy living in a new house with my master. He knew I was skittish and whiny so he let me sleep in his bed in the beginning. He's a very nice, kind man. Did I ever mention that to you?".
"Yes you did," answered Bum. "I remember our conversation about whether he was fornicating when he was looking for a new wife. He either divorced his first wife or she died, I cannot remember. You said he tried out several women because he is a careful man, and then you confirmed that fornicating was the right word because it means two people who are not married to each other having consensual sexual intercourse. If one of the two people are married, it is adultery."
"That's a lot of information, Bear, please continue."
"One night that stands out, I couldn't see what was happening as I was near the foot of the bed as usual. It sounded like someone might be hurt. I got to my feet and moved ever so slowly up the bed. There is some light seeping through the curtained window over the head of the bed. There were arms and legs everywhere and I thought they had a friend over, a sick friend from the sounds."
"That's a good one, Bear. Ha, ha, ha."
"Why are you interrupting the flow of my story, Bum? You don't let me do that to you."
"I am so very sorry, Bear. Please accept my apologies and please continue."
"OK, where was I?" said Bear. "I'm moving up the bed and there are legs everywhere. Suddenly, out of the gloom there is a bum, Bum."
"A bum bum?" said Bum. "More than one?"
"A bum, comma Bum," and now Bear is looking annoyed.
"Oh, sorry again to interrupt. It was a surprise."
.
"Anyway, a bum rose up before me, dappled by the moon's rays. It was my master's bum and it was all aquiver. I was a pup, so I nipped."
"You nipped his bum?"said Bum in astonishment.
"Yes, and a great groan emanated from him, and I heard these words, OOH ARTOOOS before he collapsed flat out. It was odd, because suddenly I was enfolded in loving arms, 4 of them I think, and it was lovely, my fur against hot skin. I'd never felt so loved."
"That is such a great anecdote, Bear. I too must've had a chuckle-inducing anecdote in that big book I wrote but for the life of me I cannot bring to mind, even one. Maybe I'm tired or worse, losing my memory."
"What about that wet kiss one, Bum. I found it quite amusing, as did your boyfriend, Gordon when you told him.."
"It happened many years ago when I worked as a stenographer at the Parliament Buildings in Toronto. The department was called Public Works, I believe, and I worked for about eight men who travelled the Province to find and expropriate private properties for the government. Neil Gillis was the boss and was considered quite a catch around the building."
"Did you catch him, Bum?"
"No," said Bum.
"Is he the wet kisser?" asked Bear.
"Yes," said Bum succinctly. She really is overusing that word, as Bear already told her.
This is where Gordon interjected with "So, where did this infamous wet kiss occur?"
"Neil had a small staff gathering at his apartment. I believe it was Christmas, and he kissed me, for Christmas I guess. It was simply awful. It was so wet, and I've never forgotten it."
"You seem to like the moist kisses I give you."
"I do, Gordon," I said. "You know I do. But, and this is a big but, there's moist and then there's a deluge."
"It sounds like a French kiss," murmured Gordon, trying not to laugh.
"He wasn't French, Gordon, "I think he was Welsh."
"That's funny, Bum," said Bear, "and isn't it funny that both of our chuckle-inducing anecdotes are about sex."
"Bear, if you can't have a bit of fun about sex, what else don't you have fun with. What a bore a person like that is."
"That's not us, Bum," said Bear.
"No," said Bum, succinctly.
.
"My master's son, Jimmy, came over to see me early this morning. He knows I like to have my coat brushed so he did it for me. It was lovely; he has a nice touch. And, what's with the G'day crap? Are you feeling Australian?"
"I heard the expression in a movie we were watching the other night and I thought what a great word."
How so?" asked Bear.
"It's good for any time of the day, morning, noon or evening. The perfect word wouldn't you say."
"Whatever," said Bear, and then "I find it a bit pretentious, so let's drop it, or at least don't use it on me."
"OK, oh word master," responded Bum. "Good morning, let's start again."
"Good morning, Bum, what's next on our editing job?"
"Strengths," said Bum.:
"The first point Paul made was that the notion of a relationship being struck up between a retired woman and a talking dog is an appealing one. We fixed this bit, as I already told you, so don't go crazy about it."
