OK, I'm just gonna drop some names for a moment, so please bear with me.
Over the years, I've performed for Pope John Paul II, Sylvester Stallone, Nicole Kidman, Gene Puerling, Adam Egoyan, Anita O'Day and a few others. It doesn't matter how long I've lived in Toronto, nor does it matter how many people I've met or sung with or for .... I still get star struck when I see someone from television or movies. Thus, the fact that today ended up with me getting a picture taken with Sean McGinley from CBC's "Republic of Doyle" pretty much means I was (a) giddy and (b) thinking that there's no point in writing anything else.
However, there were a few other moments worthy of mentioning so I thought I might as well continue ...
I usually "sleep like the dead" while in Newfoundland, so when I went to bed last night, I expected not to wake much before noon. Alas, I was wrong ... I was awake at the crack of stupid, so I thought I might as well rise and tackle the day. Thank goodness I did, as I suddenly remembered something of which I hadn't taken care back in Toronto, so that meant I had to take my computer somewhere to get it connected to the internet. (My parents only just got high speed internet in the past few years, but it's not wireless, and the way things are wired around here, I sure as hell wasn't going to mess with it for fear of having things get screwed up and have them realize I actually wasn't as technologically savvy as they might have thought me to be.) So, I decided to take the ol' lap top down to "Coffee Matters", a local coffee house that offered free WIFI, as well as good coffee. (My Dad still enjoys instant coffee. God love him - the fact that it doesn't take much to please him works for his marriage, but not so much for my coffee requirements!)
Here's the thing about my family and St. John's: my Dad not only played in a band for a number of years, and is recognized for that, but he's also in the Newfoundland Softball Hall of Fame. Thus, he's fairly well-known around town. The other thing is this ... I'm somewhat "known", for lack of a better term, due to my musical endeavors. Thus, if Dad and I ever go out to run a quick errand, we either (a) can't go together; or (b) can't make eye contact with anyone, because we'll end up engaged in several conversations that, while quite enjoyable, were never intended to take place.
Thus, when I walked into my parents' kitchen to find fruit salad prepared and on the table, the kettle boiling for several cups of tea, and Mom's homemade break toasting in the oven, I had a hard time telling Mom and Dad that I had to "run a quick errand". I explained that I had to e-mail some material that was on my laptop and that it meant I had to find WIFI, so my parents understood my predicament and said they'd save some breakfast for me. I borrowed their car keys, grabbed the ol' computer, and told them I wouldn't be long. I have no idea whether or not they believed me when I said this, but I did notice them removing the third place setting from the table as I was leaving.
Parking is at a bit of a premium around the coffee house, so when I found free parking on the street, I was delighted. I pulled slightly forward, ready to demonstrate my parallel parking prowess when I noticed a car pulling in behind me, as if it was intent on taking my spot. I was just about to demonstrate the depth of my studies in Toronto road rage, when I realized that the driver was inching backwards, so as to allow me to park in front of her. In fact, she waited until I was clearly and fully in a spot before she secured her own parking locale. Ah, Newfoundlanders!!!
I went inside the coffee house, ordered my cafe latte, grabbed a table, pulled out my laptop, and began doing the paperwork and correspondence I needed to do. I was elbow deep into things when I heard: "Lord Jesus, look who it is, luh!" I turned to see my old friend Shelley Neville.
Shelley and I went to high school together. She was a year ahead of me, but looked a lot older, so she was always the one we'd send into convenience stores to buy beer. She NEVER got asked for ID. She was also one of the more clever of my friends and the quickest thinker, so, even if she did get "carded", she'd talk her way out of it. (One time, after making a purchase, she was once questioned by two young men pretending to be police and attempting to confiscate our beer. She quickly flashed her medical card and told them she was a Federal Officer and that her cohorts were staked out in a parked car across the street. She threatened the two guys and said they were interfering with a Federal investigation. I swear, if those guys had stayed 5 minutes longer, she would have had them buying more beer FOR us!) Later, Shelley would become a star student at the University of Toronto Faculty of Music as an Opera Performance major, and has since done some amazing things, from working with the Canadian Opera Company, so performing in major productions in Italy. However, through it all, she has remained very close to home and has done quite well for herself here, in St. John's.
"Missus!" she exclaimed to me. "Are you here to meet us for coffee?"
"Who's 'us'?" I asked.
"Me and Kellie Walsh", Shelley replied.
Immediately, my thoughts returned to the last words I said to Mom and Dad: "I won't be long."
I don't like lying to my parents, so I started feeling a little guilty when I realized that the aforementioned statement was, in fact, about to become a rather significant source of misinformation.
"Yes, b'y .. " (there's that accent, again) "I'll just finish the work I have to do here and then I'll join you", I told Shelley.
With that, in walked Kellie Walsh.
Kellie is the reason I am in Newfoundland right now. She is a phenomenal choral conductor and is the director of the two award-winning choirs with whom I'm performing this weekend. She and I also went to school together and, like Shelly, she was a year ahead of me in high school. Unlike Shelley, Kellie wasn't the best person to have purchasing "adult beverages" for you. Kellie liked to drink Spumante Bambino in a tumbler with ice. 'Nuf said ....
