Talking Shop - with Sonny D

I know some of you out there in Blog-land happen to be really-and-truly published authors. And I also know that all of us in the Writing Game love to 'talk shop.' But depending on your circumstances, that's not always easy to do.

For one thing, your close friends and family couldn't care less. Or if they at least even try, it comes out patronizing - "So, Sonny - what words do YOU have a hard time spelling?" To put them out of their misery, you change the subject to girls or cars. Or, depending on your gender - shopping.

In the hopes of generating a cyber-Algonquin Roundtable, here are a few topics which may generate some serious debate. Feel free to talk amongst yourselves and comment accordingly. My apologies to anyone upon whom I may have already foisted these arguments in the past. Please, pardon my redundancy.

1. So, what words do YOU have a hard time speling?

2. Non-fiction writers - smarter, more creative AND sexier than novelists - True or False?

3. Dress code at work for men - a.) bathrobe & slippers; b.)the 'Lou Grant' look - white shirt & out-of-style tie - shirt-sleeves rolled up, tie loosened at collar; c.)the traditional tweed jacket - suede elbow-patches optional.

4. Dress code at work for women - a.)white dress with pearls; b.) a simple little black dress (see: Jacqueline Susann); c.)bathrobe & slippers; d.) nothing at all.

5. Plagiarism - is it flattery; a "homage"; or just plain stealing?

6. The 'dash' - has it become the lazy man's semi-colon?

7. The hardest part of becoming a 'published author' - finding a publisher? Or - sitting down and writing the damn book?

8. Agents - is 20 per-cent really enough?

9. Background music at the typewriter - an aid or a distraction? Any suggestions?

10. The hottest chicks in literature - Lady Macbeth or Betty & Veronica?

11. 'Writers block' - myth, reality - or just an excuse for spending the day watching the Turner Movie Classics channel?

12. When tallying your final word count, do you include 'and' or 'the'?

13. Editors - why do they make such a big fuss about proper grammer, and correct spelling?

14. Run-on sentences that go on and on and don't make a point but just go on and on and on without making a point. Are they the latest trend?

15. James Frey - does Oprah owe him an apology?

16. Role models - William Shakespeare; Stephen King; Harvey Kurtzman?

17. Other than John Irving, has any writer ever gotten laid by claiming to be "a published author"?

18. Carbon-paper - you hate it, right?

19. What's the big deal about misquoting? Isn't that what libel-insurance is for?

20. Favorite forms of procrastinating when a deadline is looming? Other than on-line porn or 'TCM.'

An Open Letter to Rene Angelil

Recently overheard on a London, Ont. school-bus - "Well, her songs are kinda lame, don'cha think? The one from that 'Titanic' movie? Peeee-uuuu!"

Because It Wouldn't Be Thanksgiving Without Him

Last month while everyone was sweating over the stove roasting a turkey on the hottest day of the year, I wasn't.

I had learned my lesson back in 1963 which was the last time temperatures reached 30 degrees Celsius in Ontario on a Thanksgiving weekend. As I told me missus that day, "Mother, put that bird back in the freezer. It's too dern hot for turkey. We'll just wait till the end of November and celebrate with the Americans."

And it's worked out fine. This year, while everyone else spent Thanksgiving in a hot kitchen, my family and I were in Michigan going to all the Columbus Day sales and getting a start on our Thanksgiving-gift shopping.

I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but really, how in the world can you celebrate Thanksgiving in the first week of October? How can you give thanks for a bountiful harvest when there are still crops in the fields? How can you have a Harvest Moon Dance when it's just too dern hot to shake it?

Let's face it - the Americans know how to DO Thanksgiving.

First off, they deliberately chose to hold the holiday on a Thursday, thus guaranteeing a minimum four-day weekend. Throw in travelling time and you have six days off. They basically close down the entire country for almost a week just so everyone can spend long periods of time with their extended families while stuffing their faces and watching television. Now, that's my kinda country.

But up here, Thanksgiving is on a Monday. Everyone does their big turkey dinner on the Sunday, which means the next day is spent doing work around the house and putting up storms. Some holiday.

Even their Thanksgiving origin story is better than ours. How can you not want to join in the fun when you know it's about the Indians and those Pilgrim guys sharing corn-on-the-cob and wild turkey. All that stuff about Pocahontas and Captain John Smith splitting a banana split? It's the stuff of legends.

And what comparable folklore does Canada have? Nothin'. Just that old wives' tale about how a car full of American tourists once got lost looking for the Northwest Passage in the 1930s and ended up breaking bread and sharing perogies with a bunch of sodbusters in Saskatchewan.

Why, we don't even commemorate the occassion with a parade.

Oh sure, all Canadian towns have their own Santa Claus parades. But I ask you - what kind of Thanksgiving is it if you don't celebrate it with high-school marching bands, a cornucopia of gaily decorated floats and giant hot-air balloons based on forgotten Saturday morning cartoon characters?