"OK," said Bear, and he looked pleased for once.
"The second point is that Janey Lennox is a quirky and appealing character," Bum continued.
"Hmph, Bum, if you mean a person, like you, who picks ups butts on her walk with me each day to match the number of cigarettes she smoked with coffee before her walk, and has a drink of water from the small water bottle she carries, every time a car or truck drives by, then I guess your nephew got that quirky part right. Appealing, maybe not so much."
Bum ignored his rather disparaging remarks and said, "You know I've started carrying my small water bottle on my resumed walks now, and yes I do take a swallow every time a vehicle goes by, and in addition, I take another swallow every twenty steps I take before I do about 5 shoulder lifts which seem to be helping me straighten my back somewhat."
"That's good, Bum, that you have taken over your own method of fixing your back and I see that it is working a bit, not perfect but a bit, and as I told you before, water is the source of life."
"I know you said that, Bear, but you know I don't particularly like water; it is so tasteless. And, I have never seen so many vehicles go by during my new walking regime. I can hardly make one block before my little bottle of water is empty."
"That's good, again, Bum. Bring a bigger bottle," said Bear.
"No," said Bum, and said no more on that boring subject.
"The third point Paul made under strengths is one you'll like. He said Bear shows himself to be an interesting and unexpected companion and their relationship does deepen and become more caring."
"Interesting is good, Bum, but why does quirky sound more with it? What the hell does quirky mean, anyway?"
"Most people think quirky is someone who is weird or peculiar, but it can be someone who is interesting and unique," said Bum.
Bear looked more annoyed than usual and said, "Paul gave me only one strength and that was interesting, and now you are trying to include it as part of the meaning of quirky."
"I googled the meaning of interesting because I just knew you would give me some grief about my being a fun-loving quirky type and you being only interesting. For your edification, dear Bear, interesting is someone who keeps your attention because he/she is unusual, exciting, and has lots of ideas."
"Oh," said Bear, "then that's OK. What's next on the list?"'
"Paul said there is some snappy and readable dialogue."
"That sounds pretty good. We do walk and we do talk so maybe some is snappy and I hope readable. down the road.," said Bear.
"No argument from me," said Bum.
"Finally," said Bear. "we agree on something. Makes a nice change, doesn't it? What's next for our strengths?"
"This is the last one, Bear. Paul said "there are a number of chuckle-inducing anecdotes," said Bum, and she smiled because this is one of her favourites.
"I hope I have one of the chuckle-inducing anecdotes, Bum, as you seem to be taking all the good strengths'" said Bear peevishly.
"As a matter of fact, Bear, the first one that comes to my mind is your fornicating story, so there," said Bum.
"I apologize, Bum, for jumping to an incorrect conclusion, or should that be assumption," said Bear, trying to placate Bum as best he could.
"May I say Bear how much I like that you apologize when required, so unlike many people who seem unable to do so, even when it is necessary.. You are a gentleman."
"Bum," said Bear, " I care deeply for you. as you do me, and I would never not feel sorry if I hurt you or made you feel I don't care for you. I think this is mutual and it makes us such good friends and companions. I love you."
Bear rested his head against Bum's knee and they sat there in companionable silence for awhile before Bum spoke. "I guess that's where we get that snappy and readable dialogue We both speak our minds and we know there is no malice behind it."
"So true, Bum," said Bear, "now give me my chuckle-inducing anecdote. I've forgotten a lot of it but I do recall I was just a puppy living in a new house with my master. He knew I was skittish and whiny so he let me sleep in his bed in the beginning. He's a very nice, kind man. Did I ever mention that to you?".
"Yes you did," answered Bum. "I remember our conversation about whether he was fornicating when he was looking for a new wife. He either divorced his first wife or she died, I cannot remember. You said he tried out several women because he is a careful man, and then you confirmed that fornicating was the right word because it means two people who are not married to each other having consensual sexual intercourse. If one of the two people are married, it is adultery."
"That's a lot of information, Bear, please continue."
"One night that stands out, I couldn't see what was happening as I was near the foot of the bed as usual. It sounded like someone might be hurt. I got to my feet and moved ever so slowly up the bed. There is some light seeping through the curtained window over the head of the bed. There were arms and legs everywhere and I thought they had a friend over, a sick friend from the sounds."
