The Romantic Misadventures of Dwight T. Middleman - Widower

INTRODUCTION

Here's the scenario for the ongoing trials and tribulations of Dwight T. Middleman - recent widower.

Dwight T. is just settling into his second marriage when his wife Dorothea has a seizure while they are in the act of love-making and dies.

Both had busy careers and so this was an activity which 'D & D' (as they affectionately referred to themselves,) only indulged in once a week as a prelude to jumping back into the dog-eat-dog world. Every Sunday night, right after 'Desperate Housewives.'

With the exception of Dorothea, no one was more surprised than Dwight when she died in his arms. When she went into convulsions and thrashed around, he just assumed that he had finally discovered that 'G-spot' thing he had read about in Dorothea's back issues of Cosmopolitan.

"YES!" he thought to himself at the time - I be Da Man!

But when she didn't wake up when it was his turn, Dwight got worried and then had to man-handle the woman he loved by performing CPR on her and then calling 911.

Dwight mourned for what seemed like days. In actuality it was months. Then he decided it was time to move on and so he moved on up to an early-retirement community highrise called 'Stayin' Alive' on the outskirts of town. Second-floor balcony apartment right over the shuffleboard court.

It should be pointed out that Dwight just felt that he needed a change. He was still almost five years shy of the official retirement age. And for someone who had spent the major part of his life in the accounting department of Lumley's Automotive Parts, mandatory retirement couldn't happen fast enough. Dwight had sensed a change in the women at work not long after he had stopped wearing black after Dorothea's untimely demise - as he preferred to refer to it.

He had noticed that the sympathetic smiles now came with a barely noticeable accompanying flick of the tongue along the lower lip. He had noticed that when two of them were at the water-cooler, they stopped talking as he passed them on his way to the can.

Occassionally, he would catch snatches of their whispers after he had squeezed past them - "did you hear, she died in the saddle, riding Custer's horse onto Little Big Horn." Or "Word is that he had pleasured her to death."

In all truthiness, if Dorothea was around to comment, she would appraise Dwight as having been a good provider and a good father-figure for their two cockadoodle pups - Paris and Blanket. And that he was a kind ("kinda gentle, then kinda rough") but adequate lover on their weekly romps in the sack.

Like all men of course, Dwight thought he was more than adequate. As Dwight T, was prone to yelling out upon reaching his climax - "The 'T' is for TERRRRRIIIIFFffic." As far as he was concerned, as a stud, Dwight was the greatest thing since the discovery of ejaculation.

And on the sixth month anniversary of Dorothea's death, Dwight unexpectedly found himself back in the dating game again. Unexpected because this time around, he made no effort. In fact, a relationship with a woman was the last thing he wanted. And that seemed to only make them want him more. To Dwight's complete dismay, things just kind of fell in his lap.

Before long, Dwight was getting more tail than you could shake a turkey drumstick at.

No one was more surprised about this than Dwight. At the age of 59, Dwight looked good for his age but even he knew that his days as an Adonis were long behind him. Just the same, although he made no effort at living a healthy lifestyle, he still looked pretty good. In recent years he had detected a slightly receding hairline which was barely noticeable if he tilted his head upwards at a certain angle. He was about twenty pounds overweight, but that disappeared when he sucked in his gut. And the black-frame glasses he had worn since high-school were now back in style and so he looked cool again.

But when it came to women, Dwight didn't understand it at all. Suddenly, he was the man every woman wanted to sleep with. They were all curious about a man who could deliver an orgasm so intense it could possibly kill you. Like snatching Life from the jaws of Death. In his social world, at parties, after he had left the room, Dorothea's old friends would whisper and then giggle about 'Mister Terrific.' At work, their code name for him was 'Don Draper.'

Dwight of course, never said 'no.' Whether it was some well-meaning best friend of his dead wife who told herself she was only doing this out of pity, or that crazy nutbar from the mailroom with the death wish, Dwight didn't turn any of them down. He didn't want to hurt their feelings. Plus there was the fact that after six months of mourning, he was horney. Plus there was the fact that he was lonely. He missed Dorothea.

As for the sex, sometimes it was good, sometimes it was memorable. It was never bad. As for the 'relationship' part, sometimes it was adequate. But usually, after the woman had rolled off him and fell asleep, Dwight would ask himself the same question - sometimes like a prayer of thanks, sometimes not - "What did I do to deserve this?"

Then he would remember the way Dorothea looked when she was buttering toast or when she sat up in bed reading with her glasses on and the strap of her nightgown falling off her right shoulder and then he would turn over on his side, his back to the woman and try not to cry.

Who I WON'T be Voting for Mayor

It must have been a major disappointment for Jim Chapman's Army when the self-proclaimed Voice of the Silent Majority decided to keep quiet on who he thinks is best qualified for the job of Mayor.

