A SHAGGY-DOG BLOG: AN OVATION BEING MY PUNCH-LINE

MY PUNCH-LINE

First, my snappy title is in reference to a shaggy-dog conversation being a long-winded oneversation of unrelated and irrelevant anecdotes, terminated by a pointless punch-line.  I’m thinking this expression originates from The Shaggy Dog, a 50’s Hollywood flick of monochrome interest and import.  My pointless punch-line for my shaggy-dog essay is a picture of my latest dream-about purchase, an Ovation double-neck acoustic guitar, $2000.00 and change.

A shaggy-dog blog entry gives me an opportunity to write in addlepated fashion about anything I want, any ideas that gruntle me in these morning moments.  (In my woolgathering ways I’ve always a plethora of thoughts to express into space and make available to my readers.)

This morning I’m writing about my play, my work, my private practice, my rituals, and my yearnings.

  

• Play

Every year I contract four gigs at the BUSHWAKKER BREWPUB, one gig for each season.  For these gigs I solicit a few singer-songwriters to join me on stage to strum and sing original folk songs. 

These gigs bring out my delusional self.  I am 66 years of age.  My guitar-slinger stage mates performing at these gigs (Regan, Tommy, Devon, Jay, Mark, John, Brandon, Dustin, Katie, and Trent) are in their late 20’s or early 30’s.  Only Darren, I think, is in his 40’s.  At least one time each season, summer and spring and autumn and winter, I gather with my guitar-slinger mates and imbibe craft beers and collectively share in cheery fashion our latest original songs.      

JAY GREENMAN (DRUMS) AND SELF AT BUSHWAKKERS LAST WEDNESDAY

• Work

Since September 2017, two social workers, a corrections officer, and myself, are on an eight-agency shared services contract to work with the highest level risk (level five) young offenders that are currently in custody or just recently released to the community with a series of conditions.  Our mandate is to prepare them for registration into a regular high school.  This preparation is measured in terms of behavior and academic placement.

I was the perfect choice for such a venture.  For seven years I was assigned to an open-custody young offender facility, to design and deliver an academic program for young offenders.  Factoid:  I wrote my Master’s thesis in Educational Psychology on this very topic (ONE HUNDRED DAYS AT THE HOUSE OF CONCORD:  An Ethnographic Study of Young Offenders in an Exercise Programme, 1994).

  

• Private Practice

HYPNOTHERAPY is still my therapy of choice.  I would like to have more clients; a half dozen per week would suffice.  I SUCK at marketing.

• Rituals

POSTED AT AN OUTDOOR RINK IN AMSTERDAM

(I just had to post this picture!)

These past few winters I have come to love outdoor hockey -- I refer to this as pond hockey.  I have played hockey most my life, from six to sixty-six years of age.  Though I’ve shot the puck in minus 30 degree weather, this winter I’ve decided that minus 20 degrees is my cut-off.  I’ll not lace up the skates when the temperature drops below this.

MY TEA OF CHOICE IN AMSTERDAM

Every day in Canada I drink a medium steeped tea, with two creams and one honey from TIM HORTON'S.  Holland has no such franchise.

• Yearnings

PRACTICE, PRACTICE, PRACTICE

This is my latest project.  Onstage at my next BUSHWAKKERS gig at, my plan to play my guitar while droning my didge.  With practice, practice, practice I will get there.

Another of my yearnings is to own an Ovation double-neck acoustic guitar (pictured atop this blog entry).  And then I’d have an instrument stack of a couple of didgeridoos, a Seagull twelve-string, and a Gold Tone Cripple Creek six-string banjo.  Having that Ovation my life would be complete.   

(Ovation is my punchline for this blog entry; any lines following will be anticlimactic.)

Of course my long term dream to be a planetary busker is ever-present on my mind.  My sketching and thrumming and droning skills are authoritative to busk anywhere, honed enough to provide me Annie Oakley tickets to wherever I am daring to travel.

These busking skills are cause enough for my humble-bragging --
I truly deserve an OVATION!

Marching in my CHAUCERIAN PARADE this week is my close friend, Jack, a former colleague and current artist.  Jack specializes in charcoal portraits and acrylic landscapes.

JACK CLAIMS THAT I DREW HIM TOO FAT -- I TOLD HIM THE PENCIL NEVER LIES