"That's a good one, Bear. Ha, ha, ha."
"Why are you interrupting the flow of my story, Bum? You don't let me do that to you."
"I am so very sorry, Bear. Please accept my apologies and please continue."
"OK, where was I?" said Bear. "I'm moving up the bed and there are legs everywhere. Suddenly, out of the gloom there is a bum, Bum."
"A bum bum?" said Bum. "More than one?"
"A bum, comma Bum," and now Bear is looking annoyed.
"Oh, sorry again to interrupt. It was a surprise."
.
"Anyway, a bum rose up before me, dappled by the moon's rays. It was my master's bum and it was all aquiver. I was a pup, so I nipped."
"You nipped his bum?"said Bum in astonishment.
"Yes, and a great groan emanated from him, and I heard these words, OOH ARTOOOS before he collapsed flat out. It was odd, because suddenly I was enfolded in loving arms, 4 of them I think, and it was lovely, my fur against hot skin. I'd never felt so loved."
"That is such a great anecdote, Bear. I too must've had a chuckle-inducing anecdote in that big book I wrote but for the life of me I cannot bring to mind, even one. Maybe I'm tired or worse, losing my memory."
"What about that wet kiss one, Bum. I found it quite amusing, as did your boyfriend, Gordon when you told him.."
"It happened many years ago when I worked as a stenographer at the Parliament Buildings in Toronto. The department was called Public Works, I believe, and I worked for about eight men who travelled the Province to find and expropriate private properties for the government. Neil Gillis was the boss and was considered quite a catch around the building."
"Did you catch him, Bum?"
"No," said Bum.
"Is he the wet kisser?" asked Bear.
"Yes," said Bum succinctly. She really is overusing that word, as Bear already told her.
This is where Gordon interjected with "So, where did this infamous wet kiss occur?"
"Neil had a small staff gathering at his apartment. I believe it was Christmas, and he kissed me, for Christmas I guess. It was simply awful. It was so wet, and I've never forgotten it."
"You seem to like the moist kisses I give you."
"I do, Gordon," I said. "You know I do. But, and this is a big but, there's moist and then there's a deluge."
"It sounds like a French kiss," murmured Gordon, trying not to laugh.
"He wasn't French, Gordon, "I think he was Welsh."
"That's funny, Bum," said Bear, "and isn't it funny that both of our chuckle-inducing anecdotes are about sex."
"Bear, if you can't have a bit of fun about sex, what else don't you have fun with. What a bore a person like that is."
"That's not us, Bum," said Bear.
"No," said Bum, succinctly.
.
Sunday, December 8, 2019
STORY ANALYSIS
"Good morning, Bear. Good to have you back. How did your visit go with your master. I guess he had lots to say about that course he's giving."
"Too much," said Bear, and said no more. Maybe he feels like I do when someone asks you if you want to see their daughter's wedding pictures and then pulls out three huge albums. At the end of this tiring task, you never want to meet the daughter and her mother's presence ever again, is questionable.
"Before we get on to Paul's Story Analysis, let me sit here and enjoy this cigarette, using my little goat ashtray. I won't walk today because I have to go over town with Frances. She has a meeting with a lawyer about copywrite of the letters she is trying to publish.. We'll park at the Bay and I'll walk her over to the lawyers and then walk back to this place called Sephora, a half block away from Granville Street, where I believe they sell that Rihanna lip cream I like and am now out of. That should do it for the walk and I can meet Frances at our usual spot on the 3rd floor of the Bay near the coffee shop." I puffed away and Bear said nothing about this information, I guess he's still annoyed with his master.
Finally Bear spoke. "I read your two profiles, Bum, and enjoyed them very much. Your friend, Bill, sounds like a real character and the one about your sister was very charming. I'm not sure I agree with your sister, Frances, that they are profiles and not short stories. They seemed short to me and they are stories I wonder what Alice Munro thought of them. She's the great short story teller."
"In my wildest imagination, dear Bear, I do not think Alice Munro is reading our blog. Jesuit Priest!! I've heard everything now."
"Your language is deteriorating, Bum. You seem to curse a lot lately," said Bear in that disapproving tone he uses.