He's had no problems suggesting who of those running for City Council should get your vote in today's election. But in the October 22nd edition of Jim Chapman's The Voice of London, in a column titled, 'A Personal Take on Anne Marie and Joe,' Jim reveals that after much soul-searching, he decided that he just couldn't do that with the Mayor's race because both leading candidates were such close personal friends of his. Have you noticed how in these Facebook days, just how cheapened that word 'friend' has become?

On the basis of their friendships, Jim wouldn't want to offend either incumbent Mayor Anne Marie or challenger Joe Fontana by endorsing the other candidate. Well, let's get this straight - as a media personality, Jim's relationship with any politician is that of a "paid friend." And vice-versa.

After the election, I'm sure that whichever one of the top two mayoral candidates do not win, that person could care less if they ever see/hear from Jim Chapman again. If Jim was such close personal friends with either of these people, how come you never see them out bowling together? How can you say you're good friends with someone when you never go bowling with them? For that matter, when was the last time Jim went fishin' with either Joe or Anne Marie?

As others have pointed out, the real reason why Jim has decided not to publicly endorse one over the other is because he doesn't want to recommend his prefered choice and then possibly lose access to the other when she is re-elected. Simple as that.

When it comes to the biggest, most important race of this entire municipal election -to say that you won't name your top pick for the top job in town on the basis of friendship is delusional at best; lazy, misleading and self-serving at the least; and a totally gutless chicken-shit move at the worse.

If I was one of Jim's Silent Majority, I'd feel a might cheated. But if they know how to read between the lines, in that same column, in assessing each of the two mayoral candidates strengths and weaknesses, Jim makes it pretty apparent who he truly favours and does so without even having the balls to name him.

You can read between the lines yourself at www.thevoiceoflondon.ca - but to spare you the time, Jim likes Joe because he believes a zero-per-cent tax-freeze without reducing services for four years is do-able. His unspoken main problem with Anne Marie seems to be that she isn't Eddie Francis, the Mayor of Windsor.

... Here at the Sonny Drysdale Presents Media Empire, I would never presume to suggest how anyone should vote. However, I have no qualms about telling you who I DID NOT vote for this morning.

We have the safe - but uninspiring - choice of Mayor Anne Marie who is basically running on her record and her on-going theme of onwards and upwards.

And then we have Joe Fontana - long-time former Liberal member of Parliament whose campaign strategy is to promise anything and everything it takes to get elected.

Here are a few of Joe's best - no increase in property taxes during his four-year term - without any cuts in services. Good luck with that one in the real world of unions and city contracts. And that's just one part of how it's not even close to being possible.

Joe will bring 10,000 new jobs to London during his term as Mayor. Well, why stop there Joe? When talking about things you have next to no control over, why not promise 50,000 new jobs? Or maybe a million-kajillion new jobs?

When there was revealed a couple of weeks ago that London was one of the worst offenders for pumping raw sewage into the Thames River because of our ancient sewer system which can't handle heavy rainfall, Joe said he'd do a complete overhaul on our sewers. All without an increase in property taxes of course.

These are all examples of why people are so cynical of politicians these days. These are perfect examples of why you have to be suspicious of anything that comes out of their mouths. These are examples of a seasoned politician who will promise people anything they want to hear because many of them are dumb enough to actually believe it.

While he was promising the moon, his promises became increasingly unrealistic in the last days of the campaign. In fact, I half expected to hear him promise to eliminate both the HST and GST sales tax; to bring home all our troops from Afghanistan before Christmas; no more referendums on Quebec separation - and to reunite the Beatles for a concert at Treasure Island Gardens out past the 401.

But the main reason I didn't vote for Joe? He don't even live here! He lives outside of town in Arva. Why would I think Joe gives a shit about my property taxes when he doesn't pay them to the same municipality himself?

I tell you, if Londoners are actually gullible enough to believe this guy's guff and make him Mayor - I'm leaving the country.

Cheap Shots at Jim Chapman's Voter 'Suggestions.'

In his column for the October issue of Business London magazine, Jim Chapman did his now very tired rant on how this city council got rid of Board of Control and divvied up the Ward structure in this town so that we no longer had two representatives per ward but just one.

I agree with him about the Board of Control part. But it's done. And was done in democratic fashion, so I figure that since London, Ont. was the last city in Canada to get rid of their Board of Control, it might be time to get over it and join in the new millenium.

One of Jim's complaints in the column was how a group called Imagine London representing "a vision of a small group of social engineers" had succeeded in their scheme and "carved London into small fiefdoms where it would be easier to elect and re-elect their left-wing candidates." Boy, talk about your conspiracy theorists. Is that same group affiliated with The New World Order?