That's why my family chooses to give our thanks on the same day as our American neighbours.

It's a long-time tradition. The kids take that particular Thursday off school. We gather in the living room with our friend Mr. Television and spend the morning watching the Macy's parade broadcast live from New York City. The excitement builds as we wonder and wager if this will be the year they cancel the Underdog balloon. The popularity of Wally Cox notwithstanding, just how long can you keep a parade attraction going when his TV show has been off the air for decades?

But we can rest easy this year. Underdog is a sure bet due to the live-action Disney 'Underdog' feature film which was out for a couple of weeks this past summer. The official release of the DVD isn't till December 18 but I have a bootleg copy I managed to score off a shady-looking 10-year-old outside the Cineplex and that's what we're watching after that parade this year instead of the usual old stand-by 'Miracle on 34th Street.'

It doesn't matter if the new version has next to nothing in common with the original cartoon. It doesn't matter if it's basically just another 'talking-dog movie.' Thanks to that parade, Underdog is a Thanksgiving icon. Possibly better known to the young people these days as a balloon than a cartoon.

And this particular holiday is all about Tradition. As evidenced by the capital 'T.' And in my house, that means wearing Pilgrim hats at the dinner table and saying thanks for family, turkeys that are roasted and not barbequed - and even for parade balloons of animated superhero dogs.

That's what Thanksgiving is all about.

Old Guy Silences Punks with Witty Retorts

Eighty-year-old Stan Myers stunned a small group of ruffians at Cherry Hill Mall yesterday after they elbowed him out of their way enroute to the Food Court.

"Who are you calling 'Pops'?" yelled back Myers. "I'm emotionally-immature enough to be your kid brother!"

The group of hooligans stopped in their tracks.

"You kids are so dumb, if it was raining soup, you'd all show up with forks," he added.

According to witnesses, Myers, affectionately known around the Mall as 'Stan the Man,' remained calm and cool as a cucumber.

At that point, the whipper-snappers turned around, scowling slack-jawed at the thin, hairless old man barely standing before them. Myers, emboldened by the presence of nearby blue-rinse babes clearly captivated by his bad-boy behavior, then pushed his walker up to the leader of the group, looked him straight in the eyes and said, "Hey buster, is that a tatoo or is that your face?"

Gasps could be heard all around. Myers, on the verge of making a comment about the Army being the source of their mothers' bootwear, was left speechless however, when the group's leader stepped forward and apologized for his and his friends' poor manners.

"I'm sorry sir. It will never happen again," said the young rapscallion.

"You make sure that it doesn't, Sonny Jim. And make sure your friends watch their 'P's and 'Q's the next time they set foot in this here mall. Or I'll give them a tongue-thrashing they'll not long forget."

As the four louts slunk off, heads bowed towards the exit, Myers could not resist rubbing salt in the fresh wounds of the ne'er do-wells by calling after them. "That's right. Skedaddle. Before you're missed in kindergarten."

Afterwards, had he been up for it, Myers could have easily celebrated in the midst of the fleshy folds of a blue-haired threesome courtesy of the appreciative and Ruebenesque Ceenyer sisters.

Instead, he turned down his hearing aid, while letting them ply him with brandy as he tried to come up with a few new zingers for 'next time.'

Strong Support for Performing Arts Centre Amongst Vested Interest Groups

"Sure, bring it on!," says Abe Smith of the London Construction Association of the proposed new $100-million performing arts centre for downtown London.

"Just last week, me and the boys were talking after bowling how awesome it would be to tackle a project like that. Heck, it would be bigger than a bowling alley. And a job like that would keep the paychecks rolling in for at least a couple of years."

When asked if he and his work colleaques were excited about attending events in such a facility, Smith replied, "Performance Art - that's what we're talking about, right? Like when some guy comes out on stage naked and covered in chocolate and starts piercing his nipples while playing a zither? Sure, why not? That kinda stuff cracks me up. I wouldn't pay more n' ten bucks a ticket to see it though."

Over at the offices of Orchestra London - touted as being the primary tenant for any new performing arts centre, orchestra director and third violinist Josef Bloor said he looked forward to a new home for Orchestra London. "As long as the city subsidized the rent to the tune of 100 per-cent," added Gloor. "No way we could afford the rent on a new joint like that. Not with the audiences we bring in. You're in London, man."

Civic booster John Raleigh who also heads the London Hotel-Motel Association was similarly supportive. "Oh sure, that's cool. We usually have a few extra rooms anyway. Just in case there's a wedding and guests from out of town.

"Yeah, we can handle a few more tourists. You say this classical music and opera stuff is big with the tourists these days?"

However, the most vocal support for a new building to house a 1,500 plush-velvet seat theatre is London Free Press editor-in-chief Andy Atwood.