"My sister said the same thing to me the other day and I asked her what the fuck did she know about it?"
"Charming," said Bear.
"You told me once, Bear, that you found yourself cursing more as you got older" said Bum in retaliation.
"In my defence, Bum, I try to keep my cursing to myself and not bombard unsuspecting people with it."
"Bully for you, Bear, but you don't have as much to curse about as I do. My medical situation is giving me grief, the doctors are useless, and I've lost my youthful walk, and worst of all, my strength which, granted, I took for granted, as do all young people. They have no idea what awaits them in their goddam golden years."
"Promise me, Bum, that you will try very hard to curse to yourself, like I do," said Bear.
"OK, Bear, I will do my very best," promised Bum.
Bear seemed satisfied with my response.
"We'd best get back to the Story Analysis which Paul wrote. This is what he said and I quote."
"The heroine archetype of Janey Lennox is Spunky Kid (Working Girl) - Heroes & Heroines, pp. 65-69. The hero archetype of Artos/Bear is either a Best Friend (Confident) - Heroes & Heroines pp. 16-20, or a Bad Boy (From the Wrong Side of the Tracks) - Heroes & Heroines pp. 10-15. It might be more interesting if his character were moved in the direction of this latter, Bad Boy. But even if he's a Best Friend it can still work, it may even be possible to combine these archetypes. The character Gordon is a Best Friend (Mr. Nice Guy) Heroes & Heroines pp. 16-20.
In terms of the actual plot, it is a fantasy story and a love story, maybe two love stories. Or perhaps it's a Tragedy of a sort, since right now it has a sad ending. As written, the plot is not really developed. In the end the lovers are separated as in Casablanca, but, unlike Casablanca, there is no higher reason or meaning in this sacrifice. Gordon has family commitments that call him away, and that's it. The story should have a higher reason or meaning in order to reach its potential. It should have a point to make.
Right now the story is saying, in effect, something like "Love takes a long time to find, and if you do find it, it is quickly snatched away. Alone again, naturally."
"Paul's a bit of a downer, isn't he Bum?" suggested Bear. "And, I am not a Bad Boy, stereotypical or not, and you can tell him that for me. And, before I leave my diatribe about stereotypes, I don't see Gordon as Best Friend (Mr. Nice Guy), Doesn't Paul know that stereotyping people, or dogs, is a type of prejudice because what is on the outside is a small part of who a person, or a dog, is."
Bum thought a moment and then said, "Perhaps he's too young to appreciate or understand a love affair between two older people. For God's sake, Gordon was closer to 90 than anything else so of course he wasn't going to ride off into the sunset with his beloved Janey and live happily ever after."
"That is true, Bum. People get old and they die, that is the nature of things. I wouldn't call it a tragedy, particularly if they had a special piece of happiness before the end. And, all that baloney about Casablanca and the higher meaning or whatever is all very well when you're young and eager to save the world. Your world and Gordon's is more or less on the wane., and saving the world would be beyond your ability or desire. You've lived your life, let that be an end of it. The real Gordon is dead now but you have let him live on in memory."
"Nicely said, Bear. I must go and attend to my ablutions, have some lunch, and take my sister downtown for her one hour meeting with that new lawyer Paul found to help with her project, her friends's love letters.".
"Will I see you later in the day, Bum? I'd like to hear about your big walk to that lawyer's office."
"Yes, we should be back in lots of time for me to make our martinis so I'll meet you then," said Bum.
"Good," said Bear. "I know how important it is for you and your sister to have your martinis at 5:00 o'clock sharp each day. It seems to me this 5:00 o'clock deadline is the only one you meet, on time I mean."
Bum gave him a dirty look and left.
Our drive downtown was pretty uneventful, very light traffic for a change, and no pedestrians popping out without warning in front of the car, and not so much construction on the sides of many roads as is usual. I turned on Cambie Street as usual, made my way to Seymour Street and, a couple of blocks later, right into The Bay to park. We were later than usual so had to pay a higher parking fee, and it has to be paid by credit card (no coins allowed anymore) which I object to most strenuously. Diamond Parking, I believe it's called, and they have taken over North America or perhaps the world. Bastards I said to myself, bearing in mind my promise to Bear.