BUT - why can't you say the same thing about the other side - the right-wingers and so-called fiscally responsible bunch? It works both ways. And that's why I dread the thought of another four-years of a flip-flopping half-wit like Bud Polhill. I might say that Bud leans to the right-wing side, but depending the prevailing wind of public opinion on any given issue, he has shown an undeniable knack for leaning to the left as well.

And according to Jim's definition of the perils of the new ward system, it's also why an INCUMBENT councillor like Steve Orser has an advantage over a clearly better choice than challenger Greg Thompson.

Anyway, let's get to Jim's "suggestions" on "who should get your vote" as recorded with no explanation in yesterday's last issue before the election of Jim Chapman's Voice of London. Or is it Jim Chapman IS the Voice of London? I never know how to read that title.

In the same issue, Jim has a column about how he won't come out and endorse either of the only two real contenders for the Mayor's race because both Mayor Anne-Marie and her rival Joe Fontana are close personal friends of his.

Presumably, Jim has no such qualms about offending his friends who are running in the Ward races for City Council because he names his choices in predictable fashion.

NOTE - Jim claims to have based all his recommendations on the basis of each candidates fiscal/financial attitude, their hands-on knowledge as business people on how to spend/waste a dollar and whether or not they are "cash-conscious" when it would come to investing or throwing away your tax-dollars.

Here's Jim's picks -

Ward 1 - Bud Polhill. Quel surprise. Jim's best friend. True, Bud has had his own auto-repair business for decades. But just how fiscally responsible is he? I ask this because in the past few days, Bud has been running radio advertisements asking to be re-elected. At the end, they say something to the effect that this commercial was paid for by Citizens to Re-elect Bud Polhill.

Now, this must be pointed out - Bud has absolutely NO serious challengers in the 'battle' for Ward 1. He's more or less guaranteed the seat because he has no real competition.

So just how "cash-conscious" is it to be wasting his supporters' donations (or even worse, some of his own money,) on expensive radio-spots when everyone knows he's a shoo-in anyway?

Oh, I suppose a cynical person might suggest that by repeating the name "Polhill" over and over again, some voters might get confused and think that it's a commercial for his son Steve Polhill who is running in Ward 2 - but I'm not that jaded.

Ward 2 - Steve Polhill. Cash-conscious? Would a grown man still have to depend on his dad for his weekly allowance? Oops, I meant paycheque. Also running - incumbent Bill Armstrong - who unwillingly has had to feud with the Polhill clan in the hills of East London for years but who also has a long history of being re-elected by the people who live out there.

Ward 3 - Henry Zupanac. I don't know much about him but I know he isn't Joe Swan who is also running. Swan is a one-time NDPer and former Board of Controller who kicked off the whole movement to get rid of Board of Control and yet when elected to it, did nothing to get rid of it. Gina Barber, he ain't. But if I lived there, I'd vote for him. Talk about fiscally-responsible? Since leaving city politics, Joe is the guy who saved Orchestra London from their very likely inevitable death.

Ward 4 - Steve Orser - Now this is the really puzzling one of Jim's endorsements. Because Steve has been VERY LOUD about having City Councillors become FULL-TIME JOBS. Which of course means full-time pay. And presumably, the same full-time benefits most places offer. As for a pension, who knows how far his greed exceeds?

The head-scratching part of Jim's endorsement though is he is totally against this idea. In fact, the other day on his radio program, he went into full-blown rant&rave mode about how city-council members were "OVERPAID" as it was - "Forty grand for a part-time job?! Give me a break!"

Then there's that whole 'back-yard chickens' thing and how Steve thinks London could get in on the ground floor of the business of making diapers for chickens.

Geeeezzzz! This one was a joke, right Jim? You threw that one in to make sure no one was sleeping?

Wards 5 and 6 - no recommendation from Jim on either. Apparently, if you live in those two parts of town, Jim couldn't care less who represents you. Just so you know - in Ward 6, incumbent Nancy Branscombe is running. In Ward 7, incumbent Joni Baechler is running. Both are the top two Killer B's and neither did an interview with The Voice. They are what Jim refers to as 'social engineers' and left-wingers. And they are running against people with such little public profile that Jim won't even talk about that race. In short, both 'B's are on Jim's shit-list.

Ward 7 - Justin Samlal. Don't know him but Jim has been blowing his horn on the radio a lot lately. "I really have a lot of time for this kid. 'Kid,' I say? Well he's nearly 30." Now, that just sounds scary to me. I wish you well Justin.

Who else with more experience in knowing city hall is running in Ward 7? Why, Phil McLeod! Former editor of the London Free Press and The Londoner. Hmmm, did Jim ever have a weekly column in The Londoner? And when Rogers-Television didn't pick up Jim Chapman's talk show, didn't they replace it with a similar local-affairs program hosted by - wait for it - Phil McLeod?

