"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.
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