After the girls and I reminisced over some old times for a wee bit, they sat at a separate table and I continued working, but not before calling my mother and telling her to go ahead and eat breakfast without me. I knew where this was going ...
I finished the work I had to do, started gathering my things to join Kellie and Shelley, when I heard: "My Gawd, it's Heather Bambrick!" I turned to find Gillian King awaiting a hug. Gillian is another school friend who had recently returned to St. John's after having lived "up along" for some time. (To Newfoundlanders, anything outside of Atlantic Canada is either "the Mainland" or "up along" - the latter, if you're living in the US.) Gill and I caught up on things, she told me she'd seen "Out of the Fog" the night before, and wished me luck at the concert.
I eventually made it to Shelley and Kellie's table and decided I would have a quick chat before making a run for the door, in order to enjoy some fruit salad and 10 or 12 cups of tea back at my parents. Just as we were finishing our conversation and I was about to head home, I heard: "Excuse me, are you Heather Bambrick?"
I looked up to see four women, three of whom had taught at my high school. At that moment, I found I'd developed the same syndrome that causes my father to forget the names of various people in his life. Fortunately, they all introduced themselves as teachers who taught at "Holy Heart Regional High School for Girls", but had never taught me .... well, actually, all but one: Mary Wall had been my "Newfoundland Culture 1200" teacher in Grade 11. (Yes, that's right! We instruct / study a course all about what it means to be a Newfoundlander. This explains our response to Meech Lake .... but I digress ... ) I chatted briefly with the ladies and was then eventually able to take my leave.
That quick errand took 2 and a half hours!
I returned home, scarfed down some fruit salad and a cup of tea (#3) and went for a walk with my Mom.
My mother is all of 5 feet tall, if that. However, that compact little body packs a lot of punch. My mother is a natural wonder for a lot of reasons:
- Her floors are spotless ... I truly mean spotless. You can literally eat off them. I think we've probably done so on a couple of occasions.
- She will go for a daily walk no matter what's going on. I swear: Danny Williams could call a state of emergency (as he probably might the next time Harper pisses him off) and my mother would still find a way to "go out for her walk". (It's odd the way she takes ownership of the walking activity ... )
- For someone with such little legs, she sure can motor!!
So, we covered much of the East End of the city in about an hour and returned home. From here, I showered, practiced for the concert, and prepared for dinner. Following dinner, it was time to head out for a concert rehearsal.
If you read Chapter 1 of this blog, you might have noticed my comment about the way Newfoundlanders drive. The thing I didn't mention about this driving practice is their observance of speed limits - or lack thereof. You see, in Toronto, speed limits are often thought of as suggestions: it would be nice if people would drive at this speed, but most Toronto drivers add about 20 - 40 kms/hr to any limit. In St, John's, it's the opposite. The speed limit "wish list" in St. John's is defied by countless drivers who seem to think one should only accelerate to reach the speed limit when ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY ... like in the case of another World War, for example.
I tell you this so that you can understand the level of frustration I felt as I drove to rehearsal that evening. Nothing more need be said about that!
Rehearsal went smoothly and caused me to become even more excited about the concert program for Saturday evening's show.
Following rehearsal, a few people made their way to the "Duke of Duckworth" pub. If you've ever watched "Republic of Doyle" you've already seen the inside of the Duke - CBC has constructed a replica "Duke" set for the show. The Duke is a favourite "hang" for many music folks in St. John's. It's also the spot where several Jazz musicians have performed over the years, so it's a neat mix of a traditional Newfoundland setting, combined with the cultural cross-pollenation that comes from introducing a "Mainland" influence, such as Jazz. In any case, it's always a great place to "hang", which we did for a couple of pints.
Upon leaving, I couldn't help but notice actor Sean McGinley, who plays "Malachy Doyle" on "Republic of Doyle". I have to tell you: I was a little star struck! I was about to exit the pub, lamenting the fact that I didn't stop to say anything to him when I realized I had my camera in my purse. I grabbed the camera, gave it to my friend to snap the pic, approached Sean and said: "Love you on the show!" (This seemed a little more subtle and cool than what I imagine many people would have said to him - kind of like what I did to Jim Cuddy of Blue Rodeo when I told him who he was over and over again - "You're Jim Cuddy! Oh my God ... you're Jim Cuddy!") I then asked if he would mind snapping a pic (in order for me to take it back to Toronto to prove there some pretty important people in St. John's!) He was lovely, gracious, and had the most adorable Irish accent!!
My friends and I left the pub, hopped in a car, and were making our way out of the parking spot when we noticed a cab pull up and a familiar pair of jeans hop out of said taxi. It was Allan Hawko - the producer, writer, and lead actor of "Republic of Doyle". I was about to ask Kellie to stop the car so I could snap another pic when I realized that it might have seemed a little fanatic to jump out of a moving vehicle, run across the street, and accost my friend's younger brother (yes, I know Allan's younger brother - hi Greg!) to get a picture taken with him.
Besides, he was no doubt wanting to head inside for a quick beer, and would probably have avoided eye contact ....
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