Ward 8 - Paul Hubert. Good for you, Jim. You finally got one right. I'm guessing Herm talked him into this one.

Ward 9 - Dale Henderson. That's Dale who should not be confused with Ward rival Gina Barber, also of the Killer B's. Dale is the fellow who bought the old IMAX Theatre at the Western Fair and turned it into a Musical Theatre Hall. He must know what he's doing because when I first heard of his plans, frankly, I thought the man was nuts. I just assumed he would be out of business in a year. Because London has a long tradition of doing that to people who want to open a new entertainment venue here. So good for him!

But as much as I admire Dale for sinking his life-savings into this venture - to do such a thing in THIS TOWN shows that he's also a gambler. I don't know if I want someone gambling with my tax-dollars.

Ward 10 - Paul VanMeerbergen. I love this guy. I'm only sorry he didn't run for Mayor. I would have voted for him. Say what you will about his chintziness with a dollar, but it's all genuine. Not nuts about the fact that there wouldn't be any city dollars going towards arts, recreation or culture (this is the guy who once suggested closing city pools and reducing snow-removal as ways to cut-back on city-expenses in our budget,) but if Mayor, from what I've heard, Paul would only have one vote. Hopefully, wiser heads would prevail.

Ward 11 - Denise Brown. Works for Aboutown Transportation, one of Jim's clients in his public-relations consulting business. 'Nuff said. She very well might be cash-conscious. She sent flyers out through the bulk-mail route via Canada Post which seems a pretty cost-efficient way of doing things. But I received two of them the very same day. True, it likely was just a mistake on the part of my mailman, but my first thought was, 'Geez, what a spendthrift!'

Denise's main competition is the incumbent and a former member of provincial parliament with the NDP, David Winninger who isn't stingy with his vote when it comes to tax-dollars being spent on friviolities such as public housing, culture and skate-board parks for bored teenagers as a way to keep them out of trouble and off the streets.

Ward 12 - Harold Usher. I don't get this one. Harold was more than happy to get rid of Board of Control. But maybe that's the 'cash-conscious' side of the guy.

Ward 13 - Chris Edgar. Not long ago, Jim spent about half his show talking about the importance and significance of election signs. And that they can be an indication of whether people in the community support you and your ideas and vision to such an extent that they would donate money to your campaign and you could afford to have a few signs made up.

Well, unlike Chris Edgar, I live in Ward 13 and without exception, all the signs (and there are LOTS of them,) on my street are for the incumbent Judy Bryant. In fact I haven't seen even ONE sign on this side of the Thames for either Chris or he other candidate Mary Bray. But I understand the sad reality it is for a newcomer like Chris Edgar to raise funds your first time out. I'll say this for her, she went door to door all by herself this past Sunday and I liked her flyer. Especially the part of hoping to do something about the Springbank Dam fiasco. No one else in this election has even brought that issue up and she might just get my vote for it.

But I don't expect she will get many more. I suspect that Jim's endorsement is because incumbent Bryant is also one of the 'B's he loves to hate.

Ward 14 - Jared Zaifman. Sounds good to me. Given the choice of some of the other candidates, including former underachieving councillor Sandy White who was defeated in the last election - well, why not?

Besides, Jared bought an advertisement in the latest issue of 'The Beat' magazine and it is placed opposite my monthly column 'Drysdale's World.'
... see, I'm just as much a shill and blatant opportunist as Jim, but at least I'm honest about it.

Jared is young, but I tellya, I gotta lotta time for this kid. Kid? What am I saying, he looks to be in his thirties and is also a successful businessman with some good fresh ideas. AND he supports a local Arts magazine. How many candidates are smart enough to do that?

Jim Chapman - Follow the Money

From the October 22nd edition of 'Jim Chapman's The Voice of London,' in an column called 'Downtown: The Heart of the Matter,' Jim gives a good free plug for Ward 13 City Council candidate Mary Bray and quotes at length from her campaign material about the importance of our historic downtown, preserving heritage buildings etc.

Now, as the councillor who represents downtown, incumbent Judy Bryant has been saying all this stuff in council chambers for the past two terms and is downtown London's biggest booster and most vocal advocate - AND actually gets things done.

But why quote Judy when you have access to Mary Bray's election flyer. To tell you the truth, until 71-year-old Bray announced her candidacy a couple of months ago, I didn't even know she was still alive, let alone living in town. Mary Bray, as everyone knows is the former business partner of Downtown London's Biggest Landlord - who just also happens to be the most important client in Jim's public-relations consulting business.

What Jim is leading up to in all this is the new retail development to be built on the existing parking lot at "Richmond and Clarence" streets. Well actually Jim, it's Richmond and CARLING - but that's okay.