We had lots of time before Frances had to meet Paul at the lawyer's at Homer & Georgia so we strolled through the Bay checking out the latest fashions which we should not buy because we are downsizing, and eventually reached street level. The cosmetic counters held us up for a bit just in case we could get a few free samples. No luck today. My leg is starting to act up a bit so I'm hoping it's not too far to the lawyer's office . It was. I rested up in the reception area there while Frances waited for Paul. That helped as the pain goes away when I'm sitting.
I left the lawyer's office and turned left a block down to Dunsmuir. It took forever and they never have a bench to sit on. I turned left and started my long treck back to The Bay. The first block wasn't too bad if you don't mind pain and discomfort in your hips. The second block seemed endless but I was able to lean against a few walls which helped. The next block was empty of pedestrians and benches or walls. There's an old hotel on the corner so I thought I'd stop and go in for a coffee. It was boarded up, and had been for some time if the look told you anything. Anyway, I stumbled on and half way down that dreary, empty, street, I said "Where is fucking Granville Street?" A voice from the empty street said "Fucking Granville Street is a block away." A young fellow in quiet shoes must've overtaken me. "I am so very sorry." I said. "That' s OK," he said. "I've heard worse." and off he ambled in the loose limbed way young people have.
I told Bear my big walk story when I got home. I left out the "fucking Granville Street bit" for obvious reasons.
.
.
,
.
"Too much," said Bear, and said no more. Maybe he feels like I do when someone asks you if you want to see their daughter's wedding pictures and then pulls out three huge albums. At the end of this tiring task, you never want to meet the daughter and her mother's presence ever again, is questionable.
"Before we get on to Paul's Story Analysis, let me sit here and enjoy this cigarette, using my little goat ashtray. I won't walk today because I have to go over town with Frances. She has a meeting with a lawyer about copywrite of the letters she is trying to publish.. We'll park at the Bay and I'll walk her over to the lawyers and then walk back to this place called Sephora, a half block away from Granville Street, where I believe they sell that Rihanna lip cream I like and am now out of. That should do it for the walk and I can meet Frances at our usual spot on the 3rd floor of the Bay near the coffee shop." I puffed away and Bear said nothing about this information, I guess he's still annoyed with his master.
Finally Bear spoke. "I read your two profiles, Bum, and enjoyed them very much. Your friend, Bill, sounds like a real character and the one about your sister was very charming. I'm not sure I agree with your sister, Frances, that they are profiles and not short stories. They seemed short to me and they are stories I wonder what Alice Munro thought of them. She's the great short story teller."
"In my wildest imagination, dear Bear, I do not think Alice Munro is reading our blog. Jesuit Priest!! I've heard everything now."
"Your language is deteriorating, Bum. You seem to curse a lot lately," said Bear in that disapproving tone he uses.
"My sister said the same thing to me the other day and I asked her what the fuck did she know about it?"
"Charming," said Bear.
"You told me once, Bear, that you found yourself cursing more as you got older" said Bum in retaliation.
"In my defence, Bum, I try to keep my cursing to myself and not bombard unsuspecting people with it."
"Bully for you, Bear, but you don't have as much to curse about as I do. My medical situation is giving me grief, the doctors are useless, and I've lost my youthful walk, and worst of all, my strength which, granted, I took for granted, as do all young people. They have no idea what awaits them in their goddam golden years."
"Promise me, Bum, that you will try very hard to curse to yourself, like I do," said Bear.
"OK, Bear, I will do my very best," promised Bum.
Bear seemed satisfied with my response.
"We'd best get back to the Story Analysis which Paul wrote. This is what he said and I quote."
"The heroine archetype of Janey Lennox is Spunky Kid (Working Girl) - Heroes & Heroines, pp. 65-69. The hero archetype of Artos/Bear is either a Best Friend (Confident) - Heroes & Heroines pp. 16-20, or a Bad Boy (From the Wrong Side of the Tracks) - Heroes & Heroines pp. 10-15. It might be more interesting if his character were moved in the direction of this latter, Bad Boy. But even if he's a Best Friend it can still work, it may even be possible to combine these archetypes. The character Gordon is a Best Friend (Mr. Nice Guy) Heroes & Heroines pp. 16-20.
