You deserve better, Hubbards

HUBBARDS IS A STATE OF MIND

Do you know what I have in front of me? How could you? You can’t see it. But I’ll tell you. It’s a small folded white card. On one side it says, among other things: “Shore Club, ‘Last of the Great Dance Halls,'” and on the other, “The Original Nova Scotia Lobster Supper (since 1936).” Inside the card is printed the “Schedule of Events” listing some 42 occasions held during the evenings of the summer of 2007. (Lobster Suppers started May 13.) I was there in early June and, except for the locals with permanent trailers, I had the campground pretty well to myself. (I was alone.) I had the last site on the right in my 15’ 1977 Trillium fibreglass trailer (I didn’t buy it new) facing the ocean through the trees. In the morning Roy Harnish, the owner, would take his morning stroll along the beach and back to his house. He died shortly after.

For exercise each morning I would walk along the Shore Club Road right to the area where there is now a park. I’d sit down and look out over Hubbards Bay. There used to be a general store on the spot just by the bridge over the rushing river which must have been torn down to make room for the park. You could buy anything there but in 2007 I had to go to the little shoping center mentioned on this thread for my gum-gum..

In the afternoons I would take my canvas chair, book and some liquid refreshment and set up shop for the rest of the day. The water was paralyzingly cold at that time of year so it was just the sandy beach for me. But I didn’t mind.

Anyway, Hubbards has always been a “state of mind” for me as I had been going there since I was fifteen. As a matter of fact I was there even earlier with my mother and older brother staying at what was then called the Iona Hotel, now called The Quarterdeck. On Saturday night my mother and I would hear the raucous music coming across the Shore Club Road from what was then the (no longer existing) Iona Dance Hall where my brother was kicking up his heels. Judging from the noise – this was not a Bach quartet playing – there was a lot of action including fistfights outside on the grass. The good ol’ boys from the area were blowing off some Saturday night steam. Being more sophisticated, as you can imagine, my dancing scene was at the more elegant and select Shore Club itself.

During my teens and early twenties it was weekends romancing under the blanket on Hubbards Beach – yes, there were girls there too, one of whom I eventually married – and then the drive back to Halifax on the old #3. (This was before the 103.) A lovely drive.

So, as I walked down the Shore Club Road to the park in 2007, you could say that I was in my Hubbards “state of mind.” And you would be right.

A pleasure as always.

Cheerio!

RSPS

: Wheeliep (Dec. 18, 2:31PM)

Is there whimsy here? An odd post suggestive of severe mental unbalance – even retardation – which, unsuprisingly, gestures toward morally questionable inter-species relationships. However, as in the case rage-fuelled mental disorders, recent advances in therapeutic treatment for cases of this sort hold out distinct possibilities for ameloriation if not for a complete cure.

2 of 2 people liked this, but I was not one of them.

A pleasure as always.

Cheerio!

RSVPs

: Wheeliep Bader (Dec. 18, 4:33PM)

– Is some editing needed here?

Shouldn’t that be “RSPS (sic)”; the “Philisophical (sic) Cock of the walk” (sic- capitalization of complete proper names, please); “an odd reply following a few day (sic) break…” and so on.

– Is some coherence needed here?

Montrealman is purportedly “saddened to realize the Imitator’s posts say as much as his own.” Of course, Montrealman recognizes the fact that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery but, simultaneously, he is puzzled by the content of the Imitator’s assertion itself since, beyond gesturing toward inter-species activities of questionable moral probity, he was unable to see ANY content.

– Is some therapeutic intervention needed here?

In the case of the above-mentioned “inter-species activities,” initial treatment in the form of Aversion Therapy is recommended. Montrealman will flash images of furry bunnies on the screen while his assistant, Jim Kramer, will operate the electro-shock machine. The electrodes, of course, are attached to the Imitator’s (very) sensitive parts. Jim has indicated that he will exercise restraint unless provoked.

6 of 6 people liked this – exceeding expectations, I note – which suggests clear evidence of vote rigging.

A pleasure as always.

Cheerio!

THE CHRISTMAS WHIPPETS!

Here are Alice (on the left) and Daisy, our first whippets! Note that they are wearing their red and green Christmas hats! My wife and I first saw a whippet in at breakfast in our hotel dining room in Mojacar, southern Spain. We were living in Barcelona and returning from an Easter holiday in Morocco. The whippet in question was being led into the room by an elegant senorita (she could have been a senora). She came right into the room. No pet prohibitions there (and then). We were blown away. We liked the whippet as well! (A little joke there.) Immediately on our return to Canada we bought our first whippets, although not at the same time. Alice, the elder, came from the Greymourn’s kennel in Ontario (kennel name: “Greymourn’s Moonshadow”) while Daisy came from the Butternut Kennel in southern Quebec (kennel name: “Butternut’s Freestyle.”) Their picture is hanging right over my desk as I write this. Have a Merry Christmas!

A pleasure as always.

Cheerio!