It's to be a giant Shoppers Drug Mart. The big kind which also sells groceries. Everyone keeps saying if you want people to move and live downtown, we need a grocery store there. Well, for the time being, this is as good as we're going to get.

What ruffles Jim's feathers is that overtop the store, there will be office space for rent. There is also talk of residential space for rent, but Jim doesn't mention that.

Downtown office space is a big issue for Jim. According to him, many city councillors "fail to grasp the essential reality of London's downtown: we have too much empty office space, more than 700,000 square feet of it in fact."

Not so uncoincidently, most of that space is owned by Downtown London's Biggest Landlord. Now, I'm no financial genius, but it would seem to me that if there is a glut of unrented office space downtown, it might be a good idea to STOP BUYING HALF EMPTY OFFICE BUILDINGS! Such as the recent purchase of the Market Tower at Richmond and Dundas.

The only other person who complains about this more than Jim is Downtown London's Biggest Landlord, himself. That and about the lack of parking for the few people who do live and work in his buildings.

Which brings us to Jim's last paragraph on the matter is when he admonishes city council for its recent "approval of significant zoning exemptions for a new building at Richmond and Clarence which will eat up existing and badly needed parking spaces, provide a new home for a drug-store chain that will then close its existing outlet a block away on Dundas Street, and create thousands of feet of - wait for it - new office space!"

Can you imagine that? Normally, Jim rants about how developers have to jump through hoops of red-tape and road-blocks at City Hall when they want to initiate a new project. But now he's criticizing city council for actually trying to help this group.

God forbid, we don't want any new retail, office or residential development in our dying downtown. Especially if it means getting rid of a parking lot. Just what world is this guy fuckin' living in?

As with all head-scratching statements from Jim, all you have to do is follow the money. That drug-store chain which will close their existing store on Dundas Street when it moves into the bigger location? They currently are located in Market Tower. They are soon-to-be former tenants of Downtown London's Biggest Landlord.

Jim Chapman to Bill Brady - Watch Yer Ass!

(photo lifted without permission from Butch McLarty's www.altlondon.org )

Dear Readers - and welcome to all you first time callers and any long-time listeners out there.

In search of a good example of a 'Jim Chapman Boner of the Week', I went to the Radio 980 website. I had heard bits of Jim's lecture this morning and it occured to me that this 'Bill Armstrong' fellow might want to sue him.

I won't bore you with the details but if you want the actual re-broadcast and hear it for yourself, it's not hard to find. ... that's AM-Radio 980 - or the old 'CFPL' you would tune into to when you were a kid and it was a Snow-Day and your mom didn't believe you.

Well, I went to the 980 website looking for the archives of today's broadcast, but didn't make it there.

Got stopped at the 'Bio' for Jim Chapman,

Turns out that he is not only the "Voice of London" - kinda of a stretch, since London voters have told him in no uncertain terms that 'NO, YOU DO NOT SPEAK FOR ME,' in three elections.

Then there's his claim to being the 'Talk of the Town.' If true, Gott helpen London.

But it was his latest self-proclaimed undeserved claim for Greatness, which really says everything you need to know about the man's immense ego.

Check out this from the Radio 980 website's biography - "The Dean of London talk show hosts ..."

"The Dean" ???

"The DEAN" ????!!!???

... the 'Dean' as in 'Walter Cronkite'? The 'Dean' as in 'Edward R. Murrow?

Oh, that's right. Jim likes to use the excuse that he's not a 'journalist' - he's a regular guy who just happens to have his own radio show because he has just the right amount of sponsors in the development business to fund his air-time.

But 'The Dean'?

Well friends, I can't claim to know ALL the people involved in what makes good interesting 'talk' broadcasting in this town - but after listening for decades, I can tell you this -

that list would start with BILL PAUL, the absolute master of knowing how to talk to someone on the air and make them sound interesting.

there are the other obvious names as well - Steve Garrison, Ryan Spence, Pete James, Andy Noodleman, Shauna Rae ... and over at the other station, the now-retired Peter Garland and that McArthur fellow.

I've been listening to Jeff McA doing the talk show bit for about a year and he's the future of Local Talk Radio in this town. Usually knows what he's talking about, not afraid to make an opinion and able to walk that fine line of knowing how talk to callers with differing thoughts without sounding like a rude close-minded jerk about it. And most importantly - he's not a shill for advertisers. He don't suck up to anyone.

But for Jim Chapman to call himself 'the Dean,' shows nothing but disresect for Mister Bill Brady, the guy who pioneered in this town the very same thing of which Jim claims to be the grand-daddy. AT THE VERY SAME STATION!

Personally, I didn't really like Brady's show. But in retrospect, it was a generational thing - my parents were into Elvis and I was more of a Herb
Alpert and the Tijuana Brass kinda kid.