"Are you kidding?! This is great! This'll generate copy for years. You want proof people still read the Free Press? Just wait till you see all the mail in the Letters to the Editor section from tax-payers saying they don't want the damn thing."

When asked for confirmation of talk that a new performing arts centre could become the summer home of the Royal Winnipeg Ballet, Atwood laughed. "You've been talking to city-councillor Cord Flume, right? Is that what he's putting out this time round? The last time Cordo tried to get this thing to fly, he was telling people that Stratford was interested in getting London to co-host their Shakespearean Festival with them. Can you imagine?

"Well, I suppose anything's possible - but if there is such talk going on, you can be pretty damn sure it's only coming from Cord and not out of Winnipeg. Geez, a new Performing Arts Centre is just a pipe-dream at the moment. It's barely even an idea. It isn't even at the proposal stage - at least not on paper. The summer home of the Royal Winnipeg Ballet, eh? That's funny. Never say 'die', Cord!"

"But listen. I'll tell you this," says Atwood, turning serious for a moment. "If this thing ever does get built, it would be a good thing because it would finally give the Free Press fine-arts department something to do. Our opera critic, modern dance reviewer and classical music guy would actually have something to write about. Something for them to actually do. Damn unions."

When roused from his slumber, Free Press opera critic Egbert Hollandays said, "Oh, are they talking about that thing again? Believe me, that thing will never get built. And let me tell you why. Because after the federal, provincial and municipal governments have put in 75 per-cent of the cost, the private sector will have to pony up the remaining 25 per cent of the dough.

"Well, it's true that there are a lot of rich people in this town with more money than brains - but enough to donate $25 million? For opera? We ain't talking Bon Jovi tickets here, you know. No, they ain't that stupid.

"And another thing - this is all Cord Flume's baby. And he's on record saying that a performing arts centre WON'T make a profit. It can't even pay for itself. Or support itself. It's a fact that these things lose money hand over fist on a yearly basis and so they need what Cord is calling "an endowment fund" in place. And that's just to keep the place staffed and open. You gonna tell the tax-payers of this town they not only have to pay $75-million to build the thing and then pay every year just to keep it running? You gonna be the one to tell the tax-payers they'll be paying for opera for years when this town doesn't even have a world-class lacrosse facility? Good luck, brutha.

"Besides, other than a handful of opera extreamists and classical music wonks - and a few big-headed city councillors who want to leave their mark by having their names carved into a cornerstone, the sad truth is that no one in town wants this thing.

"Especially me.

"Unfortunately, the squeaky wheels always tend to get the grease at City Hall so sure, there's always the possibility. But God willing, not for another 10 years. I'll be retired by then and I can assure you there's no way I'm ever going to be darkening the doors of that White Elephant Room in the near future. Are you kidding? The way this town does anything, the sound will be atrocious. You wouldn't be able to pay me enough money to go into that place. I'd rather stay home and listen to Paparazzi on my stereo."

Husband Convinced Wives in League to Drive Him Crazy

"They are conspiring to slowly but surely drive me out of my mind," insists Tom Weaver in reference to his ex-wife Myrna and current wife Louise.

"I first realized that something was amiss when I noticed that Louise had picked up some of my ex's most annoying manners of speech," Weaver explains. "For instance, take 'skedaddle.' Back when I was married to Myrna, that word used to drive me nuts. And that's a documented fact. Just check the restraining orders."

"Anyways, just the other day, right out of the blue, Louise says she has to 'skedaddle' if she was going to be on time to meet her Mother for clothes shopping. She then had the temerity to ask if I wanted to 'tag along.' But after she said 'skedaddle,' she knew what my answer would be."

"And she did it again just last night. She said she had to skedaddle so she could go visit a sick friend. That's twice she used that word in two days. She knows what it does to me. She knows my history. I just know Myrna put her up to it. I'm sure they're having a big laugh at my expense."

Weaver, a high-school English teacher adds that his current wife also seems to have appropriated his first wife's habit of peppering her speech with 'what-not's and 'what-have-you's.

Conversely, Weaver says he has noticed at a recent family gathering that Myrna had picked up Louise's irritating way of responding to every statement in a conversation with an emphatic 'Absolutely!'

In retrospect, Weaver claims to have thought nothing of it at the time - at a birthday party for his and Myrna's 10-year-old daughter. "It was time to blow out the candles and I found Myrna and Louise huddled together giggling in the bathroom.

"So's I says to them, 'I'll just close the door so you'se can get back to your scheming.' And Myra blurts out 'Absolutely!' and they start giggling again.

Close friends and neighbours have noticed that both of the Mrs. Weavers have been getting together and 'scheming' whenever Mr. Weaver leaves for work in the morning, on his bowling night and for the entire week he was attending a semantics seminar in Toledo last month.