In terms of the actual plot, it is a fantasy story and a love story, maybe two love stories. Or perhaps it's a Tragedy of a sort, since right now it has a sad ending. As written, the plot is not really developed. In the end the lovers are separated as in Casablanca, but, unlike Casablanca, there is no higher reason or meaning in this sacrifice. Gordon has family commitments that call him away, and that's it. The story should have a higher reason or meaning in order to reach its potential. It should have a point to make.
Right now the story is saying, in effect, something like "Love takes a long time to find, and if you do find it, it is quickly snatched away. Alone again, naturally."
"Paul's a bit of a downer, isn't he Bum?" suggested Bear. "And, I am not a Bad Boy, stereotypical or not, and you can tell him that for me. And, before I leave my diatribe about stereotypes, I don't see Gordon as Best Friend (Mr. Nice Guy), Doesn't Paul know that stereotyping people, or dogs, is a type of prejudice because what is on the outside is a small part of who a person, or a dog, is."
Bum thought a moment and then said, "Perhaps he's too young to appreciate or understand a love affair between two older people. For God's sake, Gordon was closer to 90 than anything else so of course he wasn't going to ride off into the sunset with his beloved Janey and live happily ever after."
"That is true, Bum. People get old and they die, that is the nature of things. I wouldn't call it a tragedy, particularly if they had a special piece of happiness before the end. And, all that baloney about Casablanca and the higher meaning or whatever is all very well when you're young and eager to save the world. Your world and Gordon's is more or less on the wane., and saving the world would be beyond your ability or desire. You've lived your life, let that be an end of it. The real Gordon is dead now but you have let him live on in memory."
"Nicely said, Bear. I must go and attend to my ablutions, have some lunch, and take my sister downtown for her one hour meeting with that new lawyer Paul found to help with her project, her friends's love letters.".
"Will I see you later in the day, Bum? I'd like to hear about your big walk to that lawyer's office."
"Yes, we should be back in lots of time for me to make our martinis so I'll meet you then," said Bum.
"Good," said Bear. "I know how important it is for you and your sister to have your martinis at 5:00 o'clock sharp each day. It seems to me this 5:00 o'clock deadline is the only one you meet, on time I mean."
Bum gave him a dirty look and left.
Our drive downtown was pretty uneventful, very light traffic for a change, and no pedestrians popping out without warning in front of the car, and not so much construction on the sides of many roads as is usual. I turned on Cambie Street as usual, made my way to Seymour Street and, a couple of blocks later, right into The Bay to park. We were later than usual so had to pay a higher parking fee, and it has to be paid by credit card (no coins allowed anymore) which I object to most strenuously. Diamond Parking, I believe it's called, and they have taken over North America or perhaps the world. Bastards I said to myself, bearing in mind my promise to Bear.
We had lots of time before Frances had to meet Paul at the lawyer's at Homer & Georgia so we strolled through the Bay checking out the latest fashions which we should not buy because we are downsizing, and eventually reached street level. The cosmetic counters held us up for a bit just in case we could get a few free samples. No luck today. My leg is starting to act up a bit so I'm hoping it's not too far to the lawyer's office . It was. I rested up in the reception area there while Frances waited for Paul. That helped as the pain goes away when I'm sitting.
I left the lawyer's office and turned left a block down to Dunsmuir. It took forever and they never have a bench to sit on. I turned left and started my long treck back to The Bay. The first block wasn't too bad if you don't mind pain and discomfort in your hips. The second block seemed endless but I was able to lean against a few walls which helped. The next block was empty of pedestrians and benches or walls. There's an old hotel on the corner so I thought I'd stop and go in for a coffee. It was boarded up, and had been for some time if the look told you anything. Anyway, I stumbled on and half way down that dreary, empty, street, I said "Where is fucking Granville Street?" A voice from the empty street said "Fucking Granville Street is a block away." A young fellow in quiet shoes must've overtaken me. "I am so very sorry." I said. "That' s OK," he said. "I've heard worse." and off he ambled in the loose limbed way young people have.
I told Bear my big walk story when I got home. I left out the "fucking Granville Street bit" for obvious reasons.
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