Then, as of now, Bill Brady, as an opinion-editorialist for the London Free Press, where he sends in an column every two weeks or so from Florida about how the young people are starting to wear tatoos and their skirts too short, yes, even I roll my eyes. Rory Leishman, he ain't. BUT, say what you will, Bill Brady IS and deserves to be THE DEAN of talk-radio in this town.

For anyone else to claim that title - while Bill is still alive(!) and at his old station (!) is about as disrespectful of our industry's Veterans as you can get.

Needless to say, it's also the the ultimate in self-delusion. But that goes without saying. I mean, if he's that far deluded in just where how brightly his star will ultimately shine (and for goodness sakes, we're only talking about morning show London Ontario AM-radio here!) just how seriously can you take anything else he says?

But as for the here and now - regardless of how irrelevent Bill Brady is in the Facebook/Twitter age where everyone has a tatoo- DEAN BILL BRADY has left his mark. ... Just the other day, I was listening to the Mister Know-It-All News Hour on Bill's old station and one of the current host's fans called in (after dragging her cat out of a tree and taking her pills for her lumbago,) and asked, "Bill? ... Is that you, Bill? Well-sir, it's almost the Thanksgiving weekend. Are we still going to be doing the Bunny Bundle this year?"

May 'Dean' Chapman be so lovingly remembered.

C'mon Jim. Sure you've been on the radio for a few years, but please have the decency to at least wait until the guy is dead before going around town proclaiming yourself as 'The Dean,' of local talk radio. Because that's just a no-class move.

And even before then, if you really want to be considered good enough for the local talk-radio hall of fame? ... Try taking some phone calls on air! That's why they call it "open-line radio."

Jim Chapman's Boner of the Week. NEW!

Kinda new anyway, as of last week and heard on the Jim Chapman Lecture Series on Radio, probably on Thursday.

Jim was talking municipal election coverage and the bit of a 'dust-up' in the London Free Press and on the *other* AM-radio station in town about the 'disgraceful' condition of Veterans' Memorial Parkway and how it was full of litter and garbage and overgrown.

If you paid any attention to this you would know that Ward 2 candidate Steve Polhill (son of current Board of Controller Bud Polhill who now hopes to be elected city-councillor in Ward 1,) was mounting a volunteer effort for this past Sunday to get the Parkway cleaned up. Then he complained through 'the social network' and then the 'mainstream media' that his rival for votes in Ward 2 - the incumbent councillor Bill Armstrong had put in an official complaint to City Hall about tax-payers dollars being used for free garbage bags for the clean-up. The implication being that Armstrong had no respect for veterans.

The Free Press did a little digging and found out that Armstrong had in fact complained to City Staff MONTHS AGO about how bad the roadway meant to honour war-veterans looked - and had been the FIRST city politician to do so. As for Steve Polhill's accusation that Armstrong had made the petty complaint about city-owned garbage bags being used for this volunteer clean-up, the Free Press reported that Armstrong had denied this and in fact, told the confidentialty people at City Hall to check their records, make them public - and this would prove that there was no communication from Armstrong for such a request.

Jim Chapman, however, when he talked about this on his current events radio show on Thursday didn't mention any of these facts which would put Armstrong in a good light. He dismissed all talk about the hostility between the candidates with a condescending "I hear they're having a bit of a tussle over there - 'twittering' and 'facebooking' back and forth." Oh, those kids!

He then went on to compliment young Steve Polhill for initiating such a positive community volunteer event. To anyone else, this 'clean-up' would be seen as an obvious blatant electioneering and grandstanding due to being organized and happening only three weekends before the election.

Jim didn't see it that way though - young Steve Polhill was just doing something on his own to show his respect for our war vets and because the City wasn't doing anything about it.

Well, of course, everyone else asked themselves - IF Steve Polhill had been so upset about this for so long, why did he wait until almost the end of campaigning to make a big deal about it?

More importantly, if he had - as he claims - to have had many discussions with Daddy 'Bud' Polhill about how bad the Parkway was, and what an insult its condition was to 'Our Boys,' then WHY didn't he just ask his dad to use his influence as a member of Board of Control and make a few phone calls and get a maintenance crew of city-workers out there? I mean, if you are a member of Board of Control, do you not have at least some kind of pull and power at City Hall? If not, what's the point? If a City Controller can't get a few city-employeed feet on the job over a period of months then he's even more inept than most of us have suspected.

No, everyone KNOWS that this was just a cheap election stunt and a very cynical and dishonest way of casting a rival candidate in a bad light in the theatre of public opinion. For proof of just how blatant the grandstanding was, all you need to know is that media-pig Steve Orser, the incumbant candidate for Ward 4 showed up to lend a hand and hopefully get his picture taken for the paper or on the TV.

Chapman himself had mentioned that *he* was planning on helping out at the clean-up. And we all got a good chuckle out of that - the image of Jim Chapman in a pair of duck-boots, a pair of coveralls borrowed from Orser, a garbage bag in his hand while he picked up litter with the other - I tellya, it's hilarious!

Of course it never happened. The day after Jim first mentioned helping out (and after suggesting that his listeners might want to do the same - for the vets,) the next day on the radio, after another reminder about the volunteer event, he then casually mentioned a flu bug which had been going through the station. As for his no-show - Quel surprise.

But that first day on the radio last week when he brought the subject up, Jim wouldn't wade into any mess that would show his best friend Bud to be the useless, ineffectual member of city-council that he is.

Instead, he did some on-air electoral endorsements.

Which brings us to Jim Chapman's Boner(s) of the Week.

"If you like Bud, you'll like Steve. He's a chip off the ol' block."

Now this ain't necessarily a good thing. Not exactly a flattering comparison during an election for municipal government.

... Does this mean that if elected to city council, Steve will emulate his dad by flip-flopping on various issues once he ascertains how the winds of public-opinion are blowing?

... Will Steve vote one way and then when questioned about it by the Free Press say something he will 'kinda' deny when interviewed about it the next day on the radio? "Well yes, I did vote that way and I did make that comment to Jonathan Sher - BUT that's not what I meant to say." Or use that old standby - 'Well city staff didn't give us all the information. And we had to vote RIGHT that minute!'

... and more importantly - if, or if not elected - will Steve Polhill follow family tradition by alerting the media ten months before the next municipal election that he is considering taking a run for the Mayor's chair?

Since Jim Chapman didn't want to get into the 'personal' politics of this specific election race, after he did all his cheerleading for Team Polhill, this is what he had to say about Steve's rival Bill Armstrong -

- "Well, ... what can you say about Bill Armstrong ..." Jim asked. Then as if grasping for *something* positive to say about him, he comes up with "... I guess the people out there like him."

Yeah, I guess they do, Jim. They like him so much that they've been re-electing him for years. They like him so much that in the last municipal election four years ago, the voters said 'No thanks' when offered a choice between Armstrong and Steve Polhill and picked him again.

But being re-elected or even elected isn't something Jim Chapman would know anything about. He's a three-time loser when it comes to running for public office. This guy couldn't get himself elected if his name was 'Mahmoud Ahmadinejad.'

And yet, despite Londoners having told him on three separate occassions that they don't like him, his politics or opinions, he still has the audacity to call himself 'The Voice of London,' and use that misnomer in his attempt to advise gullible members of 'Chapman's Army' a.k.a. 'The Silent Majority' a phrase he appropriately stole from the disgraced Richard M. Nixon. When it comes to telling people how or who to vote for, the man has as much credibility as Tricky Dick.

Now that I think of it, you don't hear Jim tossing that 'Silent Majority' thing out there much anymore. Maybe someone better versed in History than 'The Perfesser,' suggested that it might not be a good idea.

I Like David Sedaris - Don't Love him tho

There's something very refreshing about waking up at 3:00 in the morning on your day off and having a cigarette in the backyard while the dog looks for squirrels and chipmunks far too smart to be up at that hour.

I'm not a smoker, but lately I've become accustomed to gratefully finding a half pack of Players Smooth Regular Smalls in my pocket on the weekends. Or hidden in my sock drawer. Next to the long empty vial of poppers I keep around just to remind myself of a long ago time in which I was once interesting.

And that morning smoke is one of the few times I actually enjoy having a cigarette these days. As everyone else is sleeping, I have a few strong leisurely drags and feel at peace with the rest of the world - who I won't even have to deal with for a few more hours.

I got into this habit - and yes, I'm honest enough to admit it's a regular thing - last spring when the weather turned nice and the dog wanted to spend some time in the backyard. 'Fine,' I thought. I'm not one to deny any living creature their right to fresh air. Or myself the chance to see a Great Dane do an instinctive roll in the grass and then chase imaginary rabbits by running in a perfect Figure-8 routine most professional ice-skaters would kill to master.

In the beginning, I'd bring out a book. And spend most of my time watching the dog and waiting for her to do the 'happy' dance that Snoopy used to do. Then, knowing my attention-span was waning, I started bringing out a magazine. Then, realizing that nothing on the printed page could hold my interest for more than five seconds, I'd bring out my collection of the most recent grocery-store flyers. But they only come out once a week so I had to resort to dragging out the London Free Press. 'Dragging out' or 'hauling out' are misleading terms because the paper itself is awfully thin. The Saturday edition can be easily read in five minutes. And that's including the Funnies - both the colour comics and that day' black-and-whites opposite the obituaries.

But it was while perusing that useless rag one morning last spring while the sun was coming up that I came upon an unexpected name in one of the advertisments in the weekend Entertainment section. I was having my first of three morning coffees and my first and last-of-the day cigarette (by this time, I knew I was hooked - but thought 'Well, if I'm gonna be out here waiting for someone to move their bowels, I might as well be doing something productive.' Which is a far more goal-worthy aspiration than what I told my mother, when she questioned me in high-school as to whether I was smoking because I liked it or because I had succumbed to peer group pressure and just wanted to look cool. It's a disconcerting feeling when your mother uses words like 'cool.' Or 'making the scene.' Or "Oh, I suppose you're just trying to be a little Henry Winkler," she would say. Then she would ask - in the worst-ever Samuel Jackson imitation - "and everyone knows what a little Henry Winkler is, don' they?" And I'd play along and say "Cool. All us little Fonzies are cool."

Kinda lame I know - but better than my response to the teachers who chaperoned our smoking pit and asked the same questions about peer-group pressure. I'd always answer "Well YEAH! Why else would I be smoking? For the good of my health?!?" If pressured as to just when I was going to quit, Mister Smarty-Pants would respond with "What do you think I'm waiting for? Christmas?" Kinda lame, I know.

And yet almost four decades later, here I sit, counting down the hours until I will permit myself to have my next one. 23 hours away.

Anyhoo, on one of the first nice days of last spring, there I sat one late April morning, having already enjoyed the first half my cigarette and trying to convince myself that the second half would be just as much fun, when I came across a big ad in the London Free Press about a reading to be given at Centennial Hall that fall by this writer guy named David Sedaris.

I immediately ordered a handful of tickets. I'm not much of a reader. But I'd read one of his books. And I can't even claim to have discovered it myself. First-born child gave it to me. 'Naked,' it was called. Maybe it was because Mavis and I had taken up the nudist life-style now that all the kids had moved out and we'd discovered the joys of cold potato soup. Despite the off-putting title, it was a true readers' delight. Every sentence was golden. Every last sentence in a paragraph was like a punchline. It was so good that I soon began taking it out to the backyard. And actually read it while the dog was doing her thing. But I wouldn't know because my eyes barely left the printed page. And, without realizing it, I would wait until the end of the chapter before I would have a cigarette. Kinda like sex, but without the intercourse part. He's a VERY funny guy.

Tickets in hand, I took First-born child, her guest and Mavis to the show last night. I paid big bucks for ninety minutes of just listening to someone read his own words. That's pretty well unheard of in this town. Jerry Seinfeld is one thing, but Sedaris is one of those guys who writes *books.* "Why doncha just take one of his books out of the library?" was the response from most people when I told them I bougut tickets for this show. We like to pretend here in Hicksville Ohio that London, ONT is this big university town where the 'Ahhts' and Kulture are revered and respected but we ain't.

Anything to do with art or creativity is either taken for granted or spoken about in the most condescending of tones - "Ohhh you're a writer! How interesting! You know, my sister had a letter printed in the London Free Press about this problem she is having with her feet. No, they aren't bunions the doctor told her and since it had to do with these growths coming out of her big toe - and both big toes, mind you - well, I said "Sister, don't you listen to him. You go see a specialist. What you need is a feet specialist. One who specializes in the big toe. And sure enough she saw this proctologist fellow. And do you know what? After that her letter was printed in the newspaper. Well, what do you think about that?!"

But I suppose just the fact that a 'name' writer like David Sedaris would even consider coming to this town (the just-released new book and being paid upfront in cash notwithstanding,) is something. And the fact that about 800 people showed up is promising. Lord knows, they all looked like they drove down from Toronto or Drumbo, but for a change, when a big name comes to town, I didn't feel embarrassed for them.

After the show and he finished signing all those books, Dave came over. We always get together when he's on the continent, and these days, that's very rarely. Only for book tours and family funerals.

Mavis and I had met him and his partner Hughie a few years back when we were on a bus tour of Provahhanschhe over in France with Mike Todd and his wife Delores. So when Dave and the Hughmeister are on this side of the pond, the six of us like to get together for some backyard ping-pong.

And last night was no exception. Of course Michael had his banjo with him. And as he plunked out a new tune that he insisted everyone listen to, Dave and I slipped out and I had a smoke on the porch.

David was telling me about how he quit smoking. It involved moving to France and taking a very long airplane ride. In fact, he'd written an entire book about it.
I thanked him for his concern and then told him to fuck off. We both laughed, we hugged, he kissed me on the cheek and shortly afterwards far too soon he was gone.

Now, here I sit at 4:30 in the morning in the backyard, Dave's new book in my lap, hoping the dog don't wake that skunk under the shed and trying not to cry as I savour the last drags of the well-loved fag in my hand.

Five minutes later, I tossed the rest of the pack in the garbage. Again.